“What else don’t I know?” she asked as the driver opened the door for them to get out.
A lot, Jack thought, and he ignored the question, as he didn’t plan to enlighten her. He would see Emma and meet her husband. Duty fulfilled and he’d leave.
Cold London air filled his lungs as he slid out of the car before her. He walked slowly toward the Bella Lucia restaurant he hadn’t been able to get out of fast enough twelve years ago. The gate he pushed open was familiar, as was the courtyard in front of the building. Small white lights twinkled in the shrubs and a subdued glow coming through the frosted windows pooled gold at his feet. There were people inside.
His family. And he was on the outside looking in, a thought that opened up an empty feeling deep inside him.
“Jack?”
He looked at Maddie, grateful for her presence and determined not to let her know. It was just this once, because he wouldn’t let himself need anyone.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
“Way to make me even more joyful about missing out on the biggest holiday of the year.”
Her sarcasm made him smile. Brutal honesty was what he counted on from Maddie. She’d never been more indispensable to him than she was at this moment.
He pushed open the door, walked inside the restaurant and looked around. It was all different. Gone was the original Italian style and in its place was a trendy, smart, fashionable restaurant. A restaurant that went dead quiet as everyone turned and silently stared at him.
He recognized his uncle John, in the center of the room with glass in hand for the traditional holiday toast. Robert Valentine stood beside him and Jack met his father’s gaze across the room. The rest of the family clustered on either side of the two men and looked from him to Robert. Jack would swear every last one of them were holding their breath. He could almost reach out and grab the friction out of the air.
Maddie leaned over. “They’re all staring at us, Jack.”
“I know.”
“Do you realize everyone is looking at us as if I’m Scrooge and you’re the Ghost of Christmas Past? Are we crashing a private party?”
“We are, yes.”
Jack didn’t take his eyes off his father. Every muscle in his body tensed as he waited for the man who’d sent him packing to make the first move. The young woman beside Robert looked anxiously between them and the seconds ticked off like the timer on an explosive device.
Finally she rushed over to him. “Jack, you came. I didn’t think you would.”
“Emma?” He recognized the voice, but the petite, curvy young woman in front of him had been a gawky sixteen-year-old when he’d left. Now she was glamorous and sophisticated, her hair no longer light brown, but blonde shot with honey-colored highlights. “You’re all grown up.”
“As are you. You’re just in time for the family toast.” She handed first him then Maddie a flute of champagne.
“Merry Christmas, everyone.” His uncle John continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Here’s to a holiday season filled with health, happiness and success.” He held up his glass. “To family.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the room as everyone sipped from their crystal flutes. Without drinking, Jack set his glass on the white linen cloth covering the table beside him.
“Welcome home, Jack,” Emma said, even as she frowned at the champagne he’d abandoned.
“This isn’t my home.”
And as soon as he met his sister’s new husband, he and Maddie could get the hell out of here. He looked at her bright blonde hair and big blue eyes, letting himself feel the familiar tug for a beautiful woman. In her case he’d never given in to it because he respected her too much. She was different from the women he dated and his relationship with her was as sacred as the separation between church and state.
Emma ignored his sharp words as she looked at Maddie. “Who’s this, then?”
“Madison Ford. I’m Jack’s assistant.” Maddie held out her hand. “Call me Maddie. Or better yet, Scrooge,” she finished.
“No Christmas spirit?” Emma asked.
“I left it back in New York. I had plans.”
“After you called,” Jack said to his sister, “I decided to move up a scheduled business trip and convinced Maddie to come along. Where’s your husband?”
Emma turned to look, then smiled at the man just joining them. He stood military straight, even as he slid his arm around her waist. Not quite as tall as Jack, he had wavy dark hair and brown eyes.
Adoration shone on Emma’s face as she leaned into the man. “His Highness Sebastian Marchand-Dumontier of Meridia meet Jack Valentine, my brother.”
They shook hands and Jack noted the prince’s firm grip. Always squeeze a man’s hand as if you mean it. No one respects you if your hand feels like a limp codfish.
When his father’s words flashed through his mind, Jack knew it had been a mistake to come. Then he looked at Maddie as the prince kissed her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” Maddie said.
“Please, Sebastian is fine,” he said graciously.
Maddie looked at Emma. “That would make you what? Queen? Princess Consort? I can never keep that straight.”
“Emma will do,” she said with a twinkle.
“Quite nicely,” her husband added, smiling down at her.
Maddie was studying his sister. “I think there must be something in the royal rulebook about fabulous jewels. If you show me your tiara, it might almost make up for the fact that I’m missing Christmas in the States.”
Laughing, Emma leaned into her chuckling prince. “I’m afraid the tiara’s at home in Meridia’s royal vault. But do come for a visit, Maddie. I’ve a feeling you and I would get on very well together.”
“I’m not sure I could spare her,” Jack cut in.
“I’d love to visit Meridia,” Maddie countered, shooting him a look. “His Lordship will just have to get along without me.”
“Jack.”
He turned and recognized his older brother, Max, and pleasure shot through him. He put out his hand and Max took it, then the two of them grinned at each other.
Emma cleared her throat. “I’ll let you and Max catch up, Jack.”
“How long will you be in London?” Maddie asked her.
“We’re on holiday for several weeks.” She looked at Jack. “And you? How long will you be here? Are you planning to see Mum?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he said.
“You should.” Emma stood on tiptoe and hesitated a moment before kissing his cheek. “You look well but not happy, Jack.”
The casual comment brought the same rush of emptiness that had washed over him when he’d looked through the window. Why now? He’d managed fine without them all these years, proving he didn’t need them or anyone else.
“Not happy? And you can tell that in five minutes?”
“Less.” She slid her hand into her husband’s and their fingers intertwined. “Now that I know what happiness looks like, it’s easy to see when it’s not there. We’ll talk later.”
She and her husband walked away and mingled with the rest of the family. Then he looked at Max and felt again that soul-deep, overwhelming