The Billionaire's Christmas Cinderella

‘I did all the shopping before I came,’ Naomi said, ‘though now I know it’s a girl I’m sure there’ll be more. Are you excited to be an uncle?’

He raised his eyes, somewhat disarmed by her question.

Abe really hadn’t given being an uncle much thought. Since he’d heard that his brother had got Merida pregnant it had been the legalities that he’d focussed on—making sure the baby was a US citizen and ensuring Merida couldn’t get her hands on any more of the Devereux fortune than the baby assured her.

Only, lately, Merida seemed less and less like the woman Abe had been so certain she was.

In fact, Ethan looked happy.

He didn’t say any of that, of course.

But if you are going to do pizza by the fire on a snowy December night, you do need to do your share of talking, and so he asked her a question. ‘Do you have any nieces or nephews?’

‘No.’ Naomi shook her head and then let out a dreamy sigh. ‘I actually can’t think of anything nicer than to be an aunt.’

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters who might one day oblige you?’

She shook her head.

‘So you’re an only child?’ he casually assumed, and then watched as for the first time colour came to her pale cheeks.

‘I don’t have any family.’

He saw the slight tremble of her fingers as she put down the crust of her pizza.

‘None?’ he checked.

‘I count Merida as family,’ she admitted, ‘but, no.’

Yes, she and Merida were close, but Naomi was very aware that though they were best friends, Merida was far more of Naomi’s world than the other way around.

And that said nothing against Merida. But she had parents, albeit awful ones, and a half-brother and half-sister, and cousins and grandparents.

Naomi had...

Merida.

Her birth mother had wanted nothing whatsoever to do with her and Naomi had no clue who her father was. There had been a foster mum when she’d been a teenager that had been amazing but she’d taken a well-earned retirement in Spain, though they still corresponded. And there was another foster family that she still sent a Christmas card to.

And of course, there were friends she had made along life’s way, but there was no family.

None.

Zip.

‘My mother gave me up for adoption,’ Naomi said, ‘but it never happened.’

She tensed as she awaited the inevitable ‘Why?’ that even virtual strangers felt compelled to ask.

It just made her feel worse.

There were millions of families who wanted babies, surely?

Or, ‘What about your grandparents, didn’t they want you?’

It was hell having to explain that, no, her mother hadn’t fully relinquished her rights for a few years, which had held Naomi in the foster system. And, no, her grandparents hadn’t wanted to clear up their daughter’s mess.

And that, no, there would be no tender reunion between mother and daughter.

At the age of eighteen Naomi had tried.

But her mother had remarried and wanted no reminder of her rebellious past.

Thankfully, though, Abe didn’t ask.

Instead, he watched her pinched face and two lines deepen between her dark blue eyes like a castle gate drawing up in defence. He thought of his own loud, brash family and the dramas and fights at times. He even thought back to his mother, and while there were no warm memories there, still there was history.

He couldn’t fathom having no one.

Yet he did not pry.

And she seemed incredibly grateful for that.

He watched as she visibly shook off dark thoughts and pushed out a smile.

‘So what sort of an uncle do you want to be?’ Naomi asked.

Given what she’d just told him, he didn’t dust off the notion, instead he told her the truth. ‘I really haven’t given it much thought.’ Now he did. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I can’t imagine that she’d want for anything...’ He’d made very sure of that. But as he’d combed through the contract and ensured decent chunks of access for his brother, there had been no thought of where he himself might fit in.

‘I’d like to be...’ Who examined it? Abe wondered. Who actually gave consideration to the type of uncle they wanted to be?

She had made him do just that.

He could hear the spit and crackle of the fire as he gazed into it. Maybe he was feeling maudlin. It would be his father’s funeral soon after all, but on this cold December night, the most guarded and closed off of all the Devereuxes paused a while and thought of the uncle he would like to be.

‘I could take her for pizza now and then,’ he said.

‘And show her how to eat it?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, but then shook his head. ‘I can’t think of anything else.’

‘That’s plenty to be going on with.’ Naomi smiled and when he tore off another slice, it seemed easier, rather than have him hand it to her, to join him on the floor. It simply did. And they sat side by side and spoke, not a lot but enough.

‘So,’ he asked, ‘you’re going to be looking after Ava?’

‘For a little while.’ She saw his frown. ‘I’m a maternity nanny.’

‘What does that mean?’