Susan Mallery - The Christmas Wedding Ring

Slow down, guy, he told himself. He knew better than to create fantasies about women. They were only out for what they could get from a man, be it a good time in bed or a lifetime of financial support. Life had taught him that lesson well.

Which made his reasons for trusting Molly even more suspect. Except that he didn’t believe she wanted anything from him. He couldn’t say how or why this was true, but he’d acted as if it was. Maybe old age was making him senile. Reality was everybody wanted something, even Molly.

His admittedly cynical philosophy firmly back in place, he walked inside the building. Evie sat at her desk, her dark eyes wide with curiosity.

“Well?” she asked, making no pretense at being subtle. “Who is she and what did she want?”

Dylan leaned against her desk. “An old friend. I knew her years ago. I dated her older sister.”

“Oh, that explains it.” Evie wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure she’s a nice person and all, but she’s not your type. I mean the hair is curly and she’s probably pretty when it’s down, but she’s real ordinary looking.”

Dylan straightened. “She’s not ordinary,” he said, irritation adding strength to his voice. “Janet was always the pretty one in the family, but Molly has a lot of nice features.” He drew his eyebrows together and waited for Evie to contradict him. He didn’t want to even think about why he felt the need to defend Molly. Maybe because she was one of those people who were good on the inside. So what if she wasn’t traditionally beautiful—she had other qualities he admired.

“My mistake,” Evie said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was just a little surprised—that’s all. You usually go for the model type. I think it’s great you’re looking for substance rather than flash.”

“I’m not looking for anything,” he growled. “We’re friends. Nothing more.”

“I knew that,” Evie said. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Dylan shook his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m—” What? What was wrong with him? Why did everything suddenly seem off? “I’ll be in my office,” he told her, and headed for the back of the building.

He was getting soft. That must be it. Good thing he was going away. He would use the time to clear his head.

As he settled down to work, he noticed a faint sensation low in his gut. After a few minutes, he was able to identify it as anticipation. He, who normally hated anything that pulled him away from work, was actually looking forward to taking time off.

Chapter Three

There had been a mailbox with the house number at the bottom of the hill. As Molly shifted her car into first so it could climb the steep grade, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Did Dylan really live up here?

When she rounded the last bend and saw the house sprawling in front of her, she became more convinced that she must have made a wrong turn somewhere. The structure was huge. All wood and glass. Its back end blended into the hill rising behind the house. The front overlooked the city and desert beyond. From where she’d stopped, she could see a four-car garage and what appeared to be part of a garden.

Molly sucked in a deep breath. This had to be the place. There had been only three other driveways on the street, and none of the numbers had even been close. She knew property was cheaper out here, but sheesh, she hadn’t expected a mansion. Looking at the impressive structure, she was glad she hadn’t known about it before. Otherwise, she never would have found the courage to approach him.

She pulled her car to the side, in front of one of the garage’s double doors, then turned off the engine. She decided to leave her suitcase in the trunk until she was absolutely sure this was the place. She moved up the walk and saw that the wide front door was decorated with a large, luxurious wreath. She paused. Dylan didn’t strike her as the wreath type. She extracted the key he’d given her. Here goes nothing, she thought.

The key turned easily. He’d told her there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, so she simply stepped inside.

The great room ceiling stretched up at least twenty feet. Huge windows brought in the light from outside, illuminating dark wood beams, white stucco walls and, near the hearth, the fanciest Christmas tree she’d ever seen. To get to it, she had to cross over a cobblestone bridge and indoor stream. A stream?

Molly blinked several times, but the flowing water didn’t go away. It continued to slide down a rock formation on her right, then under the bridge to a shallow pool on her left. Several fish swam through the clear pond.

What on earth had she gotten herself into?

As she approached the tree, what looked like millions of tiny white lights blinked to life. Motion detectors? On a Christmas tree?

Although the tree was beautiful, Molly thought, it struck her as a little formal. No colored lights, no homemade decorations. In fact, every decoration on the tree was white or gold, or some combination of the two. Porcelain angels frozen mid-song.

The furniture was oversized. Dark blue leather sofas, glass-topped tables and more windows. The view was spectacular. She turned in a slow circle, taking in the attractive floor lamps, the displayed artwork, the dining room beyond. She figured her entire condo would fit comfortably into the space occupied by these two rooms alone. And there was still plenty of house for her to see.

Nearly eleven years ago, when Janet had first thought about breaking up with Dylan, Molly remembered listening at the door as her sister had talked to their mother, trying to decide what to do. Janet had been concerned about their differences in lifestyle and expectations. Dylan had grown up on the poor side of town, in a single-wide trailer. All he’d seemed to care about was his bike and Janet. She’d wanted a man with ambition. At the time Molly had thought her sister was incredibly stupid. Ambition was all well and good, but they were talking about Dylan Black. He was worth ten lawyers or doctors.

As Molly continued to study the impressive room, she realized she’d been right. A smile pulled at her mouth. He’d come a long way from that ratty old trailer. Maybe, while they were away together, she could ask him to tell her the story of what had happened to bring him here.

She returned to her car and collected her suitcase, then went back inside. Dylan had described the basic layout of the house, telling her to make herself at home. By nature, she wasn’t much of a snoop, and even if she’d wanted to look around, this place was way too intimidating for her taste. So she didn’t poke her head in all the open doors along the hallway. Instead, she headed for the last door on the left, and found it led to a guest room, just as he’d promised.

The four-poster queen-sized bed was attractive, as was the plain pine furniture. The comforter was a floral print, with matching drapes at the windows. A few tasteful paintings decorated the cream-colored walls. Through a door on her left was a huge bathroom, complete with spa tub. Everything was perfectly clean. Dylan obviously had the use of a cleaning service. Or maybe someone came in a few days a week to tidy up.

She set her suitcase on the bed and opened it. Dylan had told her she would have to pack light for their adventure. After all, they were heading out on one of his motorcycles. A flicker of excitement tickled her tummy. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this. She, little Molly Anderson, was going away with Dylan Black. It was, she thought, a Christmas miracle of sorts. And lately miracles had been in short supply in her life.

She sorted through clothing, deciding that casual would be best. She settled on jeans, shirts and a few toiletries. An oversized cotton T-shirt would work as a nightgown.