Author: Bella Andre

Loving words spilled from their lips in a mixture of English and Italian.

“I adore you.”

“Ti amo.”

“You’re mine.”

They’d shared their first kiss under the mistletoe. Wearing only the tiara of mistletoe leaves and berries, Mary reached for Jack and drew him tightly against her as they came together for the first time as husband and wife.

* * *

When she woke cradled in his arms hours later, there was a small wrapped box on her pillow. Outside the curtains, moonlight streamed in over them, and the cold winter breeze rustled the leaves on the lemon and orange trees in the courtyard beyond their private suite.

Jack shifted them so that the pillows were behind her as he handed her the box. “You gave me your gift earlier, now it’s time for me to give you mine.” When she tore at the paper, he laughed and said, “So I was right—that is how you open presents.”

Mary lifted the top from the box and, when she saw his gift, the tears she’d barely managed to hold at bay all day finally spilled down her cheeks. Lifting the delicate Christmas ornament out of the box, she marveled at the workmanship and artistry that had gone into creating the porcelain angel.

“That day in the diner, when you called me Angel for the first time—” She looked up at him through the tears that clung to her eyelashes. “I was already yours.”

“And I was yours.”

The clock in the square struck midnight as they reached for each other again to start the first new day as husband and wife with heat, passion…and unconditional love.

A love that would last forever.

Epilogue

January

Mary laughed out loud as Jack swung her up into his strong arms on the sidewalk in front of their new home in Palo Alto, a suburb thirty minutes south of the city and five minutes to his new office building in the heart of Silicon Valley. She wound her arms around his neck and marveled, for what had to be the thousandth time, that he was really hers.

“Our new neighbors are probably looking out from behind their curtains wondering about the crazy new couple on the block.”

“Crazy in love,” he said, before really giving the neighbors something to talk about by kissing her passionately.

Breathless by the time he lifted his mouth from hers, it took her a few moments to realize he was carrying her up the front walk. He took the key from her and unlocked the door.

“Ready to move in, Mrs. Sullivan?”

Lord, how she loved him…and it thrilled her to pieces every time she realized she was now a Sullivan, too.

This time she was the one kissing him in full sight of the neighborhood before replying, “Take me home, Jack.”

Her heart filled with joy as he carried her over the threshold and into the living room. Slowly, he put her down, making sure her curves slid against his hard muscles in as many places as possible.

“When are the movers coming?” she asked in a voice made husky with the need that just grew stronger every day they were together.

“In an hour.”

She was already pulling his shirt up as she said, “That’s plenty of time to christen our house properly.”

Jack’s hands got just as busy stripping off her clothes and they were both nearly naked when he remembered to lock the front door and draw the drapes. As he moved back across the room to her, yet again, Mary was struck by his incredible male beauty. Every time she saw his broad shoulders, rippling abdominal muscles and long, strong legs, she lost a little more of her self-control.

A beat before he reached her, she leaped on him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. He responded by lowering her to the soft carpet…and kissing her senseless.

An hour later, when the movers came, they were fully dressed again and giddy as two naughty children who had gotten away with sneaking into the cookie jar. Mary directed the placement of the furniture while Jack supervised the unpacking of his home office so that it very closely resembled the old garage he and his partners had worked out of for so long.

After the movers left, Mary and Jack walked hand in hand out through the French doors to the backyard. He gathered her against his chest. “One day, I’m going to build a tree house with our children in that big oak.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder as she looked up at the sky through the leaves. “And we can have Sunday lunch under the shade of the branches, just like my mother used to put on every weekend when I was a child.”

It no longer hurt to think about Italy, and Jack loved to hear her tell stories in Italian as he became more and more fluent in her native language. But though she’d loved rediscovering her childhood town during Christmas, she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Mary Sullivan was finally home.

February

Jack had been making Valentine’s Day plans for weeks. As soon as Mary woke, there would not only be dozens of roses waiting for her in every room of the house, but he’d also have a plate of piping-hot heart-shaped pancakes ready to serve to her in bed. They’d follow that up with a leisurely boat trip up the Bay into San Francisco, where they’d have dinner at a swanky restaurant and then close out the night dancing.

He was going to give her a perfect—and memorable—Valentine’s Day.

Jack was wrist deep in pancake batter when the phone rang. He quickly snatched it up before it could wake Mary. Five minutes later, he was cursing as he hung up. Somehow the roses he’d ordered had been delivered to the wrong house, and the woman who’d received them had been so overjoyed that her husband had begged the delivery guy to pretend he’d brought them to the right house. The florist promised to bring Mary’s roses soon…that was, if they could locate another supply of them.

A beat later, the rain that had been threatening all night long started coming down, along with a harsh wind. So much for the romantic boat ride. Neither of them would enjoy turning green around the gills.

Okay, so he’d make sure to serve her the best pancakes in the world, and then he’d improvise the rest.

Fifteen minutes and a dozen inedible pancakes later—why the heck wouldn’t the darned batter cooperate?—Mary walked into the kitchen.

Her eyes went wide at the unexpected—and enormous—mess. “Jack, if you were hungry, you could have woken me up to make you pancakes.”

“I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed for Valentine’s Day.” He pulled one of the awful things from the frying pan and held it up.

His wife always took his breath away, but never more than when she was gazing at him with such love in her eyes.

“Oh, Jack, they’re shaped like hearts. That’s so sweet.”

Frustration at all of his grand plans giving way to disaster had him blurting out in full detail just how wrong the morning—and his plans for the rest of the day—had already gone.

Mary threw back her head and laughed. “What a spectacular mess.”

Though he was just starting to see the humor in it himself, he needed her to know the truth. “This was supposed to be the most romantic day of your life.”

Still laughing, she drew him close. “Roses and heart-shaped pancakes and boat rides are all wonderful, and I love the care and thought that you put into today, but do you want to know what I find really romantic?”

He could never think straight when she was in his arms, and it took all the focus he could muster up to answer, “Tell me, Angel.”

“First, there’s the way you bring me coffee in the morning.”

He reminded her, “It’s cold before you can even take your first sip because I can’t keep my hands off you long enough to let you drink it hot.”

“See what I mean? Very romantic,” she said as she nuzzled closer. “And then there’s the way you always give me the best seat at the movies and have them douse the popcorn with butter and salt because you know it’s my favorite guilty pleasure…apart from you.” She gently brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I love the way you always hold my hand when we go for a walk, and how you look at me like you can’t believe I’m yours. And then there’s the fact that every single day we’ve spent together has been the most romantic day of my life.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She went up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and a breath before her lips met his, she whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

March

Sales of the Pocket Planner had been spectacular during the Christmas holiday and had kept climbing from there. While the press was still interested in Mary and Jack’s fairy-tale love story, lately they’d been even more interested in what his next brilliant invention would be.

Mary loved watching his brain work as he focused intently in his office. Despite his heavy workload, he’d been a wonderfully devoted husband. Still, in the past two months she’d learned that a little seduction could be a very valuable way to help Jack’s synapses click back into gear when he got stuck on a problem.

She was nearly on his lap by the time he looked up and noticed her. For a moment, his eyes remained unfocused, then quickly turned dark and heated with desire.

“Just what I needed,” he murmured as he tugged her onto his lap. “Beautiful inspiration.”

Her short, silky robe slipped open as she wrapped her arms around him. He traced the swell of her breasts with his fingertip. “So pretty.” He leaned in to the curve of her neck and breathed her in. “So sweet.” He pressed his lips to her earlobe. “So soft.”

Mary had come into his office to tempt and tease Jack for a few minutes…but within seconds, he was the one seducing her.

She’d never known husbands and wives could continue to have such naughty sex, but as Jack stripped her robe away completely, lifted her up onto his desk and entered her with one perfect thrust, she quickly—and blissfully—learned otherwise.

“Now, that,” he said as he gathered her close a while later and carried her into their bedroom to continue the seduction started in his office, “is the perfect way to end a workday.”

She pulled him down with her onto the bed and agreed, “Absolutely perfect.”

April

The teddy bear was squashed between Jack and Max as the two men hugged. “Congratulations, Max.”

After Mary congratulated Max, as well, Jack’s brother said, “I can’t wait for the two of you to meet my new little boy.” He looked both exhausted and ecstatic as he took them back into the maternity ward.

As soon as they walked into Claudia’s room, Ian immediately bounded off the bed and into Jack’s arms. “I’m a big brother.”

Jack gave the little boy a smacking kiss on his cute mouth. “Congratulations, Mr. Incredible.”

Ian held his arms out for Mary next. “Baby Adam is little.”

“Yes,” Mary said as she cuddled him, “and he’s perfect, just like his big brother.”

Claudia was glowing with happiness. “I’m so glad you’re both here. We all are.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Jack told her. When Max had called with the news that Claudia was in labor, Allen had offered them his private jet for the flight from San Francisco to Seattle.

Claudia held out the newborn for Jack to cradle, and Adam gazed up at him with big eyes.

“He’s an old soul, isn’t he?”

His sister-in-law nodded as Max settled beside her on the bed and she leaned against him. “That’s why we decided his middle name should be Jack.”

Mary brushed a gentle fingertip across the baby’s cheek, wonder in her eyes. “Adam Jack Sullivan,” she whispered, “you’re a very lucky boy to be born into this extraordinary family.”

Ian tugged her long, dark hair to get her attention. “Me too! I’m a lucky boy, too!”