Except since they’d rarely ever done that when they were kids, it seemed unlikely they were going to start now. Not when they were each busy in their own private rooms, preparing for the party ahead.
‘That’s not the problem,’ he said, curtly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a list of tasks to finish before Mum comes down—’ Damon tried to move towards the door, but Celeste swung her long legs up to rest on the counter opposite, blocking his way out of the narrow galley kitchen.
‘In that case, that only leaves option three.’
‘Which is?’ he asked impatiently, even though he didn’t really want to know.
‘That you don’t want to end it at all. That you’ve fallen for her. Properly.’ There was a hint of awe in Celeste’s voice at the very possibility.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, even though his heart was beating too fast at her words.
‘I don’t think it’s ridiculous. I mean, Rachel is far too good for you, but other than that—’
He pushed her legs out of the way and stepped through. As if he didn’t already know that. ‘Unless you and Theo are going to come clean tonight that your whole relationship is a lie—or announce that you’re actually madly in love and planning the wedding—please stop lecturing me about my situation with Rachel, okay?’
She bristled at the mention of Theo, just as he’d known she would, and he escaped without further comment from her. Their whole lives, the easiest way to distract Celeste had always been to bring up her own shortcomings.
It made a change from thinking about his anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHRISTMAS EVE. HOW was it Christmas Eve already?
The last week had seemed to go both too fast and too slow for Rachel. Every day was so busy, between the opening of the arcade, her shifts at Hartbury’s, and spending her evenings and mornings with Damon, the time had flown by. Counting down to the moment her life went back to normal, the way it had been before Damon Hunter had swept her onto a dance floor at fake midnight and kissed her.
And yet, at the same time…every moment she’d spent with Damon had seemed to last longer. Maybe because she was so determined to remember every last second. Or perhaps just because she could already feel the distance growing between them.
Now, as she finished up her last shift at Hartbury’s before it closed for Christmas, she wondered how, exactly, she’d be able to go back to that old life. She wasn’t the person she’d been then. How could she be, when she’d lived a whole life’s worth of missed romance and seduction in less than a month?
The bell had rung to announce closing time almost fifteen minutes earlier and the children’s-wear floor she was covering that afternoon was empty. Time to get ready for Damon and Celeste’s parents’ party—and to say goodbye to her festive fling for good. Just until Christmas, that was what they’d decided—what she’d insisted on. And now Christmas was here.
At least she was going to see it out in style. Grabbing the bag she’d brought from her little closet office, she headed for the changing rooms to get ready for the party. It didn’t take long to wriggle into the silky, wine-red dress she’d chosen from Jasmine’s collection, although she decided to save the high heels until she’d found a taxi, just in case. Her dark curls didn’t need much more than a fluff—they were going to do whatever they wanted anyway so she might as well just let them get on with it.
She was halfway through putting her make-up on when she realised she was no longer alone.
‘Another party, Rachie?’ Gretchen asked. Rachel spun to find both her stepsisters watching her from the doorway to the fitting room. ‘You’re getting to be quite the party animal, aren’t you?’
‘Compared to who?’ Rachel asked, without thinking. But really, she’d been to two parties that month, and one of those was the shop one.
Maisie’s smile twisted a little, making her beautiful face a little uglier. ‘We’re just worried about you, Rachie. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you staying out until all hours—or worse, not coming home at all.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me,’ Rachel said, stiffly. How could she have believed they wouldn’t notice? Of course they would. Mostly to give them ammunition to cause trouble for her later.
‘But we do! You’re our sister after all.’ Gretchen swept into the changing room, casting an eye over Rachel’s outfit. Rachel fought the urge to scream stepsister at her.
‘It’s Damon, isn’t it?’ Maisie followed her sister, as always, until between them they were almost surrounding her, blocking her between the mirrored walls and themselves. ‘You’re falling for him.’
‘And that worries us too,’ Gretchen added. ‘You’re so naive when it comes to love, Rachie.’
‘Remember Tobias?’ Maisie added, as if Rachel were ever likely to forget that particularly humiliating episode.
‘We just don’t want something like that to happen to you again, is all.’ Gretchen reached out to touch the silky fabric of her dress and Rachel flinched away. ‘I mean, dressing up to try and impress him? It’s just not you, Rachel.’
‘You know he’s using you, right?’ Maisie said, bluntly. ‘I mean, why else would he be interested? He’s got you working over at that arcade everyone’s talking about, hasn’t he? I’ve seen the social media campaign.’
‘Luckily for you, I don’t think Mum has.’ Gretchen raised an eyebrow as she spoke. ‘And of course we wouldn’t show her.’
Yes, you would, Rachel thought. Why haven’t you?
Maisie shot an irritated look at her sister. That was unusual too; they were always so in sync.
‘The point is, now the place is open he won’t need you any more, Rachel. And we don’t want you going out there embarrassing yourself again, like before.’ Maisie’s gaze was wide and guileless and Rachel didn’t buy it for a minute.
Unwilling to look either of them in the eye a moment longer, Rachel found herself staring at her own reflection, along with her stepsisters’. The two of them loomed over her in their heels, their immaculate outfits, hair and make-up as intimidating to her as always.
For just a second, she let it get to her.
Were they right? Had the festive fling just been a convenient way to keep her onside while they worked on the project?
Just colleagues who sleep together.
No. She knew it was more than that because she’d seen the passion in Damon’s eyes when he watched her, felt his need for her in his touch. She’d laughed with him, talked with him, relaxed with him—and felt more herself than she had done in years, just from being in his presence.
With Damon, she’d found the courage to ask for what she needed—and now she hoped she’d continue to have that strength without him.
Because Gretchen and Maisie were right about one thing. After tonight, it was all over between them.
Unless it isn’t.
The possibility welled up in her too fast, too strong for her fear to stamp it down.
Because she knew Damon wasn’t giving up on them for any of the reasons her stepsisters were suggesting. Their fling was ending because that was what she’d asked for. And if she wanted something different now…
Well. She had to ask for that too.
He might say no.
She felt the truth settle in her heart, and knew there was a very good chance he would. Damon Hunter didn’t settle down, didn’t choose one path if it closed off all the others. He liked to keep his options open and what she wanted from him was the opposite of that.
She didn’t want a festive fling.
She wanted Damon forever. Hers.
Which meant she had to tell him that. Tonight.
Spinning around, she grabbed her bag and figured she’d sort out her make-up in the taxi using her phone camera.
‘Where are you going?’ Gretchen called after her.
&n
bsp; ‘Didn’t you listen to anything we said?’ Maisie yelled.
Rachel turned and walked backwards for a few steps as she replied, glad she hadn’t put her heels on yet.
‘I listened,’ she said. ‘And I know you’re wrong. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find my own life, for a change.’
Then she turned her back on them and headed for the doors.
* * *
His mother was complaining about something but Damon had tuned her out minutes ago. Or years ago, perhaps. All he knew was that there was something wrong with the ice—inexplicably, since surely ice was ice?—that Celeste was still glaring at him across the room, and that his father was deep in conversation with Theo Montgomery. Or, more accurately, his father was talking, at length, and Theo was listening politely.
Oh, and Rachel wasn’t there yet. He was definitely aware of that.
‘And I don’t know what your father is finding to talk to That Man about,’ his mother said as Damon tuned back in.
‘I think That Man is just a convenient audience for Dad to practise his latest lecture.’ Theo Montgomery had gone down about as badly as expected as a boyfriend for Celeste. It wasn’t as though she’d brought many home before now, but Theo was definitely at the bottom of the list. He didn’t even have a PhD.
His mother sniffed. ‘I don’t know what happened to that nice boy from the Philosophy department.’
‘I think you and Dad scared him off after his first Sunday dinner,’ Damon said mildly, safe in the knowledge that his mother wasn’t listening to him anyway.
‘At least he knew what he wanted, knew what mattered to him.’ His mother gave him a sideways look. ‘Which is more than we can say for some people.’
Yes, yes. Because he was hopelessly uncommitted. His parents’ motto was practically, If you don’t know what matters to you, then you don’t matter at all. He was used to not mattering. It didn’t bother him any more.
Where was Rachel? Tonight was the last night of their festive fling; that was the deal. And he didn’t want to miss a moment of it. So where was she?
He scanned the room again in case he’d missed her, although he couldn’t see how that was possible. But he did realise suddenly that his sister was missing. Which meant…
Turning his back on his mother—not that she noticed—he focussed on the door that led in from the main hallway to the living room and dining room, which had all been opened up for the party. Any moment now…
There.
Even though he’d been preparing himself for it all day, the sight of Rachel in that wine-red dress still took his breath away. Her hand tucked through Celeste’s arm, she entered the room smiling and he could sense the other guests turning to look at her. Even with the dress she still looked just like the same Rachel he’d known for so long, her curls rioting around her head, her make-up minimal, her figure gorgeously curvaceous. But there was something new about her too. And that was what was making everyone stare, where before they might have overlooked her.
Damon wasn’t conceited enough to believe that the difference was him, but it was visible. As she walked towards him, it clicked.
It was her confidence.
She wasn’t looking at the ground, avoiding everyone’s gaze. She wasn’t clinging to the walls hoping no one noticed she was there, hoping no one asked her anything.
She had her head held high, a secret smile around her mouth—the smile of a woman who knew what she wanted and intended to get it. And she was heading straight for him.
Suddenly, the pain in his chest wasn’t from lack of breath. It was pangs of fear. Because he knew that look; he’d seen it before on other women’s faces. That was the smile of a woman who thought she had him where she wanted him. Who thought he couldn’t possibly let her down now.
He’d let them all down, every one of them. Starting with his parents, then his sister, then every woman he’d ever dated, he’d let down every single person who’d ever looked at him that way. With expectation. Because that was what he did.
And as much as he might hate himself for it, he knew he was going to do the same thing to Rachel. Because that was just who he was. Damon Hunter, commitment-phobe, flake, unreliable guy.
Why on earth had he thought he could be anything different, even for a moment? That he could get out of this festive fling with everyone’s heart and pride intact?
You don’t want to end it at all. You’ve fallen for her. Properly.
Those weren’t his words, weren’t his thoughts. They were Celeste’s. And if he’d never listened to his sister before, he wasn’t going to start now.
He and Rachel had made an agreement: a festive fling. And he was sticking to it. That was all there was to it.
Maybe his decision showed on his face because as he straightened his spine and tried to smile, Rachel stumbled, just a little. Celeste caught her arm and he saw Rachel murmur something to her. His sister nodded then, Rachel steady again, and peeled off to head towards Theo. Damon stopped paying her any attention at that point.
He couldn’t see anything but Rachel. And how everything good in his life was about to blow up in his face.
* * *
Oh, goodness, she wasn’t sure if she could do this. Just the look on Damon’s face as he watched her…he knew what was coming, she could tell. He was figuring out how to let her down gently.
Because what she was about to do wasn’t what they’d agreed. It wasn’t fair. And she was going to do it anyway, because it was a hell of a lot more honest and important than any agreement about a festive fling.
‘You okay?’ Celeste murmured as Rachel slipped, one of her high heels skidding on the Hunters’ parquet flooring.
‘No.’ She grabbed onto Celeste a little tighter while she found her balance. ‘But I will be.’
‘Do you want me to come with you to talk to him?’
Because of course Celeste knew what she was going to say. She was transparent. The moment Celeste had opened the door she’d taken one look at her and said, ‘Oh, my God, you’re in love with my brother.’
That was what happened when you only had one good friend your entire adult life. They could tell everything.
‘No,’ Rachel told her now. ‘I need to do this alone.’
‘You’re sure?’
Rachel looked again at Damon. He looked as if he was steeling himself for a horrible scene. Maybe he was. She’d never had this kind of conversation before. Never had this kind of confidence before. She didn’t know how it was going to go.
But she still wasn’t strong enough to do this with too much of an audience.
‘Sure. Besides, I need you to do something else for me.’
‘Anything,’ Celeste said.
‘Distract the rest of the room?’ The party wasn’t so big that the small crowd would be able to ignore any argument between her and Damon. Apparently the Hunters’ idea of a party was more like everyone else’s idea of having a few friends round. Or maybe they just didn’t have that many friends. ‘Just while I get Damon out of here. I don’t want an audience for this.’
Celeste shot her a crooked smile. ‘On it.’
Rachel took another breath and continued on towards her doom.
Damon smiled as she reached him, obviously hoping he could pretend there was nothing unusual going on here.
‘Hey, you look beautiful,’ he said. ‘Can I get you a drink? Or there are some nibbles over here—’
‘Damon.’ Her voice didn’t even sound like her own. It had authority. Confidence. Surety. All the things she’d never had before in her life…before him.
And now, because of them, she was going to lose him. She could see it in the desperate gleam in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as she said his name.
He didn’t want her to do this any more than she wanted to do it. But because of him, because of all
that she’d learned about herself in the time they’d spent together, she had to.
‘I bought you something,’ he said, desperately. Fishing something out of his pocket, he held it out in the palm of his hand.
Rachel stared at it. A small felt mouse in a perfectly fitted red jacket holding a carol sheet in front of him.
She loved it. But she didn’t take it. Not yet.
‘We need to talk,’ she said, instead.
‘I know.’ She heard defeat in his voice as his fist closed around the poor mouse. ‘Come on.’
She followed him into the kitchen, aware that there was some sort of commotion drawing attention behind them, but unwilling to take her eyes off Damon for a second to find out what it was. Theo and Celeste, she imagined. And actually, she didn’t want to imagine that any more than she had to.
The kitchen, at least, was quiet, cool and drama free. She’d expected they’d stop there, but Damon kept walking, all the way to the back door, which he opened and drew her out into the bitter December night. She shivered as she followed him across the grass to where a small swing seat hung from a tree at the end of the long, narrow garden. Shrugging off his jacket, Damon wrapped it around her shoulders, then motioned for her to sit.
‘Tonight’s the last night of our festive fling,’ he said wistfully as he sat beside her. And for a moment, Rachel felt a spark of hope deep inside her. Then he flashed her a quick smile and added, ‘We made the most of it, didn’t we?’
Yes. So much so that I fell head over heels in love with you.
He was trying to take control of the conversation, talking over the spaces where she would have spoken, the way her family had done all her life. The way he never had before.
He’s scared, she realised. But why? What could he have to be scared of? The worst that could happen was that Celeste would be cross with him for breaking her heart. If he felt nothing for her beyond their fling, what was there to be scared of?
Unless he was scared because he did feel something, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
Harlequin Romance December 2020 Box Set Page 32