by Sarah Morgan
Moody, irritating, insanely hot, but decent.
He could have made an excuse and left her alone. Instead, he’d stayed with her.
“What’s it to be, Sky? Are we spending the next few days in a hotel room or with my family?”
“I can’t just show up at your family’s home and join in a private gathering.” But the alternative was spending a week alone in a hotel room steaming mad about Richard and that was about as appealing as pulling her hair out at the roots. “Your mother won’t want me. I’ll ruin her numbers for the catering and mess up her seating plan.”
“Seating plan?” His brows rose. “People sit wherever there is room. If we run out of chairs, we use the piano stool. My family is very easygoing and my mother never quite knows who is coming until the day. And as for catering, she always cooks enough to feed half the village.”
Skylar tried not to compare that with her own experience of family occasions. Guests were expected to confirm. Last-minute extras were strongly discouraged. “This is your special time with your family and you and I aren’t exactly intimate.”
His eyes gleamed. “You’ve seen me naked and I’ve seen you naked. We’re a lot more intimate than we were this time yesterday. Do you need to go back to the gallery?” He moved around the room with stark efficiency, packing things into one small suitcase.
“No. I can call Judy.” She chose to ignore his comment about having seen her naked. She really didn’t want to think about how she’d ended up naked in a shower with a man who, until yesterday, she’d actively disliked. “Last night was the important bit. Fortunately it was almost over when this happened. She must be wondering what happened to me.”
“She isn’t. I talked to her before we left. She was the one who gave me your bag and coat.”
“What did you say to her?”
“That you weren’t feeling well. She obviously isn’t a fan of public proposals, so you had her sympathy. She told me to tell you that the exhibition was a huge success and to call her when you’re ready.” He gave her a long, searching look. “You’re pale. Still feeling ill?”
“No.” She was careful not to move her head. “But I could use some more of those pills you gave me.”
He walked into the bathroom and returned with the packet and a glass of water. “Take two.”
She swallowed them and drank the water. “About last night—”
“Forget it.”
“I won’t forget it Alec. I’m sorry you had to sleep on the sofa. It looks horribly uncomfortable. Are you aching all over?”
“No, and you need to stop apologizing. It’s starting to irritate me. I’m used to you arguing with me.”
Struck by another wave of dizziness, she closed her eyes. “I’ll start arguing with you as soon as those pills work.”
“You’re not going to look your best in the Christmas photos this year.”
He lifted his hand and smoothed her hair back, taking a closer look at her head. The brush of his fingers sent a rush of tingly heat across her skin.
“My family doesn’t do photos. Christmas is a very formal affair. Everything is scripted and planned.” The thought of Christmas made her want to curl up under the bedcovers and never come out.
He took the glass from her hand. “I need to call my mother and warn her that we’ll be one extra so she can make up the spare room. Then I’m going to find you some clothes. I have a pair of track pants that might do until we can fetch your things. You can roll up the legs and belt the waist.”
She was grateful to him for not pursuing the topic of Christmas.
“Great. If my unique seduction tricks of bleeding on you and throwing up on you haven’t worked, hopefully wearing baggy clothes will nail the deal.”
There was a brief pause and she saw a faint flicker of a smile touch his mouth.
“You’d look good in anything.” With that surprising comment, he walked to the phone by the bed. “I need breakfast before we hit the road.”
She stared at him, the air trapped in her lungs and her tummy doing acrobatics.
He didn’t pay her compliments. Ever. If anything, he went out of his way to make sure she knew she wasn’t his type.
True, there had been the moment in the bathroom, but he was a guy, wasn’t he? It hadn’t meant anything. Healthy, virile, sexually active hot guy meets half-naked girl in the bathroom. It was a moment she’d already forgotten—well, maybe not forgotten exactly, but she certainly wasn’t reading anything into it.
Half an hour later a tray arrived, heaped with fresh fruit, organic yogurt, pastries and scalding-hot coffee.
They ate while watching the sun rise over a frozen winter morning.
She noticed a stack of notes and his laptop on the desk. “Did you work last night?”
“For a while. I wanted to keep an eye on you.”
He’d stayed awake for her? She pulled the corner off a croissant. It flaked in her fingers, buttery and warm. “This is only my second trip to London. I was hoping to see some of the sights before I left.”
“When is your flight? You might still have time for that.”
“A week on Sunday. Then I’ll be back in New York for a couple of weeks before Christmas.”
The croissant was too rich for her stomach so she left the rest and picked at a few berries.
Alec, she noticed, drank lots of coffee.
It felt strange having breakfast with him in his hotel suite, wearing his shirt under a hotel robe. It felt—intimate. If housekeeping had walked in, they would have assumed they were lovers.
“How are we getting to your parents’ house? You have a car here?”
“I hire a car when I’m in London.”
“How long will it take us to get to your home?”
“Around two hours, depending on the weather.”
“You British are obsessed with your weather.”
“When you’ve seen the roads around Honeysuckle Cottage, you’ll understand why.”
He packed up his laptop while she dressed, then picked up the bags of gifts and the rest of his luggage and opened the door to their room.
“Honeysuckle Cottage? Such a cute name.” She walked past him, careful not to brush against him. “By the way, I’m not a drama queen.”
His eyes gleamed. “Fairy princess crossed with drama queen.”
“So what does that make me? A fairy queen or a drama princess?”
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know after we’ve spent a few days together.”
A few days.
Yesterday she’d been getting ready for her exhibition and now here she was with a bruised head and a bruised heart, going home with a man with whom she’d always had a difficult relationship.
Which all went to prove that whenever you were anticipating a happy ending, life was guaranteed to mess it up.
CHAPTER FOUR
THEY CRAWLED OUT of London and gradually the congestion eased and the roads opened up. It was still snowing heavily and Alec knew the country lanes around his parents’ house would be difficult to navigate.
In the seat next to him Skylar slept, her hair a halo of silver-gold around a face almost as pale as the snow.
Concerned by the long silences from someone who usually talked enough for six people, Alec glanced at her from time to time. In daylight the bruising looked worse and her sleepiness worried him. He contemplated calling Michael again, but reassured himself with the knowledge that she’d had a disrupted sleep the night before and was probably just tired.
Maybe her pallor was the result of stress.
He didn’t know what had shocked him most, the absence of any evidence of concern on the part of Richard Everson or the cold, unemotional message from her mother.
He couldn’t help comparing it to those months after the breakdown of his own marriage when his family had been in constant contact. At the time he’d been exasperated by their refusal to leave him alone, but now he felt grateful that they’d cared enough to bother.
Skylar had close friends, but they were far away on Puffin Island.
Here, she was alone.
Alone, except for him, and he knew without her having pointed it out that he was the last person with whom she would have chosen to spend her lowest moment.
He turned off the main road, driving through untouched countryside, past woodland and fields coated in a thick layer of snow.
The closer he got to home, the more uneasy he felt.
What the hell had he done?
The only woman he’d ever brought home was his ex-wife and the memory of how that had played out was permanently embedded in his brain.
Sweat cooled his skin.
He didn’t want to be trapped with Sky. He didn’t want to be trapped with any woman who was emotionally vulnerable.
He wasn’t fooled by her constant quips and cheery humor.
She was hurting and he didn’t want to be within a million miles of a woman who was hurting.
He drove in silence, brooding on the weekend ahead.
Somehow he had to find a way of keeping his distance.
Finally, as he approached the market town near his parents’ house, she woke.
She stirred and turned her head, absorbing her surroundings.
Tiny lights glowed in shop windows, illuminating honey-colored stone. Glossy green wreaths studded with plump red berries decorated the doors and a large Christmas tree dominated the village square.
“It’s the prettiest place I’ve ever seen.” She stifled a yawn. “Where are we?”
“The Cotswolds. We’re about two hours from London. This is the village of Brockburn-on-the-Water. My parents live about five minutes from here, although it might as well be a million miles if they haven’t cleared the road.”
He waited for Skylar to flip down the mirror and start applying makeup but instead she shifted in her seat and gave him her full attention.
“Tell me about your family. What does your father do?”
“He’s a GP. A family doctor. He came over to England straight after medical school, met my mother and never went back. He’s senior partner in the village practice. My mother works in the renal unit in the hospital.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Two sisters. One older, married with twins, the other younger. Olivia is sixteen.”
“Sixteen? That’s a big age gap. I bet you freaked out when you discovered your mom was pregnant.”
“Why would you think that?”
He’d been completely freaked out.
Her insight was unnerving.
“Because when she was born you would have been—what? Sixteen? Seventeen? No teenager wants to be faced with tangible evidence that their parents still have sex. So you’re an uncle and a big brother. I have older brothers, too. They spend the whole time telling me what I should be doing. Are you like that?”
“There would be no point because Liv wouldn’t listen.” He drove down the lane toward his parents’ house, past trees laden with soft snow and fields dotted with animal footprints. The winter sun was low in the sky, sending light shimmering over fields of white.
“So both your parents are in medicine, but you didn’t want to be a doctor?”
“No. When I was five I wanted to be an Arctic explorer. My uncle gave me an explorer’s kit for Christmas and I remember taking it down the garden and camping out in the shed. Took them two hours to find me and by then I’d almost frozen to death.” Mindful of the icy surface, he eased the car round the last bend and turned into his parents’ drive. “We’re here. This is it.”
Honeysuckle Cottage stood as it had for several centuries, its stone walls glowing a soft gold in the sunshine. A large evergreen wreath studded with berries hung in the center of the door and two large bay trees placed on either side of the stone steps sparkled with tiny lights.
“This is your home?” Sky stared at the house. “It’s the most idyllic cottage I’ve ever seen, apart from Brittany’s. It reminds me of the house in that movie The Holiday. You’ve probably never seen it.”
“I’ve seen it. Liv tortured me with it a few years ago. I’m still scarred. My revenge was to force her to sit through a turgid documentary on Napoleon.”
She laughed. “One of yours?”
“I aim for several steps up from turgid.” Before he could even switch off the engine the front door opened and he saw his family crowding into the doorway to welcome them. His mother snatched her apron over her head, evidence that she’d been in the kitchen when she’d heard the car. Behind her was his father with the phone in his hand and next to him his uncle, wearing a pair of flashing reindeer antlers. Alec felt a rush of affection for them and then remembered Sky. He could imagine what she was thinking. “I probably should have warned you that my family loves Christmas. Most of the year they’re relatively sane, but there’s something about this time of year that sends them over the top. Even my father, although for him the mulled wine probably has something to do with it.” He slid out of the car, tense, knowing that this place wasn’t going to suit glitzy Skylar.
His ex-wife had hated the rustic country life his parents led. An invitation to join them for the village pub quiz had been met with disdain and a stony refusal, as had all activities that involved the wearing of sturdy boots. Everything had been wrong. The weather too cold, the people too loud and tactile, the food too full of carbohydrates and fat. The final straw had been the animals. On the last occasion they’d visited, Alec had been forced to shut the dogs out of the house and had felt so guilty looking at their mournful faces he’d made their excuses and left early. He and Selina had separated just days later, after an incident he preferred to forget.
As always, just thinking about her elevated his stress levels.
It didn’t help that he was, once again, accompanied by a woman who looked as if she’d stepped straight out of the pages of a glossy magazine. Even with her bruised face and no makeup, Skylar was stunning.
What had he been thinking?
He shouldn’t have brought her here. His family didn’t deserve another Christmas like the one they’d had three years before. He should have found another way.
He slammed the car door, his mood darkening with each passing second.
No way was he shutting the dogs out this time. If she wanted to avoid them, she could spend time in her room. And her reluctance to get her feet muddy, or her fingers frozen by snow, would give him the opportunity to spend time alone with his family.
He was still working out how to best manage the situation when his sister flew out of the door, her booted feet making indentations in the snow.
She was wearing an oversize sweater with a sparkly star in the middle and her hair tumbled in chocolate-brown waves around her shoulders. “Alec!”
Ignoring Skylar, Alec strode to meet her and caught her in a hug. “Is that the Christmas jumper?”
“Yes, Granny saw a picture in Cosmo and copied it for me. I am the envy of my friends. Karen was given one with a truly gross reindeer. She’s wearing it inside out.” She eased away and he saw her eyes widen as she noticed Skylar. “Oh, my— Who—? She’s— Wow, Alec. How did a geeky guy like you get someone as gorgeous as her?”
Aware that his sister’s whisper was louder than most people’s normal conversational tone, Alec clenched his jaw. “Could you maybe speak a little louder? Embarrass me a little more?”
Grinning, she rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I could probably manage that. Embarrassing you is my favorite pastime.”
“Skylar, this is my sister Olivia.” Anything he might have added was interrupted by barking as the dogs heard his voice and tumbled in an excited frenzy out of the house.
Nelson was first, his glossy black coat a startling contrast against the white of the snow, but close on his heels was Churchill, who hated being left behind.
Cursing under his breath, Alec made a grab for them but they sprang toward Skylar, tails wagging.
Why was it that dogs made a b
eeline for the person least interested in them?
He waited for her to recoil and take refuge in the car, but instead she dropped into a crouch and embraced both dogs, laughing as they licked and jumped all over her with clumsy enthusiasm and a blur of wagging tails.
It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “They’ll ruin your coat.”
She didn’t seem to be listening. Her hands were all over the dogs, and she rubbed Nelson behind his ears until he whined in ecstasy and rolled in the snow.
“When I asked you to tell me about your family, you didn’t mention these beautiful, beautiful dogs.”
“But I hope he mentioned his beautiful, beautiful sister,” Liv said happily, letting go of Alec and joining Sky. “The black Lab belongs to Alec. His name is Nelson. He’s pretty old now but young at heart.”
Hearing his name, Nelson rolled over and shook himself, showering Sky with snow.
“Thank you, I needed that.” Laughing, she wiped snow out of her eyes. “And who is the beautiful chocolate Lab?”
“He’s mine. He’s called Churchill, but we call him Church. He’s only two. We hoped he’d be wise and statesmanlike, but so far it’s not looking good. I’m trying to train him but neither of us is very disciplined so that hasn’t turned out so well.” She dragged him away from Skylar and then saw the damage. Her smile melted into panic. “They’ve made a horrible mess of your lovely coat. I’m so sorry. I’ll have it cleaned.”
Alec tensed, understanding the reason for the stammered apology. Selina had made a song and dance about having her clothes cleaned after the dogs had jumped on her and Liv had taken the brunt of her displeasure.
“I don’t care about the coat.” Sky kissed Nelson on the head and stood up. “It was a stupid color to buy but I was having a low moment and felt like treating myself.”
Alec wondered why she’d been having a low moment. She would have bought the coat before her relationship had crashed and burned, surely?
Livy looked at it longingly. “I’ve always wanted a white coat.”
Sky looked wistfully at the dogs. “I always wanted dogs.” She’d braided her hair into a loose plait and it fell casually over one shoulder. The beam of the sun highlighted shades of wheat and pale gold that almost dazzled in the light. If Alec didn’t already have evidence to the contrary, he would have assumed the color couldn’t be natural.