‘Alvaro...’ She suddenly felt dreadful; she had no gift for him.
‘Don’t panic.’ He chuckled as he caught the distressed look she shot him. ‘This isn’t from me. It’s from Ellen.’
Jade’s heart beat a flood of warmth around her body. She reached into the felt stocking and pulled out a gorgeous soft green winter hat.
‘Knitting is her hobby—though she’s slower now. She has a collection she chose from.’
‘I love it.’ She was so touched.
‘She chose well,’ he said softly. ‘It matches your eyes.’
‘What did you get?’ She peered eagerly.
His was a matching soft wool hat, only in dark grey.
‘It looks good on you.’ She giggled. Especially with just the boxers he had on.
‘Why don’t you go into the study? I’ll be there in a moment.’
She’d already decided the study was her favourite room—aside from the bedroom, of course—with its stunning views of the ocean, and the cosy comfort of its whitewashed walls, bookcases and plump, soft furniture.
Two minutes later Alvaro appeared carrying a tray, on top of which was a gorgeous chocolate cake and a single lit candle.
‘What’s this?’ She stood to meet him.
‘I thought, if the main festival days were impersonal, what were birthdays like in recent years?’ He looked at her gently. ‘I had a hunch that maybe not all queens got to eat cake?’
Her heart melted all over again at his astuteness. And his consideration.
‘No.’ Her birthday had barely registered on her father’s mind.
She’d missed her sister and her mother so much at those times. Once they’d left there’d been nothing personal—a brief greeting from her father, a signed book, and a reminder to stay calm and study hard.
‘So we’re having cake for breakfast?’ she asked. ‘Because it’s a treat day?’
‘Why not, right? It’s Christmas.’
It certainly was. Jade’s heart filled as he sank into the big armchair by the fire and watched her, a smile on his face as she blew out the candle.
‘Did you make a wish?’ he asked.
‘I’m not telling,’ she teased. She carefully cut into the cake with the enormous knife he’d brought with him and marvelled as a mountain of candy-covered chocolate pieces cascaded out, spilling all over the pretty plate. A couple of pieces even hit the floor.
‘Oh, wow!’ She giggled. ‘That’s awesome.’
She could see the chocolate cake itself was rich and decadent and then with that mess of colour in the centre?
‘It’s the birthday cake I would have adored as a kid,’ he said softly.
Her heart burst and she turned to face him. ‘Would have?’
Alvaro shrugged as he watched Jade carefully put a slice of cake on a small plate. The flush in her cheeks, the smile that hadn’t left her face since she’d woken, they were the best presents he’d ever had. She didn’t cut a second slice, instead she came with the plate and fork and, with a wriggle of her hips, wordlessly asked to sit on his lap. She was the sexiest thing. He teased the thin strap of her negligee as she settled over his thighs and offered him a bite. How could he resist?
‘You like?’ she asked.
Somehow it had flipped, as if he were the one receiving the gift—yet he wasn’t quite comfortable. He should be pleased and at ease. He’d checked on Ellen, he’d come to his sanctuary, he had Jade back in his bed and she’d loved his little ‘festival of festivals’. Now he had cake and warmth and the most beautiful woman in the world on his knee.
Yet the strangest wall of emotion slammed into him—hitting him so off track, he couldn’t even figure what it was. As it sank beneath his skin, he felt exposed and somewhat mortified that he’d done this at all. And now? Now she was looking at him with gleaming eyes and a smear of chocolate just below her sweet lower lip and—
‘It’s gorgeous,’ he muttered.
His body ached and it shouldn’t. It ought to be sated and in some soporific state of recovery, yet now he hungered for things more than physical. It hurt. His chest, his gut. It really, really hurt.
‘You didn’t ever get a cake like this?’ she asked gently as she offered him another bite.
‘You know I didn’t,’ he said huskily.
A frown gathered in her eyes. ‘But I’m sure Ellen did something?’
He heard the curiosity in Jade’s voice, saw it in her eyes.
‘Ellen did her best. Always.’ He couldn’t say anything more.
Ellen was a carer; she’d taken in the most unwanted of unwanted things. More than stray dogs or waifish children, but the absolute rejects. She’d been tough but she’d had to be. They wouldn’t have survived otherwise.
Jade was watching him. Sure, the basic details were out there—he’d been given up for an adoption that hadn’t worked out and Ellen had taken him in. But the specifics hadn’t been that straightforward. He didn’t ever go into those. And yet here those details were, cramming in his head—memories of birthdays and Christmases gone by in which there’d been...anger and hurt and rejection and such loneliness.
He wanted to tear his gaze away from her. He wanted to clear his throat. He wanted to escape...yet he couldn’t move. And he certainly couldn’t speak. He couldn’t tell her the whole of it. He’d never told anyone. Not even he and Ellen had discussed it. It was in the past, long, long buried.
In the end Jade glanced away, faint colour running under her skin. She caught sight of the whiteboard on the wall above his desk and seized on it. ‘You were serious about this usually being a strategy day?’
He rested his head back on the chair and gently stroked her back, unable to resist the contact. It soothed him even though every time he touched her it was as if his vital organs got an electric shock.
‘Companies don’t run by themselves,’ he said. ‘I need to check direction, and there’s inevitably some crisis or other to prepare for...’
‘Yet you continue to expand?’ She turned back to face him. ‘You don’t think you have enough?’
He half smiled at her as he shook his head. It wouldn’t ever be enough and, no, he couldn’t ever rest.
‘Do you worry that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone?’ she asked softly.
He stiffened. He’d worked hard for what he had and he wasn’t about to lose it. ‘I’m not really that much of a risk-taker, Jade.’ He’d had to be to begin with, but not any more. ‘You’ve seen it yourself. I keep my safe reserves.’