67. Natalie

67

NATALIE

C hoosing a gift for a billionaire is quite the daunting task.

Choosing a Christmas gift for the billionaire you’ve fallen in love with is even more daunting, especially when you’ve technically only been together for a few weeks. Firstly, I can’t compete with his spending power. Secondly, I want to find gifts that tell him how I feel about him and how grateful I am for all the care and attention he’s lavished upon me while not appearing to be a total psycho.

See what I mean?

Daunting.

But as I sit on the sofa in the library, sipping a deliciously festive flavour of Mariage Frères tea, Esprit de No?l , I know that being here with Adam on this day is far more important than whatever I’ve put under that macaron-laden tree for him.

I can’t begin to compensate for the memories he’s lost forever, but I hope I can help him to make some new ones.

‘Right,’ I say, setting down my china teacup and scooting over to the tree. ‘Me first. ’

We’re both in fluffy white robes and slippers. Adam has already given me my first two Christmas presents—two excellent orgasms—but in that robe he looks more unwrappable than any gift.

‘Absolutely not,’ he says. ‘Anyway, you’ve already given me the best present I could have asked for.’

I smirk. ‘Well, you gave me two.’

He leans over and takes my hand. ‘I’m not talking about that, sweetheart. I’m talking about the fact that your family opened their doors to me and your brother shook me by the hand—on Christmas Eve, of all nights. Do you have any idea how impossible that moment has seemed up until a couple of weeks ago? There’s nothing you could give me that can match that.’

I nod, my eyes misty. Last night, Dad took me aside in the kitchen and told me that Adam seemed like a genuinely decent bloke , and Stephen suggested Adam and I go for tacos with him and Anna in the new year. Seeing the men of my family accepting my boyfriend for the person he is today was a profoundly moving experience for me, so I can’t imagine how emotional it’s been for him.

I lean forward so I can brush his lips lightly with mine. ‘I get that, but I got you some little things anyway. Just bits and pieces.’

‘Okay,’ he whispers against my mouth. ‘Thank you.’

He seems genuinely delighted with my gifts. There was a vintage-style photo booth at the New York party, and I had our strip of photos framed. In all of them, I’m kissing him on the cheek. I also bought him some fancy shaving foam from a tiny organic producer in Wales and a daily kimchi shot subscription. It’ll be delivered weekly to his office (the guy is as into fermented foods as he is into pulses).

Finally, I couldn’t resist the personalised workout t-shirt I found online. Across its dark grey surface is written MR (W)RIGHT in huge white letters. It makes me giggle every time I think about it.

‘Tell me how you feel about me without telling me how you feel about me,’ he says, holding it to his chest.

I grin. ‘It reminded me more of how you feel about yourself.’

He jumps on me then, and it’s a few minutes before he’s wiping my kiss-swollen mouth and telling me to take a seat back on the sofa. He pulls a pile of beautifully wrapped presents out from under the tree. It’s naughty of him to have bought me anything. I told him no more presents after the insane shopping spree he insisted on in New York.

Still, here we are. He picks them up and comes to sit beside me, his smile more tentative than expectant. He hands me the first one, and I tear it open.

Holy motherfucking shit. It’s a Goyard tote. Their iconic Saint Louis, no less, in the royal blue colourway that I’ve often thought I’d give a kidney for, if my kidneys were that valuable. It’s so beautiful it makes me want to cry.

‘Oh my God!’ I say. ‘Honey, it’s amazing! I love it so much.’

‘You can change the colour if it’s not right,’ he says quickly. ‘All I know is I’ve never seen a tote bag more desperately in need of replacement.’

I giggle. ‘No, no, it’s perfect! It’s the one I would have chosen—absolutely. Thank you so much.’

He kisses me tenderly before placing a small box in my lap. It’s square and flat. Jewellery, maybe? I open the paper with a quizzical look at him, but the box itself is plain black card and gives me no answers. When I take off the lid, a set of keys and an alarm fob lie nestled in black tissue, locked to a Goyard keyring that matches my new bag .

My mind is racing, and I look up at him again. His face is very serious, but very soft, and I reach up to stroke his beard, almost without thinking.

‘I don’t want you feeling like a visitor here,’ he says haltingly. ‘I know how I feel about you, and I know how badly I want a future with you. I want you living here with me—if that’s what you want, too.’

I search his face, my heart thumping. This is beyond insane. Adam has spent tens of millions of pounds restoring and furnishing this house, creating the most beautiful home for himself. I can’t just waltz in here and take up residence, for Pete’s sake! I mean, I know I’m here every night, but it feels different. I’m his guest, which is how it should be.

‘Say something, please,’ he urges me.

I drop my hand from his face and stare at him in shock. ‘It’s not a matter of wanting to. It’s—this place is crazy! It’s like a beautiful luxury hotel. I can’t just come and live with you and not pay my way! You bought all this. You’ve worked so hard for every penny.’ I pause and look down at the shiny keys with their pretty keyring. I can feel myself deflating. ‘I’d feel like a gold-digger.’

His laugh is disbelieving, but it’s also tender. Compassionate. He tips my chin up with the softest touch, so I’m looking into his blue eyes again. I press my lips together, because I feel really teary, for some reason.

‘Sweetheart,’ he says, his voice so low. ‘If you think, after all we’ve been through, that there’s some kind of imbalance here, that you’re not “paying your way” in this relationship, then you are fucking delusional. You’ve given me so much more than I could ever give you. Besides, I’m hopelessly, ridiculously, in love with you.’

My mouth falls open, but he presses on. ‘I think I have been, probably, since you had your hypo and I basically kidnapped you. I love you, Nat. You are the strongest, most resilient, most passionate woman I’ve ever met, and the only reason this is a set of keys and not a diamond ring is because I don’t want to send you running for the hills just yet.

‘And I’ve enjoyed this place far more in the past month than I’ve ever been able to enjoy it before. Seeing you fall in love with my home has been incredible to witness.’ He leans his forehead against mine. ‘I just want you here with me, sweetheart. I want to come home to you every night. That’s all there is to it, really.’

I close my eyes and breathe him in. For a man who’s been so badly hurt in the past, I’ve never met someone so generous with his heart. I’ve never felt so astonishingly well cared for, and I’ve never in turn wanted to care for another human being like I do for Adam.

I never thought that being loved would feel like such a precious gift.

Opening my eyes, I pull back enough that he can see my face. ‘I love you, too.’

His face softens with relief. ‘Do you?’

‘Yeah.’ I nod vehemently. ‘As soon as I saw you clearly for who you really were, I fell hard. How could I not? You have the most beautiful heart I’ve ever known.’ I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and gaze at his dear, dear face. ‘If you want me here, then I’d love to live here. I love you.’

‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ he says softly.

I’m pretty sure that’s what he said when I told him that day in my office that I didn’t hate him anymore, right before we kissed. There’s a whole world of emotion swirling beneath this man’s skin. That I’m the one he shows it to is the biggest privilege of my life.

He grins as he disentangles himself from my embrace and hands me another package: big, flat, rectangular. ‘Keep what you just said to me in mind when you see this,’ he pleads. ‘This one’s definitely a gamble. Just know that it comes from a place of love and of supreme confidence in your abilities.’

I frown, bewildered, as I tear open the paper. It feels like a big book.

It is a big book, in landscape orientation, bound in beautiful lavender leather.

Embossed on the front is the following:

Gossamer

A Wright Holdings Company?