The Magic of Christmas

by Alyssa J. Montgomery

  Jack shook his head as he looked in at the back of the police car and saw Imogene’s pathetic figure, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The woman was not simply ‘working through a few emotional issues’. She was tragically, certifiably insane.

  Vanessa stood next to the open door with one hand on Imogene’s shoulder. Her tears also flowed freely. ‘I’m so sorry, Jack and Grace. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realise it was this bad.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Vanessa.’ He’d thought Imogene was a bit off balance but he’d had no idea just how unhinged she was or he’d never have exposed Grace to her insanity.

  He should’ve known.

  He should’ve taken steps to protect Grace.

  Grace had warned him. She’d made a comment right at the start that he was about to use her as a human shield and Jack had fobbed it off. But, Grace had been right.

  Jack had nearly been responsible for the death of the woman he loved!

  Chapter 20

  Hours later, when Jack and Grace had given their statements to the police and been given medical clearance to leave the hospital, they went back to Vanessa’s home.

  They learned that Imogene had checked herself out of the psychiatric ward. Now, she was being forcibly admitted and was to undergo a more in-depth psychiatric assessment as soon as possible.

  Exhaustion didn’t come close to describing what Grace was feeling, but sleep was beyond anyone in the aftermath of the horrific events of the night. The remaining Clarke sisters, their husbands, Vanessa and Amadeo all sat around the fireplace with Jack and Grace trying to come to terms with Imogene’s almost lethal actions.

  ‘I had no idea she’d try to commit murder,’ Vanessa kept saying.

  ‘None of us did, Mum,’ her elder daughter soothed.

  As conversation continued around her, one thought flashed on and off in Grace’s mind as though it was in neon lights.

  This had been another horrific Christmas for Jack.

  After having told her as they left Vanessa’s family celebrations that he’d finally defeated the ghosts of Christmases past, another ghoul had raised its head in the form of Imogene. Both Grace and Jack could easily have died and future Christmases were bound to bring the frightening memories of this most recent trauma. More to weigh him down at what should be a happy, loving time of the year.

  Grace shuddered as several mental images of the event replayed. The helplessness of knowing they were skidding out of control right towards a bridge would stay with her forever. Even worse had been the freefalling of the car, plummeting towards the water. That recollection was bound to give her nightmares for years to come.

  The fire crackled in the hearth, but otherwise there was no sound. Looking around at the faces of the seven other individuals in the room, all bore the evidence of shocked disbelief and deep concern.

  A slightly hysterical thought bubbled to the surface.

  Why couldn’t Imogene have picked a different time of the year to try to kill them both?

  With a sigh, Grace shifted her head from where it’d rested against Jack’s shoulder, raised her hand and traced the outline of the firm muscles of his chest. She vowed she’d make Christmas next year perfect for him.

  The only good thing to come from tonight had been that he’d told her he loved her. Now, they’d have a lifetime of Christmases to come and she’d make sure each and every one of them was a happy celebration.

  ‘You should go to bed, Grace.’ Jack rubbed his hand along the back of his neck—most likely in response to the discomfort she’d heard him telling the doctor about.

  ‘Will you come with me?’

  ‘We should all go to bed,’ Amadeo said. ‘Sleep may prove elusive, but we should at least try. We’ll need to set some help in motion for Imogene tomorrow, and last night’s events will doubtless be splashed all across the papers in the next day or two.’

  ‘I’ve organised for a helicopter to pick Grace and me up first thing tomorrow morning. I’d rather be home before this place is besieged with paparazzi,’ Jack told them. ‘We may be gone before any of you are up, so we’ll say goodbye now.’

  Amadeo gave them each a heartfelt embrace. ‘Vanessa’s going to need a lot of support through this. It’s good to know you’ve got each other, but if either of you need me, just call.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  Amadeo’s head jerked back and he looked at Jack in amazement, then nodded slowly. ‘You’re welcome, son.’

  The enormity of the moment wasn’t lost on Grace. Although Jack had frequently referred to Amadeo as his father, not once had Grace heard him call his adoptive father ‘Dad’ in their conversations. Judging by Amadeo’s reaction, he’d never heard the word before from Jack, either.

  Near death situations brought people closer together, Grace supposed. How long would she have had to wait for Jack to tell her he loved her if they hadn’t been at risk of being drowned or hit by a bullet?

  When they were in bed, she affirmed her love for him. ‘I love you, Jack.’

  His frame stiffened.

  ‘Jack?’ He’d already told her he loved her. Surely he hadn’t only said the words because their deaths had been a distinct possibility?

  Instead of answering her straightaway, he raised one hand and ran his palm down over her hair. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. ‘You could’ve died tonight.’

  ‘Yes.’ She planted a kiss against his chest. ‘We both could’ve, but here we are, alive and unharmed and with the rest of our lives stretched out ahead of us.’

  ‘I had no idea I was placing you in any physical danger when I asked you to pose as my lover.’

  ‘How could you have known? This didn’t exactly play out like a scene from the movie Fatal Attraction where one of us arrived home and had a very nasty surprise boiling away on the stove.’ She shuddered. ‘Did you even know she had a car like yours?’

  ‘She didn’t. I spoke to Amadeo at the hospital and he told me the police said it was a hire car from an exclusive hire company.’

  ‘That’s seriously obsessive behaviour, and yet apart from a bit of bitchiness towards me and trying to get your attention with the party organisation, there was no other sign, was there?’

  Jack pushed his head back into the pillows, but she noticed he moved gingerly and realised his neck must still be giving him pain. ‘I’ve been trying to figure out whether I missed anything else but I can’t come up with a thing.’

  ‘Amadeo said they’ve charged her with attempted murder.’

  ‘It was premeditated. There’s no doubt about it.’ Regret was etched into the brackets at the sides of Jack’s mouth. ‘Her lawyers will have to plead insanity. She was parked at the side road waiting for us to drive by.’

  ‘And she had a loaded gun.’ Grace shuddered. The woman had really meant to kill them. The truth was still sinking in.

  ‘It won’t go well for her, but I do believe she belongs in a psychiatric unit rather than a prison.’

  Grace’s heart went out to Imogene’s mother. ‘Poor Vanessa.’

  ‘Dad will support her through this. My concern is your well-being. It was one hell of an ordeal. How are you holding up?’

  ‘I’ll be fine if you hold me all night, Jack. Here is good, but I want to be home with you, in bed, with your arms around me, feeling protected and safe.’

  The hand that’d been stroking her hair faltered.

  Had she said the wrong thing?

  Misgivings started crowding in on her and she became desperate for Jack to tell her again that he loved her and wanted her in his life, yet she sensed he’d drawn a barrier between them.

  Ridiculous. You’re imagining it. You’ve both suffered a massive shock and you, Grace, are way beyond exhausted. Things will be different in the morning.

  Things will be different in the morning.

  The words were repeated like a mantra.

  Grace was still half asleep the next morning when Jack r
oused her and urged her to get dressed because the helicopter was about to land in Vanessa’s back field. She had no memory of the helicopter journey, only a vague recollection of arriving in London and no memory at all of arriving at Jack’s home in Belgravia, nor of being carried up to bed and then undressed by him. At some point she was aware they were in bed together, but she didn’t wake up until almost midday and things were no different. Jack had well and truly retreated from her.

  ‘I can’t do this, Grace. I thought I could. You made me think I could.’ He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

  There was huge pressure in her chest, pushing against her diaphragm.

  His handsome face was completely devoid of emotion, and every masculine angle and plane was more pronounced. ‘What can’t you do?’

  ‘I can’t have an ongoing relationship with you.’

  Weight. The enormous weight of an unseen boulder made it almost impossible to draw breath. Her throat closed over and went into spasms.

  No, no, no! ‘You told me last night that you loved me.’

  ‘And loving you nearly got you killed.’

  ‘No! Imogene nearly killed us both. You—saved—me.’

  Panic threatened to seize her thinking, but she had to get through to him. She had to make Jack understand that his love was a wonderful thing, not a negative.

  ‘I can’t be with you.’ His hands formed fists on top of the sheet that covered him, and he sat straighter and twisted his body to face her. ‘If I could be with anyone it would be you, Grace. But I can’t.’ Each word was a tortured plea. ‘Don’t you understand that?’

  ‘I understand what we both went through was harrowing.’ She tried to make him see reason even while panic bubbled inside her. ‘But we went through it and emerged.’

  ‘But you could’ve been killed—’

  ‘So could you.’

  ‘—and it would’ve been my fault.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes.’ He leapt up from the bed, thrust his arms into his bathrobe and began tying the belt around his waist. ‘I put you in the firing line by being with you.’

  It was back to square one.

  ‘I was with you out of choice, Jack. I was with you because I wanted to be with you.’

  ‘It’s no good, Grace. This isn’t going to work between us.’

  Noooo, she screamed internally.

  ‘We need to say goodbye.’

  ‘You’re still in shock.’ She got out of the bed and went to stand before him, still completely naked.

  ‘No. I’ve been thinking this through all night. I care far too much about you to endanger you.’

  ‘One mad woman comes along and you’re giving up on us?’

  ‘She could’ve killed you,’ he repeated as if he was still trying to absorb the reality of what had happened. ‘I don’t want your death on my conscience.’

  ‘Then hire me a goddamned bodyguard! You can afford it and I’ll willingly accept round-the-clock protection if that’s what it’ll take to make you comfortable.’ But she knew any plea and any concession on her part was a waste of effort. His mind was made up.

  He didn’t have to mention Lizzie. She knew the near death of his school friend was weighing heavily on his mind again and guessed he was drawing parallels between Lizzie’s attack and Grace’s brush with death last night.

  Jack reached out and took each of her upper arms in his firm grip. ‘Your life’s about to change dramatically. Sadie’s already spoken to us about the whirlwind you’re about to be caught up in as your musical career launches.’ His throat worked up and down as he swallowed and the next words seemed to force themselves through a dry, tight vocal tract. ‘You need to be free from me to enjoy all that’s ahead of you.’

  ‘No! I want to do this with you by my side. All the performance opportunities wouldn’t be ahead of me if it weren’t for you.’ Oh God! She sounded so dependent upon him. It wasn’t that she thought she couldn’t do it alone, but it would be so much better if she could share the ride with Jack. Everything in her life seemed more meaningful since she’d met him. ‘Don’t do this to us, Jack. Not if you love me.’

  ‘Don’t you understand? It’s because I love you that I have to let you go.’

  Grace buried her face in her hands.

  ‘Please, Grace. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.’

  Her hands fell to her sides. ‘You want an easy break-up? Tough. I’m not giving it to you. I’ll walk away, Jack, and I’ll embrace my future, but don’t you dare think for a moment that I’ll be enjoying it as much without you. Don’t you dare think you haven’t broken my heart and don’t you dare think you can sit here and tell yourself it’s in my own best interests that you’re breaking up with me because it’s damned well not.’ She spun away from him and started getting dressed.

  Every action conveyed her anger yet still he remained silent. When she was finally decent enough to leave she turned back to him one more time. ‘You’re not the only one who’s had tragedy in their life. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop living in fear and do yourself a favour. Read that goddamned book I gave you for Christmas, get over it and move forward!’

  Holding her head high, Grace walked out of his bedroom—the room that’d been their bedroom for so many nights.

  Every step she took, she hoped she’d hear him call her name—hoped he’d call her back and tell her he’d been a fool, but the blasted man with his warped sense of honour had to keep shouldering the blame for everything that went wrong in his world.

  She’d tried to help him and she’d failed, and while she was leaving a huge part of her heart in his Belgravia mansion, she still had part of it pumping away inside her.

  Maybe her love life would never be a success, but she’d take the opportunity he’d given her professionally and she’d succeed in that area of her life. And, every day she’d pray that somehow he’d come to terms with everything and come after her.

  Chapter 21

  It was late October and Jack walked back to his office after his weekly luncheon with his father.

  Amadeo’s married life with Vanessa was going well despite the rough ride they’d had with Imogene’s court case and all the publicity that’d surrounded it.

  As Jack neared the intersection at Oxford Street, his eyes sought the poster that’d been plastered up on the giant billboard two weeks ago. It was a huge portrait of Grace, advertising her concert at Royal Albert Hall tomorrow night.

  She was doing well and Jack couldn’t be more proud of her, but she wasn’t his to be proud of anymore.

  Jack had let her go and she’d moved on. There was hardly a day Grace didn’t appear in the newspapers. She’d shot to superstardom, people couldn’t seem to get enough of her, and the press were constantly snapping pictures.

  Grace had given them plenty of photographic opportunities. Most nights when she wasn’t performing, she was photographed about town with one guy or another. Jack wished he hadn’t been aware of the reported affairs she’d had, but he couldn’t stop himself from reading the articles. There’d been the Italian count, the German banker, a Hollywood actor, and several titled suitors from very old, very well-respected British families.

  The weekend in Vienna that he’d tried to make so special must now pale into insignificance. Grace had made a habit these last ten months of flying in private jets, rubbing shoulders with European royalty and being courted by men—some of whom were even wealthier than he was.

  Tonight she was being interviewed again on national television about her rapid rise to fame, and although it killed him to see her when she was no longer his, he’d watch the interview because he needed to know she was happy. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d watched her on television since she’d performed at her first concert in March.

  The press had been interested in her on a number of levels. Sadly, it wasn’t only her musical brilliance that’d drawn attention. She was a beautiful woman. That she’d been known to be romantically
involved with Jack combined with all the unfortunate press coverage of her attempted murder, had made journalists and the public even keener for any piece of information they could obtain.

  After the initial frenzy of media attention, the public had learnt of the tragic deaths of Grace’s parents and her struggle with literacy—her rise from cleaner to performer. It’d made for sensational reading and every editor in town had exploited the ‘underdog comes good’ angle to garner reader interest.

  But, even more appealing to the public had been Grace’s humble, beautiful manner and the way she’d opened up so honestly about many parts of her life. The only topics she refused to speak of were her affair with Jack or any of her subsequent suitors, and Imogene’s attempt on their lives.

  The interview tonight on a late night show was titled: ‘Amazing Grace, How sweet thy sound.’

  Realising he’d been standing in the middle of the pavement looking up at Grace’s poster for several minutes while people had walked around him, Jack resumed his walk back to the office and turned into Oxford Street.

  ‘Watch out!’

  Jack didn’t heed the warning in time and he cannoned straight into someone. Recovering his own footing, Jack cursed then had a strong sense of déjà-vu as a scene from almost twelve months ago replayed in his head.

  ‘It’s you again!’ Jack burst out in astonishment.

  He instantly recognised the man he’d run into.

  It was the same guy.

  It had to be.

  Thoroughly perplexed, Jack shook his head and stared down at the guy who’d been carrying a box of Christmas decorations. The guy lay sprawled on the pavement as large gold and silver balls rolled out of the box, bounced on the pavement and then rolled into the gutters.

  ‘I remember you,’ the guy told him as he got to his feet and wiped off his green trousers. ‘Same time of year, same story,’ he said tiredly. ‘You may not have learnt much in the last twelve months, but I would’ve thought you’d at least have learned to look where you’re going when you’re coming around a corner.’