Third Time's a Charm

Rose had ended up donating the Jeep to an organization that took old cars that no longer worked, after Carter Ambrose had pronounced it not fit to drive. That same day a delivery van, with the words ‘Carolina Dreams’ painted on one side had shown up in front of her store. Not even an hour later, a minivan was delivered.

She wasn’t sure who’d given her the vehicles, but she was beyond thankful and extremely pleased to be wrong about the people of Holland Springs. Although most of the time she wanted to hide in the office in the back of the store when it got really crowded and everyone started sharing stories of Rose’s match-making advice.

Slowly, but surely things were changing for her. For whatever reason, Jason Everett avoided her at all costs (most likely he was afraid she’d comment on his sex skills.). She found herself actually smiling at people when she walked down the street, or did a little shopping in their stores. Many acted like they were genuinely happy to see her and Ivy.

Whether it was her attitude or a realization that not everyone in Holland Springs hated her family, she wasn’t quite sure. Maybe a combination of the two.

“Oh no, Ms. Holland, you let these people help you out,” Jemma Leigh teased when she walked in and caught her gathering items to donate to Goodwill.

Sage Caswell walked in behind her, soft gray eyes shining. “We brought lunch.” She held up a large bag and shook it. “And no Bernice.”

The three of them sat on a blanket behind the counter, eating sandwiches and watching Ivy trying to crawl.

Jemma Leigh grinned at her, then tucked a chunk of blonde hair behind her ear. “How does it feel to have Ivy back?”

“Like my family’s complete.” Well, almost. She wished both of her sisters were with her…and sometimes, late at night, she wished Sasha was with her, too. Yesterday she had received a package in the mail. When she had opened it, she had been shocked to find a half-nude painting of Poppy Holland. The note accompanying it, however, had erased her shock and pinched her heart.

For your eyes only, it had read. She had known exactly who it was from. Although how he’d found it was a mystery she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to solve.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about people helping you,” Sage said, thankfully misinterpreting her melancholy mood. “Everyone wanted to do something.”

Rose tilted her head to the side. “Everyone?”

“Everyone who counts.” Jemma Leigh clarified with a smile and Sage nodded. “People you’ve helped and then some.” She finished the last of her sandwich and washed it down with a bottle of water.

“Not Nahalah Industries,” Jemma Leigh added, when she noticed Rose eying the bottle.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You didn’t have to,” Jemma Leigh laughed and began to clean up. “Momma said to tell you that anytime you need a babysitter to call her.”

“Or me,” Sage volunteered. She leaned over and gave Ivy her stuffed rabbit. “I love babies.”

“Tell her thank you.” Rose smiled, then turned to Sage. “You, too.”

Sage made a little noise. “But you won’t take the offers, will you?”

Rose bit her lip and shook her head.

“But you’ll have to for my bachelorette party,” Jemma Leigh declared. “Bernice’s not invited, because it’s my only day without bitchy women.”

Rose laughed and Sage cheered.

Soon, too soon really, their lunch was over and Ivy’s eyes had drifted shut. The baby’s tummy was full and her shirt sleeve had the dried remnants of pureed peas on it. Cheerios from a game called ‘watch Ivy try to fit as many as possible in her mouth at one time’ littered the outer edges of her blanket. But Rose didn’t mind. A mess made by Ivy meant Ivy was still here, still hers and with the way things were going, forever hers.

Her life was complete. It was exactly as it should be—except for the ache in her heart.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

November faded into December. The autumn leaves fell to the ground, leaving bare limbs in their place.

Most days Rose’s life was so filled with piecing everything back together and tending to Ivy that she barely had time to herself. But when she did, Sasha filled every nook and cranny of her mind. He was a constant dream, one that hadn’t faded with time. Her traitorous heart still yearned for him.

She missed his energy, his humor…his kisses. The way he dressed and how he talked to Ivy like an adult.

The way he had gazed at her the first time they made love.

“Want a slice to go?” Daisy asked, jolting Rose out of her daydreaming.

“No thanks.”

“I’m closing in about ten minutes but you two feel free to stay in here as long as you like,” the baker offered, a friendly smile on her face. “I need to finish making a menu for a wedding reception I’m catering.”

Rose smiled back. She had always liked Daisy and had admired her for keeping her business open through a struggling economy. “That’s wonderful.”

“It’ll be even more wonderful when I hire someone to be my assistant.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Rose said as Daisy moved behind the counter and called out her thanks.

Rose looked at Ivy. The baby sat in a highchair, gnawing on a bagel and drooling like crazy. Just last week her first tooth had popped through, but she still hadn’t said her first word. Mainly Ivy liked to coo and babble at the rabbit Sasha had bought her.

A hunk of bagel fell to the floor and Ivy leaned over to look at the mess. Grinning, she threw the rest after it and gurgled with glee.

Rose smiled. “Guess you’re done with that.” She used a paper napkin to clean up the baby’s mess.

After wishing Daisy a Merry Christmas, Rose bundled Ivy up and headed outside. She walked along Broad Street, stopping every so often to point out holiday displays to Ivy.

Turning onto Ivy Lane, she squared her shoulders and adjusted the baby on her hip, trying not to notice Sasha’s fake store. It was an empty space except a ‘for sale’ sign had been in the window since the end of November. The clothes and money he raised had been split between Gabriel’s organization and the women’s shelter.

According to Jemma Leigh, that had been Sasha’s doing and he wanted to keep things quiet. So, of course, the realtor told everyone. Jemma Leigh Jackson had never kept a secret in her life.

Rose’s heart pinched as she thought of Sasha. What he was doing for Christmas? Who would he spend it with? The woman inside of her shouted that it should be Rose. That Rose should woman up, find out where Sasha was and go to him. Obviously, the woman inside of her had lost her mind.

Or had she?

She froze in her tracks. Maybe that’s exactly what she should do. She could call Sasha’s cousin, Christian, and ask him. Then go online, get some tickets and find a hotel. Her body trembled with excitement and she started for her store.

“Rose Holland?”

She turned, unease racing down her spine as she found Christian Romanov standing in front of her, his famous smile nowhere to be found and his pale eyes serious.

Gasping, she clutched his hand. “Has something happened to Sasha? To his momma?”

Christian nodded. “We buried Phoebe a month ago.”

She stood on the balls of her feet, looking over Christian’s shoulder for some sign of Sasha. “Is he okay?”

“Alexander’s not…himself.” Christian rocked back on his heels.

“Take me to him,” she said without hesitation. Fate was smiling down on her today. Excitement zipped through her, making her knees wobbly. She steadied them and smiled.

“Brilliant.” Christian clapped his hands and rubbed them together, a gesture so familiar that it made her body ache. “Let’s go.”

A black Mercedes with sleek lines idled by the curb, its driver waiting by the back passenger side door. Rose let Christian guide her by the elbow.

“Where are we going?” She didn’t know why she bothered to ask. Nothing matter but getting to Sasha.

Ivy waved her arms at Christian, making happy noises.

“To merry old England.” He grinned and tweaked Ivy’s nose.

Reality crashed over her, making her shoulders droop. “But I don’t have a passport and neither does Ivy.”

Christian ushered her into a waiting car, the warmth of the heater a welcome changed from the frigid winter air. “It’s all been taken care of.” He sat down on the seat across from her and handed her two thin, blue booklets.

“But what about tickets?”

“Taken care of.”

The limo driver turned the Mercedes onto a private airfield, a white jet with the words Romanov Industries painted on the tail waiting at the edge of the runway.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” she mumbled and pressed a kiss to Ivy’s head.

Not until they were halfway across the Atlantic did she start to panic. “We don’t have any clothes, or a car seat…or extra bottles. I only have the stuff in my diaper bag. And who will feed Blackbeard?”

Christian played on his phone, not bothering to look up. “It’s been taken care of.”

“’Course it has.” Dazed, she settled back in the leather seat. “How did you know I’d say yes?”

“Call it a man’s intuition,” Christian said and she rolled her eyes.

With only three hours until Heathrow, Rose made herself take a nap with Ivy in one of the bedrooms on the plane. A circle of pillows corralled the baby on all sides.

The next thing she knew, the sun was shining through her window and a flight attendant was knocking on her door while saying, “We’re about to land, Ms. Holland.”

Ivy stirred. Rose quickly changed the baby’s diaper before finding her seat. Christian still sat in his, his head lolling to one side. He mumbled something about angry birds and thieving pigs in his sleep.

The first bounce woke Christian.

The second had her clutching Ivy to her chest, until they disembarked the plane.

“Happy Christmas Eve.” Christian guided her to yet another waiting Mercedes. There was a car seat for Ivy. Hot chocolate steamed in the cup holder by the window.

“What exactly is going on with Sasha?” She buckled Ivy in and adjusted the straps, then passed the baby her stuffed rabbit.

Christian gave her an enigmatic look. “You’ll be able to see for yourself.”

“Are you taking me to him, or are we meeting him somewhere?”

“I’m certainly not taking you home with me.” He pulled out his cell, ran his forefinger over the keypad and put it back in his coat pocket. “Won’t be long now.” Then he promptly fell back asleep.

Rose hid a smile behind the mug of hot chocolate.

The car wove in and out of traffic, sights flying by faster than she could catch a decent glimpse. She wanted to wake Christian up to ask him what part of London were they in, but he obviously needed his beauty sleep.

She sipped at the warm drink, the rich chocolate warming her insides, but it did nothing to bolster her nerves. Maybe he wouldn’t be happy to see her, or even want her help. Her love. Maybe he’d settled into his new life and didn’t need anyone, least of all the woman who’d rejected him. The cup trembled in her hands and she had to set it down before it slipped out of her damp palms.

Glancing at Ivy, she found the rabbit in the baby’s mouth, her eyes slowly opening and closing. “Sleepy girl,” Rose whispered.

Another left turn and the limo stopped in front of a light-colored wall made from ancient-looking stones. The gates opened and the limo drove down a pebbly path, halting beside an elaborately carved water fountain. The driver opened the door, a gust of icy air gnawing at the warmth and waking Christian.

Before she knew it, he’d helped her out of the car, handed off Ivy and deposited four suitcases and a trunk with the initials LV at the bottom of a huge set of doors. Her head swam at the sight of luggage that cost more than what she made in a month.

“Good luck.” He rapped on the door.

Her eyes rounded. “He doesn’t know I’m here, does he?”

“Intelligent women—how would we get on without them?” He winked and slid back inside the car.

“Ma’am.” The driver tipped his hat to her and shut the door.

All she could do was stare as he drove away.

“Can I help you?”

Rose jumped and whirled around, finding a man in a starched gray suit who looked to be at least a hundred years old—if that young. “Uh, I…I’m Rose Holland and this is Ivy.”

“Pemberly, ma’am. Right this way.” He motioned for her to follow him inside.

Two men rushed outside to grab her suitcases, trunk and Ivy’s car seat.

“Take those to the Yellow Room,” Pemberly ordered as they walked inside with her things.

The doors closed behind her, sealing her fate.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Where’s Sasha, I mean, Mr. Romanov?”

“He’ll be along shortly.”

The doors banged open and Rose backed up, hiding in the shadows.

“Balmy weather, my arse,” Sasha grumbled as he unbuttoned his jacket.

Her heart jumped so high into her throat that she almost choked on it. If he were in such a bad way, then why did he look so good? Had Christian lied to her?

“You have visitors,” Pemberly intoned.

Sasha glanced around the impressive foyer. “Attention to detail is why I keep you around, Pemberly.” He hadn’t seen her.

But she saw him. His golden hair and bronze skin. Sexy eyes and broad shoulders. The way he wore a button-down shirt and slacks. The way he grinned when the butler managed to look even haughtier than she thought possible. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">