A Christmas Affair

by Carole Mortimer

  'What is it?' Dominic had been watching the changing expressions flitting across her face.

  She shrugged, trying to smile and failing miserably. 'It isn't exactly the Christmas I had planned for myself,' she admitted wearily.

  His mouth tightened, his eyes like hard green pebbles. 'It isn't exactly the Christmas any of us had planned for ourselves. But we'll just have to put up with each other, won't we?'

  'I didn't mean—'

  'It doesn't really matter what you meant, Cathy,' he rasped. 'The truth of the matter is we're stuck here and we'll both just have to damn well make the best of it!' He strode forcefully out of the kitchen.

  Cathy felt as if he had physically slapped her. God knew the situation was bad enough without the two of them insulting each other. And it hadn't been her idea that he drive her down to Devon, damn it, that had been his own arrogance. No one could have foreseen the ac­cident that had rendered the car undriveable. Could she help it that Dominic was now stuck with her for goodness knew how long—and was obviously hating every minute of it?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AFTER the explosive end to their conversation, Cathy didn't feel like facing Dominic again straight away. She heard him moving about in the lounge as she went up the stairs to explore the accommodation there.

  It comprised three small bedrooms, once again furnished with only the bare essentials; it certainly couldn't be advertised as 'luxurious accommodation'! And there was no bedlinen but a few duvets. It was to be expected, of course; most people preferred to sleep in their own sheets where possible.

  But the consistent lack of any real creature-comforts, such as warm bedlinen, made her wonder exactly where she and Dominic were going to sleep.

  'In here, of course,' Dominic told her when she questioned him about it.

  He was still in the lounge, having moved the electric fire to one side to reveal an open fire­place behind it.

  Of course, she mocked self-derisively, where else would they sleep?

  'It's the only room that will have any warmth at all,' Dominic continued distractedly. 'That is, it will have if I can find anything we can burn.' He frowned.

  'I glanced outside while I was upstairs looking at the bedrooms.' Cathy repressed a shudder at the memory of the unblemished blanket of snow she had seen in the moonlight outside; it had just increased her feelings of desolation. 'I could see a shed of some sort at the back of the cottage,' she supplied what she hoped would be helpful information.

  He nodded. 'I'll go out and check inside it. If the worst comes to the worst, I suppose we could always burn the shed itself.'

  Cathy wished he were joking, but she knew by the grim determination of his expression that he wasn't. And what if it did come to that? Dominic could replace the shed too, after all.

  He was very adept at setting his world to rights with money. At least he hadn't com­pletely insulted her earlier today and offered her money if she would continue to work for him—although the offer of those shares had to be classed as a definite bribe.

  Strange, she frowned, she had never noticed before just how much Dominic used the power of his money to get what he wanted.

  'Don't worry,' he drawled at her expression. 'I'll only resort to that as a drastic measure. In the meantime, why don't you see about getting out the "cold roast ham and other assorted meats, plus some fine cheeses and wines" so that we can have a supper of some kind when I get back?'

  You man, me woman, Cathy thought rue­fully as she began to unpack the assortment of foods.

  Besides the roast ham there was also smoked salmon, pâté, roast beef, the cheeses, assorted pickles, ginger in syrup, tins of fruit, a box of delicious-looking marzipans and mints, half a dozen bottles of wine and, of all things, a jar of popcorn.

  The hamper had been designed to enhance Christmas, not make up the sole fare, and it seemed a strange mixture to put out on plates for them to choose from. But at least the wines were good and might help them to digest the food. At least they wouldn't have to worry about using up some of their precious elec­tricity on keeping the food refrigerated; the cottage itself was like an icebox!

  Dominic hadn't returned to the cottage by the time she had put the selection of food out, and so she went out into the hallway to try and block up the hole in the glass part of the door with a piece of cardboard from the back of the marzipan box. It wasn't too successful, but at least the wind volume had been reduced slightly.

  But Dominic still wasn't back—had been gone almost half an hour now. Surely it didn't take that long to break into the shed—he cer­tainly seemed to be getting a lot of practice at that tonight—and looking around for some­thing they could burn on the fire?

  Of course it didn't, she realised worriedly!

  Oh, God, perhaps that bump he had re­ceived on the head had been serious, after all? She shouldn't have left it this long before checking up on him.

  She rushed out into the darkness, the light from the kitchen window and open doorway guiding her down the garden, although it seemed eerily silent as she approached the dark bulk of the shed.

  What on earth was she going to do if Dominic had collapsed out here somewhere? He was much too big and heavy for her to drag back down to the cottage.

  God, he could have been lying out here in the snow unconscious the whole time she had been pottering around inside the cottage, getting colder and colder, closer and closer to—

  'Oh!' She let out a distressed cry as she col­lided with a solid mass that had appeared in front of her, giving a shaky sigh of relief as she realised it was Dominic's chest she had walked into.

  'What the—?'

  'Oh, God, it's you! It's you!' she gasped, clasping hold of his arms.

  'Of course it's me,' he answered impatiently. 'Who were you expecting, the Abominable Snowman?'

  His sarcasm angered her after the concern she had had for his welfare. 'What on earth have you been doing out here?' she demanded heatedly.

  His eyes narrowed in the torchlight he had flicked on between them. 'Perhaps it's slipped your memory,' he rasped, 'but I came out here to look for coal or wood.'

  'That was ages ago,' she accused, her relief at finding he was all right after all turning into anger in the face of his complete disregard for her feelings. But then, when had it ever been any different?

  He nodded abruptly. 'It took a little longer than I anticipated—'

  'Did you find any?' she cut in waspishly, still trembling slightly from the fear she had felt for his safety only minutes earlier.

  'Some coal,' he answered dismissively. 'Enough to last a few days, anyway.'

  'Then maybe you could bring some of it inside and we can get a fire going?' She turned away angrily.

  Dominic's hand on her arm halted her, before he swung her round to face him. 'I re­alise you're getting hungry,' he bit out force­fully. 'But that's no reason for you to—'

  'My hunger has nothing to do with my mood,' she blazed, grey eyes shooting flames. 'I was angry for quite another reason. But I wouldn't want to bore you again with my concern for you!' She glared up at him challengingly.

  His face, all hard planes and angles in the torchlight, softened to a gentleness that was rarely seen. 'This hasn't been much fun for you so far, has it?' he acknowledged ruefully.

  Cathy shrugged, a little of the tension leaving her body. 'It wasn't meant to be fun. After all, I'm the one who drove into the snowdrift and damaged the car so that we couldn't go on any further.'

  'The conditions would probably have stopped us doing that anyway very shortly. And don't forget the car driving on the wrong side of the road,' he said softly. 'You couldn't have foreseen that.'

  'It was a mythical car, according to you,' she reminded him tautly.

  'I never said that.' He shook his head. 'Only that I should have been driving at the time.'

  'And, naturally, you would have taken a dif­ferent evasive action,' she sighed.

  'No.' He turned away to pick up the bucket of coal he
had ready.

  'No?' Cathy repeated incredulously, frowning up at him as they walked back to the cottage.

  'No,' he repeated in an amused voice, standing to one side as he waited for her to enter the cottage ahead of him.

  'But—'

  'Hm, the food looks good,' he murmured in passing. 'And I wouldn't have taken any evasive action unless it looked absolutely necessary at the last minute; the other driver should have been the one who got stuck in the snowdrift.' He began to lay the fire.

  Her response to the headlights blazing di­rectly in her path had been one of gut reaction, swinging the wheel instinctively to the left. But maybe Dominic was right and if she had waited just a few seconds more they wouldn't have been the ones off the road and in this predicament.

  Dominic had a small blaze going in the fire­place, the sticks he had found catching light fast, the hot flames licking about the coal.

  He looked up at her. 'How about putting me a selection of food on a plate while I nurse this along a while longer?'

  So much for the decorative display she had arranged in the kitchen! But what difference did it really make, as long as they ate?

  'Your brother-in-law doesn't know what he's missing,' Dominic told her appreciatively after several mouthfuls of the food and an enjoyable sip of the wine.

  'Yes, he does,' Cathy grimaced. 'I told him over the phone that I was bringing the hamper down.'

  Dominic returned the smile, then sobered suddenly. 'Your family are going to be worried.'

  She had already thought of that, but there was no telephone at the cottage, and no other means of communication either—otherwise they wouldn't still be here! But she had de­cided there was little point in her worrying about it too; at least she knew she was all right.

  'I'll walk back down to the car soon and leave a message inside saying where we are—'

  'No!' she cried out in panic; she couldn't bear it if something happened to him. Not working for him was one thing, having him ill or possibly worse was something else completely.

  He gave a puzzled frown. 'It shouldn't take me that long—'

  'I said no, Dominic,' she cut in with fierce determination.

  'If you're worried about being left here on your own—'

  'You have to be the most insensitive man alive!' Cathy stood up with her plate still in her hands and walked out of the room, her breath coming in shaky gasps as she leant back against one of the kitchen cabinets, her head bowed.

  'Cathy…?'

  She turned sharply, her head going back challengingly as she met Dominic's eyes. 'Have you come in here to insult me again?' She at­tacked instinctively.

  He gave a rueful grimace. 'I didn't realise I had the first time.'

  'That's the trouble with you,' she bit out waspishly.

  'I thought the trouble with me was that I'm the most insensitive man alive,' he drawled derisively.

  Hot colour darkened her cheeks, but she re­fused to be bowed by it. 'You are,' she insisted firmly. 'You're also—'

  'Enough,' he cried off with a grin. 'I have to make that trip now really if I'm going.' He glanced out of the window. 'It looks like more snow. I should think the bookmakers have taken a pounding on the chances of a white Christmas this year.' He began to pull on his thick jacket.

  'That's right,' Cathy followed him agi­tatedly to the door, 'make light of the whole thing!'

  Dominic turned with a sigh. 'Think sensibly, Cathy,' he reasoned. 'Help could be passing us by on the road not half a mile away, but they just don't know where we are.'

  As far as she was concerned they could be stranded here until the thaw if it meant Dominic wasn't to endanger himself! 'I've been sensible for five years,' she told him heatedly, 'arranged your schedule, helped juggle your business empire with one hand while an­swering your telephone with the other, lived and breathed your damned business. Isn't it time you did something for me?' Her eyes blazed with emotion.

  'I thought I was,' he returned quietly.

  It was because her family would be worried that he was doing this; he had no family to worry about him, she realised with a guilty pang. But even so…

  Her brow creased in a thoughtful frown. 'Let's compromise,' she finally said with a frown. 'Don't go back to the car tonight; go tomorrow, if you feel you must.'

  'And if the weather is worse by then?'

  Cathy shrugged. Then you don't go.'

  He gave a rueful smile. That doesn't sound like much of a compromise to me.'

  That's because you—'

  'Not another criticism, Cathy!' He sounded exasperated. 'I didn't realise I was so impossible.'

  Impossible. Infuriating. More often than not unappreciative. But she loved him anyway.

  'Oh, but you are,' she assured him lightly. 'And you don't know the meaning of the word "compromise".'

  He grimaced. 'Perhaps not, but I have a feeling you might be going to try and teach it to me.'

  To her chagrin her cheeks felt hot with colour at the near-intimacy of his words. But she had to have been imagining that; she was just making a fool of herself by blushing like a schoolgirl.

  'Whatever are you going to do without a telephone, Dominic?' she taunted as she stacked their empty plates. 'You'll suffer from withdrawal symptoms!'

  He gave an irritated frown. 'You make me sound like a workaholic'

  She smiled. 'I would have thought that was the greatest compliment anyone could have paid you.'

  Green eyes narrowed. 'You don't have much of an opinion of me, do you?'

  Cathy looked at him in some surprise. 'I consider you to be one of the most brilliant men I've ever met,' she answered slowly.

  His mouth twisted. 'Businessmen,' he clar­ified drily.

  Her brows rose. 'What else is there?'

  'What indeed?' He gave an abrupt incli­nation of his head. 'OK, Cathy, I'll go down to the car tomorrow if it makes you happier,' he bit out tersely. 'But I do it on the under­standing that, if the weather conditions are too bad by then for me to venture out, it was your idea I should wait.' He threw off his coat again.

  A step down for him, with a sting in its tail: she had to realise she was responsible for the decision. It was typical of Dominic. But she didn't care who had to take the responsibility, as long as Dominic didn't go out into the bleakness of the night with the snow still falling. The horrific picture that briefly formed in her mind of him perhaps stranded and helpless out there in that blinding snow was enough to confirm the need for her stub­bornness. She didn't give a damn if Dominic was only agreeing under protest.

  'If I did manage to get help, there's a poss­ibility that you could be with your family tomorrow after all,' he pointed out softly.

  If he managed to get help… Even the mi­nutest chance of failure was enough to make her shudder!

  'The risk is too great tonight. I would rather we both got out of this alive, thank you,' she told him irritably.

  He shrugged broad shoulders. 'Just don't say I didn't offer. I don't want this to be something else for you to throw up in my face in the future.'

  She drew herself up angrily. 'Since I doubt very much that we will see each other in the "future", the possibility of that seems very remote!'

  His eyes narrowed to green slits, and Cathy could feel the cold fury emanating from him as they faced each other across the width of the room. But she didn't care about his anger; all she cared about was keeping him safe, for tonight at least.

  'Besides,' she added tauntingly, 'why should I have your death on my conscience?'

  And how's that to be going on with? she mused furiously as she banged about in the kitchen tidying away the debris from the meal. Not that she meant it for a minute, but the nerve of the man!

  'I think I'll just go back outside and get some more coal in for the night.'

  Cathy had been so intent on her angry thoughts, making so much noise as she threw the dirty plates into the water in the sink, that she hadn't been aware of Dominic's presence close behind
her. She was so startled that the plate she had been holding dropped out of her hand back into the water, splashing a large dollop of the soapy bubbles into the air before it landed partly on her face and partly down the front of her jumper.

  She looked down at herself in utter stupe­faction, made aware of the ridiculousness of the whole situation even as she became aware of how silly she must look with soap bubbles dripping off her; what on earth were they ar­guing for, when who knew what tomorrow might bring? If there was a tomorrow for them at all…

  'I shouldn't be long,' Dominic murmured quietly, leaving the kitchen before she could make any response.

  Cathy gazed sightlessly out of the blackness of the window in front of her as she mechan­ically washed the plates and placed them in the drying tray, the tears falling unchecked down her cheeks. She had never felt so miserable.

  She had made a conscious decision to sep­arate her life from Dominic's, the hardest de­cision she had ever had to make in her life, a decision that was slowly but surely breaking her heart, and yet here they were in the middle of nowhere verbally ripping each other to shreds. How could she have made that remark about his death being on her conscience? If anything happened to him she would want to die too; that was the reason she was so determined he shouldn't go out in the cold and darkness tonight.

  It was this vulnerability that was slowly de­stroying her.

  She deliberately kept her back towards him as she heard him re-enter the kitchen, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that her vulner­ability was written all over her face.

  'I know it isn't much,' he murmured softly. 'But I thought it might help.'

  Cathy turned with a frown, the frown deep­ening as she saw the small conifer in a bucket of earth that he held in his arms.

  'I saw it peeping up through the top of the snow in the garden, and digging it up to bring into the cottage seemed like a good idea at the time,' he added with a grimace as she con­tinued to stare at him. 'That was what was taking me so long earlier.' He shrugged. 'I re­alise it's a bit small to be a Christmas tree, but I thought it might look passable with a little decoration on it.'