Christmas With Her Ex

by Fiona McArthur

This was the hard part. But he deserved the truth. ‘We were too young. And I didn’t think I was the best thing for you at that time.’

  He shrugged. ‘Perhaps. I obviously had no say in the matter. I can certainly see now that maybe you were too young.’

  The comment held a tinge of mockery that raised her temper another notch. ‘But not too young to see I was going from one controlling relationship straight into another.’

  Connor felt the words go right through him. Like someone had just knifed his hand to the table and he couldn’t move. ‘That’s not true. I was all about making sure you were safe. I wanted to look after you. Be there for you.’

  She shook her head and her hair slid like a cap from side to side. ‘I wasn’t strong enough for you then, Connor. You organised everything. You organised me. Dressed me. You railroaded me when I wasn’t sure we were doing the right thing. I was in the train coming to you before I realised it was a little too close to home. Too like the way my father had treated my mother before she left. The way he treated me. As if I didn’t have a brain of my own. Wasn’t responsible for anything. I didn’t want us to end up like that.’

  It was her turn to shrug. ‘So I got cold feet.’ And the air between them was getting colder too. There was no curve to his lips now. No smile in his eyes. She’d hurt him again and she hadn’t intended that.

  Connor had a sudden memory of his grandmother telling him he was too carefully organised. Bossy, even. It wasn’t true. If you didn’t make sure things were done a certain way then bad things happened. He’d learnt that early on in life. In the worst possible way.

  ‘I think you had it wrong. I only wanted what was best for you,’ he said quietly.

  She spread her hands. ‘You’re entitled to think that. But I still think I was right. I should have confronted you on the day, I know that. Only I was too scared you’d sweep my fears away. But I am sorry I hurt you.’

  You don’t look sorry enough, Connor thought bitterly. ‘Well, thanks for that.’

  She stood up. At least it saved him doing it. Clearly, this conversation was only going to deteriorate from here.

  ‘My pleasure,’ she said, and internally he winced. Their little talk hadn’t turned out quite how he’d hoped.

  She looked down at her barely touched glass. ‘Thanks for the drink. Enjoy the rest of the trip with your gran.’

  She walked away, her dignity intact, and he wondered just how close she’d been to losing her temper. He had a sudden thought that she might have been very close to an explosion. He’d have liked to have seen that and maybe then they would have been on an even footing.

  But Connor felt incredibly hard done by and actually quite wild on his own part. So it had been his fault for not listening when she’d had second thoughts about getting married? Well, if he’d realised just how cold her feet had been he would have listened. He wasn’t a mind reader.

  He’d been a romantic! He’d arranged flowers and chocolates for after the wedding back at their flat. A bottle of champagne he’d been unable to afford in the fridge because he’d thought she might need a glass before they made love for the first time. He’d wanted everything to be perfect for her.

  And she’d said he was too organised! But someone had to be. Didn’t they?

  He downed his beer and picked up her gin and tonic. It tasted disgusting but he drank it anyway. Well, she was no immature girl now. She was fair game. So game on!

  Half an hour later, as they entered Austria, Connor saw Kelsie sweep off the train in Innesbruck. Her long scarf trailed behind her as she strode up the platform and he decided a breath of fresh air would be just the thing.

  He’d spent the last thirty minutes going over their conversation. Too bossy, eh? He was going to be so damn deferential he’d drive her crazy. He didn’t know why it was so important to let Kelsie know she’d missed out on the catch of a lifetime but there was definite satisfaction in the thought, and the next twenty hours was a large amount of time to kill with nothing better to do. Then they would really be over.

  A sardonic voice inside enquired if he was sure of that…

  When he climbed down the steps she was sweeping up and down the platform like a ghost was after her and he had an idea his younger self may have been that illusion she was escaping from.

  Well, he needed to banish that phantom too if he was going to win this little battle. He wasn’t quite sure when it had become a war but he was in no doubt that he was planning one.

  He’d walked the other way so that she was almost ready to board again before he approached her, and he saw her eyes widen as he came near.

  ‘Kelsie. Just one minute.’ And he smiled. Very friendly. Slightly rueful. ‘Can I apologise again?’

  She raised those truly quite delightful eyebrows and he admired the view as he waited for her to speak. ‘For what?’

  They both watched Wolfgang polish the fingermarks off the handrail with his white gloves as he stood beside the steps.

  He lowered his voice. ‘My lack of manners. I’m sorry. I was less than gracious earlier and of course I accept your apology for not marrying me.’ He smiled again.

  It seemed she wasn’t ready to board now, but maybe the impact would be greater if he chose to leave, so he inclined his head and climbed the steps, leaving her alone again. He could feel her eyes on him as he disappeared inside and he chewed his lip to stop laughing out loud.

  He felt like that blasted nineteen-year-old again as he went in search of his gran.

  The bar car was crowded when Kelsie moved through the doorway to join the pre-dinner throng and her long black gown clung lovingly to her breasts and thighs. At least it wasn’t falling off.

  She’d missed the first ten minutes of pre-dinner drinks when one of the gold-linked straps holding up the bodice had snapped and she’d needed an urgent repair.

  One-handed, she’d called for Wolfgang, who’d swooped to the rescue with a tiny pair of pliers on request.

  She’d decided that taking the extra time to check and squeeze each link could be an investment in preventing her future embarrassment. Even with the repairs the bodice of the gown dived a little lower into her cleavage than she remembered but not as low as it would if the strap broke. The last thing she needed was Connor coming to her rescue from a wardrobe malfunction. He’d done that in the past too.

  The bar wasn’t full, but her aunt had been right about formal dress. Wow!

  The pianist was in a velvet brocade jacket that would have done justice to a very swish couch cover and his music soaked the car with waves of pleasure like the scenery outside—sometimes soaring, sometimes gentle, always melodic and accompanying the sound of the rails below.

  Scattered on small tables and along the curved bar were bowls of nuts, petits fours and canapés, and all the while through the windows she could see white-capped mountains and white houses with Christmas lights and church spires and tumbling mountain streams.

  And inside, just as grand, the men were in dinner suits with bow ties. The maître d’ wore black tails and the waiters wore formal white.

  The same young man was still at the bar, a little less steady, and he leered when he saw her.

  ‘You look beautiful, madam.’

  Kelsie smiled back at him carefully, and decided he was too young for her, and a bit too effusive.

  ‘Doesn’t she?’

  She had no idea where Connor had come from but he was by her side as he smiled at the man. His shoulders looked very impressive in his black dinner suit and the young man suddenly seemed insignificant. ‘Would you like to introduce me to your friend, Kelsie?’

  What on earth was Connor doing? ‘If only I could,’ she said, and held out her hand to the man. ‘I’m Kelsie.’

  The bar fly was happy to take her fingers. ‘Winston Albert the Third.’ He shook her hand and they both looked at Connor.

  ‘Connor Black.’ He glanced down the carriage as more people arrived. ‘Ah. My grandmother beckons. Perhaps you’d like to jo
in us, Kelsie? Or later?’

  He didn’t move off immediately, but there was no hint of pressure either way, and Kelsie couldn’t help feeling a little abandoned, which might have been why she found herself taking Connor’s arm as She nodded goodbye to the other man.

  She had the feeling she’d been outmanoeuvred. She wasn’t sure how when it had all been her choice, but the feeling persisted.

  The train jolted suddenly, the whole carriage shifted and there was a small outcry, and she probably would have fallen if Connor hadn’t caught her. He looked down at her and grinned as he steadied her against his chest for a moment as their bodies remembered one another. Instant, scorching heat flared between them as their eyes caught and held.

  ‘Are you starting a new habit of saving me?’ she asked with a shaky laugh, and he raised his brows.

  ‘Do I need to?’ he asked softly.

  She blushed and looked away. On the tiny scrap of dance floor a young couple had turned a near accident into an impromptu waltz and their obvious absorption in each other cast a glow over the whole carriage, so people were smiling despite a few spilt drinks. There was a brief round of applause for the dancers when they separated.

  Further down the carriage, Winsome, dressed in blue shot silk, had somehow managed to secure a full side-facing seat and sat with another elderly lady with flaming red hair who waved hands laden with diamonds.

  Kelsie’s fingers rested over Connor’s arm and he drew her forward so she had no choice but to intrude on the older women. ‘Lady Geraldine, this is Kelsie Summers. a friend from my school days.’

  He gestured to the older lady. ‘Kelsie, Lady Geraldine, who sat on a committee of a large charity with my grandmother several years ago.’

  Lady Geraldine inclined her head, Kelsie smiled, and then sat when Winsome patted the sat beside her.

  Why did she feel the jaws of a trap were closing around her?

  ‘Winsome and I have arranged a table for ourselves,’ Lady Geraldine said, as if continuing a conversation Kelsie had missed the start of. ‘We don’t want to bore you young things with our gossip.’

  The implications were immediately obvious. Another man and Connor exchanged a glance, as if they were measuring each other up and considering the prospect of a foursome for dinner.

  Kelsie was watching the older women as if she knew there was more coming. And there was.

  ‘Instead, we have three tables.’ Geraldine smiled. ‘One for each couple.’

  Charlotte, the granddaughter, looked as if she wanted to groan aloud. ‘I don’t think you’re allowed to change arrangements like that, are you, Gran?’

  Lady Geraldine merely tapped the side of her nose. ‘Wait and see where the maître d’ puts us all,’ she murmured. And then she winked at Winsome. ‘Being old doesn’t entirely deprive us of our ability to charm men into doing what we want, does it, Winnie?’

  ‘Not at all, dear. As you say, age is only an attitude.’

  Winsome seemed surprised when Connor didn’t demur at her seating arrangements. She wasn’t the only one surprised. Kelsie hadn’t thought Connor would enjoy being organised by someone other than himself.

  ‘Absolutely. I’m sure you and Lady Geraldine have a lot of catching up to do. I’m quite fine sitting with Kelsie if that’s what you’ve arranged. As long as Kelsie doesn’t mind.’

  Kelsie declined to comment but decided she needed a drink for fortitude.

  Connor must have picked up on her thoughts because he disappeared and returned with a glass of champagne. He handed it to Kelsie as if it was his lot to meet her needs, and she decided something was going on here because the vibes were so-o-o different from those at lunch and certainly different from when they had parted that afternoon.

  And now they’d have to sit together, alone, for a formal dinner.

  She took another sip and wondered what the alcohol content in her blood was running at since boarding this darned train and whether it was interfering with her usual caution.

  Conversation flowed remarkably easily until the gong went for dinner. The bar car had filled up, men and women flashed their jewels and fabulous clothes, stilted conversations merged into introductions as strangers tried to make conversation as they waited to be allocated their tables.

  Kelsie felt the heat in her cheeks as Connor stood attentively beside her. People dodged the champagne buckets and others milled and chatted in the small space as they waited.

  Finally the loudspeaker encouraged the patrons to go through to dinner, first in English and then in French, as the waiters checked off names. Kelsie stood with Connor and walked through to the next car and their table.

  Connor beat the waiter to her chair and pulled it out for her, helping her to move it back in when she was seated, and she looked down at the table, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He’d always had such beautiful manners. It had been one of the lovely aspects of spending time with Connor away from home. He’d always treated her like a princess.

  The table was crowded with crystal glasses—four sizes each and all engraved with the VSOE insignia—three sets of silver cutlery, fine china with the crest again and crested doilies under everything to stop any hint of slippage from the motion of the train. She marvelled at the thought of the relaying of the tables for the next sitting.

  Their waiter arrived, carrying Connor’s champagne bucket, and he skilfully topped their glasses despite the sudden jolts. They both smiled at his dexterity.

  Connor broke the silence between them. ‘So my grandmother has been at work again.’ Connor settled back into his chair and smiled. ‘Can you stand another meal with me or would you like me to ask to be moved?’

  ‘Of course not.’ There wasn’t a lot she could do about it now and it could have been a whole lot worse. She might have had to keep the bar fly under control. Instead, she had a handsome man who had once been her lifeline. ‘I’ll be able to handle it for one more meal. I think breakfast is in bed tomorrow morning so I’m safe.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ His mouth curved, smiling and sexy, a deadly combination that encapsulated her in their private joke, and the room seemed suddenly a little too warm again.

  ‘Even your grandmother couldn’t arrange that,’ she said dryly, and he smiled again. She almost wished he wouldn’t do that. It was a devastating smile and if her shoes hadn’t been so tight her toes might have curled.

  He glanced down at the menu and then back at her. ‘So, what are you having?’

  She looked down, scanning the options you could purchase before she looked at the meal that was included, and gasped. ‘I think I’d rather buy a coat at Harrods than a serving of Beluga caviar.’

  He glanced at the price of the optional entrée and winced. ‘We could both buy a coat.’ He grinned at the à la carte menu for those too fussy to have what the chef de cuisine suggested. ‘Shall we have the Christmas dinner menu, then?’

  She nodded vigorously. ‘Indeed. I’ll have the traditional roast turkey with chestnut stuffing and dessert of a classic plum duff with crème Anglaise and brandy butter.’

  ‘Good choice. I’m not a turbot fan myself.’

  She laughed. He was funny. It was easy. They were conversing as if all the tense conversations of the day had been swept away and she could feel the stiffness in her neck begin to subside. The feeling of relief was heady. And he was charming. She might just have to watch that.

  ‘The fellow at the bar was right, you know.’ His gaze rested on her face.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You look very beautiful in that dress. In fact, you’ve looked beautiful all day.’ He wasn’t looking at the dress. He was watching her face and she felt the warmth steal into her cheeks. ‘You look even more beautiful than you did fifteen years ago.’

  Now her cheeks burned and she didn’t know where to look. The obvious place was at him. Dark dinner suit, white shirt and bow-tie. Sardonically suave yet with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Thank you. You look pretty hot yourself.’

&n
bsp; ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ His face became more serious. ‘So why haven’t you married, Kelsie?’

  ‘Why haven’t you?’ she countered.

  He shook his head. ‘That’s a cop-out and I asked you first. I had the impression you were a brave new you. Don’t be shy. I’m sure it’s not because you haven’t found anyone who exceeded my charms.’

  ‘Oh, you’re charming, too, but way too old for me. I’m looking for a younger man now. Like our friend at the bar.’

  She’d been trying to keep it light, not sure they were quite at ease enough to get down to real truth. That it would take someone pretty darned special to make her give up the independence that she’d fought so hard for.

  She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes her mother had made and if she never did get married and have a child at least she wouldn’t walk away from them like her own mother had.

  She was starting to feel more emotional than she wanted to. Here was this gorgeous man, flirting with her, and all she could remember was how she’d left him standing alone on a corner. How worried his face had been. It made her feel bad. And sad.

  ‘So you think I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you?’ His hand reached across the table and he squeezed her fingers, stroked the inside of her wrist, and she shivered. There was that unmistakable frisson of awareness that assured her they still had far too much chemistry happening for her peace of mind.

  His hand moved back away from her and instantly she missed the connection. ‘I’m willing to bet I could.’

  Her fingers tingled. It wasn’t fair that he could do that with just a touch and she’d always thought the whole vibration in auras between a man and a woman had been exaggerated. ‘You seem determined to put a personal spin on all my words but you can never go back.’

  Her mouth was saying things her body didn’t agree with but it seemed appropriate when she wanted to create a distance he was trying to close. Her imagination wasn’t helping with fantasies of finding out just what would happen if she crawled into Connor Black’s lap and kissed him.

  He was watching her face and unfortunately there was nowhere to hide. ‘Today I was thinking about our first kiss.’ His voice dropped and she leaned forward to hear. ‘You were soft, like a kitten.’