Day of the Auction

London, England

The Magi Miracle Network had an angel, it would seem. Despite the late notice and the lingering storm, almost everyone who was anyone had managed to come to the auction of the year.

Kat stood near the door, a very nervous Elizabeth Evans by her side.

The woman’s color was better, and her hands had stopped shaking. The earl had promised a sizable portion of the insurance settlement (the egg had shattered, after all) to keep his daughter’s name out of the papers. And since the egg was still technically the earl’s property at the time his daughter had stolen it, even Interpol had very little say in the matter.

But the fact remained that the Magi Miracle Network had been promised a miracle of its own, and Kat, it so happened, was in the miracle business.

“Are you sure about this?” the charity’s director asked one final time.

And Kat smiled. “Trust me.”

Kat stayed near the door, away from the crowd and the spotlight. She didn’t really belong in that kind of room with the well-dressed, well-educated, well-heeled elite. She belonged at Uncle Eddie’s kitchen table. Which was just as well. Since it was the only place she really wanted to be.

“Why are they here?”

When Hale appeared at Kat’s side he sounded frantic and afraid, two things Kat had rarely seen in him. “Why are these people here?” he shouted. “I did interviews. I made phone calls.”

“Hale, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down. As if it wasn’t bad enough to have to announce that it was…gone. Now we’re going to have to do it again to people’s faces? All these people came out two days before Christmas for this?”

“Hale!” Kat cried just as a man in a tuxedo moved to the front of the room.

“It should be me,” he said. “I’m Hazel’s heir. This is on me.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, still windblown and cold and dotted with snow. “I’ll make the announcement.”

But Kat’s hand was on his arm, and the man at the front of the room was already speaking, his big, deep voice booming through the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the Magi Miracle Network I thank you for attending this evening. It is my distinct pleasure to bring you this, one of the Eggs of the Magi.”

With a flourish, he whisked a black velvet covering off of a pedestal in the center of the room. The pedestal spun slowly, and as it turned, lights caught rubies and emeralds, bits of green and red in a field of gold, and nearly a hundred of the most elite collectors, gallery curators and art experts in the world practically gasped.

“That doesn’t look like a fake,” Hale nearly whispered.

“It isn’t,” Kat said. She couldn’t help but hold her breath as he turned to her.

“Now note in your programs, ladies and gentlemen that there was a mistake in the earlier press clippings,” the emcee went on. “What we offer you tonight is the Frankincense egg. I repeat, of the three priceless Eggs of the Magi, tonight we give you the once in a lifetime opportunity to own the egg dedicated to the second of the Magi’s gifts: Frankincense.”

“Why does that man have your egg, Katarina?” Hale asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“I can explain.”

But Hale was shaking his head. Anger radiated off of him in waves. “No.”

“Hale, I wanted to do it!”

“Kat, I never asked for this!”

“I know! You would never ask for it. That’s what makes you you. But do you have any idea what it’s like to be with someone who could buy anything at any time? This is my gift to you, Hale. Let me give it.”

In the background, people spoke, and a low murmur accentuated with the occasional gasp filled the room, but the auction was a world away. It was almost like Kat and Hale were still children and in his family’s country house. She was still trying to make off with his Monet and he was still trying to follow—two people born on opposite sides of a wall. Two people both longing for life on the other side.

“Kat, that was your mother’s egg.”

“Yes. And now it’s going to help your grandmother’s charity.”

“Hazel’s dead. She’s gone. But you’re still here and you loved that egg, and…”

“I can always steal another one?” she tried to tease, but Hale didn’t think anything was funny anymore.

“You’d never do that.”

“Sure I would,” she told him. “I stole you.”

“Kat, I can’t let you do this,” Hale said, but Kat turned. In the distance, a gavel fell.

And when Kat turned back to him, she could have been sad that her favorite treasure was gone. She might have mourned what it meant. But she just shook her head.

“It’s done.”

Kat felt the cold air that blew through the door as Hale pushed his way outside. Kat didn’t hesitate. She followed.

“Hale!” she called, but he kept walking, head down against the current of people who filled the sidewalk. “Come on, stop. Hey…” She scanned her mental list of W names. “Walter!” she tried, and, finally, he stopped.

“You’ve already guessed that one.”

“Okay. Windsor?” she said and he turned slowly, shaking his head but smiling now. “Wendell? Warren? Wycliffe?”

“Give up, Kat,” he told her as she reached him.

She smiled. “I don’t give up.”

“Yeah. I know.”

The sun was down and they stood on the dark streets of London, surrounded by the twinkle lights in shop windows and streetlights that were growing brighter by the second. And even though the snow fell harder, Kat could feel Hale start to thaw.

“You didn’t have to do it,” he told her.

“Yes, I did,” she said. “But not for you. I had to do it for me.”

She didn’t realize she had started to shake until Hale took off his heavy coat and settled it around her shoulders. It still carried the warmth of his body and she felt cocooned in its warmth, safe.

And then he kissed her.

“You didn’t steal me,” he whispered, his face so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “You rescued me.”

“Like Rapunzel?” she teased, and he kissed her again.

And again.

And again.

“If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

Only then did Kat realize that Marcus was behind them. She’d known him almost since the moment she met Hale, and she wasn’t entirely surprised to see him there.

“Marcus, it’s Christmas,” Hale said. “Let’s go home.”

“Yes, sir. But before we leave, I wanted to say that I know you have been busy, sir. The last I heard you were still looking for the perfect gift for Miss Bishop, so I took the liberty of acquiring this.”

The case in his hands looked just like a regular briefcase. In his dark suit and wool overcoat, Marcus looked just like any other businessman in London, heading home at the end of the day.

But when he raised the case and clicked it open, something inside of Kat knew to hold her breath.

And there it was, nestled in a protective foam frame, newly cleaned and detailed, but unmistakably gorgeous. Unmistakably familiar.

At the sight of the egg, up close and gleaming even in the dark street, Kat wanted to cry.

She never thought she’d see it again, hold it again. She thought it was gone forever, but there it was.

Then she remembered Marcus’s words: the perfect gift for Miss Bishop.

“Marcus!” she gasped just as Hale started to laugh.

“I don’t even care what it cost me,” he said, and Kat hit him on the arm.

“You should care!”

“Kat, what’s the use in being a billionaire if you can’t buy your girl something pretty for Christmas?”

“But…”

She looked to Marcus as if he was going to be any help.

“I spoke with Miriam, and she assured me Hale Industries needed another charitable donation this fiscal year. My sister authorized me to bid at the auction and purchase this item on Mr. Hale’s behalf.”

“Marcus…” Kat was speechless.

Kat felt the two of them turning to her, but she was backing away.

“No, Hale, I can’t take it.”

“Yes.” He pulled her close. “You can.”