The Yuletide Engagement & A Yuletide Seduction

by Carole Mortimer

  “No, it is not okay,” she came back, just as determinedly. “I’m taking you out. That means I pay. What do you mean, no?” She frowned as he shook his head.

  “I’ll only agree to go if I take you. Otherwise the deal is off, Ellie,” he added decisively.

  “But this isn’t one of your business deals—” she broke off as she realised she had been the one to say Friday evening was to be treated on a businesslike footing.

  Patrick laughed softly. “Ellie, isn’t the important thing here to show this Gareth that you’re more than capable of attracting a man other than him? Which, of course, you obviously are,” he continued, his grey gaze sweeping over her with slow appreciation.

  Ellie was dressed in one of the suits she wore to work, a fitted black one today, teamed with a blue blouse. Slightly damp from the snow still falling outside!

  Ellie was under no illusions as regarded her looks; at best they could be called pleasant. She was neither fat nor too thin, and her hair—her one good feature as far as she was concerned—was always kept clean and well-styled. Her eyes were a clear blue, her lashes thick and dark, her skin smooth and creamy, but other than that her features were nondescript.

  Which was why, when Gareth had joined the company six months ago—a blond Adonis with warm blue eyes and a charm that drew women to him like bees around honey—Ellie had been completely bowled over by his marked interest in her.

  But she had definitely learnt her lesson where that sort of flattery and attention were concerned, which was why she knew that Patrick McGrath was just being polite now.

  He was watching her with narrowed eyes. “How long is it since the two of you broke up?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” she came back stiffly.

  Patrick shrugged. “I was merely wondering why you don’t already have a new boyfriend.”

  She gave a humourless smile. “Because after my experience with Gareth I have no interest at the moment in finding myself a new boyfriend!”

  “This gets more and more intriguing by the minute,” Patrick murmured interestedly.

  Ellie shot him a reproving look. “Believe me, it really isn’t,” she assured him dismissively.

  “So it’s easier to ask me, a complete stranger, to go to your company dinner with you than it is to complicate matters with a genuine new boyfriend?” Patrick murmured consideringly. “It makes a certain sense, I suppose.” He shrugged.

  Ellie frowned. “It does?” It sounded rather cold and contrived to her, but other than not going to the dinner at all—which was impossible now that Gareth had told her of the pending announcement of his engagement; she simply wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of just not turning up!—she couldn’t see any other way round the problem.

  “It does,” he assured her enigmatically. “Well, as I’ve already said, Ellie, I still have the evening free on Friday.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Then you’ll go to the Delacorte dinner with me?”

  He gave a sudden grin, looking years younger, his grey eyes warm. “I thought you would never ask!”

  She wouldn’t have done ordinarily, and they both knew it. But nothing about this situation was ordinary.

  WHICH was why she was standing here, wearing a revealing red dress and more make-up than she had ever worn before, feeling decidedly like the overdressed Christmas tree that adorned their sitting room—waiting for Patrick McGrath to arrive…

  He was late.

  It was already seven forty-five, and before Ellie had left his office three days ago they had agreed that he would pick her up at seven-thirty, in order for them to drive to the restaurant and arrive a polite ten or fifteen minutes late for pre-dinner drinks. At this rate they would be lucky to arrive in time for the serving of the first course!

  “Is he always this unpunctual?” She frowned at Toby as he cleared away his dinner things, before getting ready to go out himself.

  “He’ll be here, sis,” Toby dismissed assuredly. “But I have to leave now.” He glanced up at the kitchen clock. “I told Tess I would pick her up just after eight,” he added apologetically. He was going to the cinema this evening with his girlfriend of the last two months. “Do you want me to try reaching Patrick on his mobile before I leave? Maybe the car broke down or something.”

  “Do Mercedes break down?” Ellie came back dryly, wondering if she was going to get to “the ball”, after all!

  “Mine doesn’t,” drawled a familiar voice.

  Ellie gasped, spinning round to face Patrick as he stood in the doorway. She was glad she had already gasped—otherwise she would have done so now; he looked absolutely breathtaking in a dinner suit!

  “I wish you wouldn’t keep creeping up on me like that,” she complained, to cover up the confusion she felt at his appearance.

  Was anyone supposed to be this handsome? This suavely sophisticated? This—this breathtaking? There really was no other word for Patrick’s appearance this evening.

  “Will I do?” He arched mocking brows at her as she continued to stare at him.

  Would he do as what? As a more than adequate replacement for Gareth? Certainly. As a means for making every other woman in the room jealous of her good fortune in having him as her partner for the evening? Assuredly. As a calm and soothing balm to her already battered emotions? Definitely not!

  He was a one-evening-only companion—just a shield for what promised to be a very difficult evening for her. He wasn’t supposed to make her pulse flutter, her knees feel weak, her insides as if they were turning to jelly!

  “Ellie is feeling a little—tense this evening, Patrick,” Toby excused her lightly, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair before walking over to the door. “Have a good evening. Want me to wait up for you, Ellie?” he added mischievously, dark brows raised teasingly.

  “No, thank you!” She shot him a reproving look as he ducked out of the doorway, grinning widely as he raised a hand in farewell before disappearing into the darkness.

  “We aren’t going to be late back this evening, are we, Ellie?” Patrick looked down at her mockingly. “Only I’m usually in bed by ten-thirty.”

  Ellie would hazard a guess that the only reason this man would be in bed by ten-thirty at night would be because he wasn’t there alone!

  “You’re late,” she told him sharply, more flustered that she had just had such a thought about Patrick’s nocturnal habits than she actually was by his tardiness.

  “Only a few minutes,” he dismissed unconcernedly. “I stopped along the way to buy you this.”

  “This” was a corsage, a single red rose, newly in bud, made even more beautiful by the melted snowflakes clinging to the dewy petals.

  Ellie blinked hard before looking up at Patrick, hastily looking down again as he returned her gaze with slightly challenging eyes. Bringing her a rose, red or otherwise, was not very businesslike. And they both knew it. But then Patrick had warned her three days ago that he intended doing this his way…

  “Thank you,” she accepted huskily, taking the rose and the pin he held out to her.

  “Would you like me to—?”

  “No! No, thank you.” She tried to refuse his offer of help less abruptly, at the same time giving him a sceptical glance. “I can manage.” And to prove it she attached the rose to her dress at the first try.

  “I thought you might,” he murmured ruefully. “I suppose we should be on our way, then.”

  “I suppose we should,” she echoed dryly, inwardly chiding herself for the fact that she was a little disappointed he hadn’t mentioned her new dress, or anything else about her appearance.

  Not that she had mentioned how gorgeous he looked either; it simply wasn’t in keeping, she accepted, with their arrangement.

  “What a pity,” Patrick murmured as he watched her pull on her long black winter coat. “You look absolutely stunning in that dress; it’s a shame to hide it beneath that coat,” he explained as Ellie looked up at him questioningly.
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  “Thank you.” She felt an inner glow now rather than the outer warmth of the coat.

  “Hmm.” Patrick nodded as they went out to the car, opening the door for her to get in. “Gareth can just eat his heart out,” he added with satisfaction.

  “That’s what Toby said!” She laughed to cover her flushed pleasure at his compliment.

  “And, as we both know, Toby wouldn’t tell you a lie,” he reminded her teasingly.

  No, Toby wouldn’t tell her a lie—at least, not a major one—but she had a feeling this man was more than capable of practising the subtle art of subterfuge if he thought the occasion warranted it. There was a steely edge to Patrick McGrath, a ruthlessness that obviously made him such a success in business.

  But Ellie dismissed both Patrick’s compliments and thoughts of that steely edge as they neared the restaurant where all the other Delacorte, Delacorte and Delacorte staff would already be gathered. No doubt all believing, with the lateness of the hour, that she had decided not to attend after all.

  “Everything is going to be just fine, Ellie.” Patrick reached out in the warm confines of the car and gave her restless hands a reassuring squeeze before returning his own hand to the steering wheel of his Mercedes sports car. “Trust me, hmm?” he encouraged as she glanced at him with troubled eyes.

  She wasn’t sure, after Gareth’s duplicity, that she would ever completely trust another man again. But Patrick wasn’t asking her to trust him in that way…

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever thanked you for agreeing to help me out like this,” she murmured ruefully. Mainly because she had been too embarrassed by her need for him to be here to actually get around to thanking him!

  “I believe you did mention the word gratitude once,” he drawled. “But that was last week—when you were turning me down.”

  Before she’d had to go back and tell him the situation had indeed changed!

  “Ellie, why don’t we wait until the end of the evening and see if you still want to thank me then, hmm?”

  Ellie shot him a sharp look; that sounded a little ominous.

  “Don’t look so worried, Ellie.” He chuckled after a brief glance in her direction. “I promise to be the soul of discretion this evening.”

  “You do?” She eyed him doubtfully.

  After all, what did she really know about this man? Only what Toby had told her. Which, now that she thought about it, really wasn’t much. Maybe Toby could be discreet if he needed to be! At least as far as Patrick McGrath was concerned…

  Thirty-eight. Extremely successful. Single—which was probably all she really needed to know. Except… For all she knew the man might be a terrible flirt, or become terribly loud after a couple of drinks. In which case having him as her escort could prove more of a liability than a plus!

  “Of course, Ellie,” he answered blandly. “I’ll try very hard not to mention to anyone that you occasionally like to sunbathe topless in the back garden—weather permitting!” He grimaced as snow slowly began to fall on the windscreen.

  “You—!” Ellie gasped, feeling the sudden heat in her cheeks as she turned to stare at him. “Patrick—”

  “Ah, here we are,” he informed her lightly, turning the Mercedes into the car park of the restaurant, parking it beside the green Rolls Royce owned by Ellie’s boss before getting out of the car and coming round to open Ellie’s door for her. “Was it something I said?” he prompted innocently as she made no move to get out of the car.

  He knew very well that it was!

  “Come on, Ellie. I’m getting wet out here,” he encouraged briskly.

  Of course he was; the snow was coming down in earnest now. Ellie wrapped her coat around her and pulled up the collar about her neck as they hurried over to the entrance to the restaurant.

  “We’ll leave this here, I think,” Patrick said firmly as they entered the foyer, removing Ellie’s coat and handing it to the receptionist before Ellie even had time to realise what he was doing.

  She suddenly felt self-conscious again as she looked down at the eye-catching red dress. Maybe it was too much. After all, this was only a company Christmas dinner. Instead of looking eye-catching, as she had hoped, was she going to look ridiculously overdressed?

  “Ellie, you look beautiful,” Patrick told her firmly—before his lips came down gently on hers and his arms moved about her waist to mould her body against the hardness of his.

  The kiss was so unexpected that Ellie responded, her lips parting beneath his even as her arms moved up about his shoulders.

  She totally forgot where they were, why they were there—who she was, even—as those warmly sensual lips continued to explore the softness of her own. The tip of Patrick’s tongue was now moving erotically against her lower lip, turning her body to liquid fire, her legs to jelly.

  His eyes were dark with query as he finally lifted his head to look into the flushed beauty of her face. “Better.” He nodded, his thumb running lightly across her slightly swollen lips. “Now you actually look like a woman out for the evening with her lover!” he added with satisfaction.

  Of course. That was the reason Patrick had kissed her. The only reason.

  “Perhaps next time you could give me some warning of what you’re about to do,” she bit out abruptly, covering her confusion—and her blushes!—by opening her evening bag and searching through its contents. “Lipstick,” she told him abruptly, and held out a tissue for him to wipe his mouth.

  “You do it,” Patrick encouraged huskily. “I can’t see what I’m doing,” he reasoned before she protested.

  She swallowed hard, willing her heart to stop pounding, her hand not to shake as she reached up to wipe the smears of lipstick that he now had on his mouth.

  So engrossed was she in not betraying how shaken she felt that she didn’t even see the man walking past, a dark scowl on his handsome features as he stopped to stare at the two of them.

  “Ellie…?” he questioned uncertainly—as if he couldn’t quite believe the woman in the red dress, a woman who had obviously just been very thoroughly kissed, was actually her.

  She stiffened before looking at him. “Gareth,” she greeted him distantly, feeling rather than seeing Patrick as he moved to stand beside her, his arm curving possessively about her waist. She glanced up at him, a shiver running down her spine as she saw the narrow-eyed look he was giving the younger man. “Patrick, this is a work colleague—Gareth Davies,” she dismissed with deliberate lightness, glad of that lightness as she saw Gareth’s scowl deepen. “Gareth—Patrick McGrath,” she added economically, still too shaken by that kiss to think how to describe him to the other man. “The Patrick McGrath?” Gareth questioned abruptly as he looked frowningly at the other man.

  Patrick smiled—a smile that didn’t reach the cold grey of his eyes. “I very much doubt there’s only one Patrick McGrath in the world,” he answered the other man tauntingly.

  “We really should be going in, Patrick,” Ellie put in determinedly as she saw the light of challenge that had now appeared in both men’s eyes. “If you’ll excuse us, Gareth?” she added dismissively, not giving him a second glance as she turned and walked in the direction of the main restaurant, Patrick at her side, his arm still firmly about her waist.

  Not quite the way she had envisaged the evening beginning!

  But then she hadn’t expected Patrick to kiss her either…

  Why on earth had he kissed her? Just for effect, as his words afterwards had seemed to imply? Well, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the effect his unexpected behaviour had had on her!

  She could still feel the sensuous touch of his lips against hers, still feel the hardness of his body as she moulded perfectly against him, the warmth that had coursed through her, that totally not-knowing-where-she-was-and-not-caring-either feeling.

  As for Gareth! Amazingly, she had felt absolutely nothing as she’d looked at him just now. Except perhaps a vague disbelief that she had ever been taken in by his overt good lo
oks and charm…

  What did it all mean…?

  But as they walked into the restaurant and Patrick was greeted effusively by her boss, George Delacorte, Senior Partner at Delacorte, Delacorte and Delacorte, Ellie knew she would have to get back to that particularly puzzling question later!

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I HAD no idea you were going to be here with Ellie this evening, Patrick.” The older man greeted him warmly and the two men shook hands. George Delacorte was a tall, distinguished-looking man with iron-grey hair and twinkling brown eyes that belied the shrewd trial lawyer he actually was. “You should have told me, Ellie,” he chided teasingly.

  Told him what? Until a few seconds ago she hadn’t even known that he and Patrick were acquainted! Patrick certainly hadn’t mentioned that he knew the older man.

  “How are Anne and Thomas?” George smiled.

  “Very well, thank you, sir,” Patrick replied smoothly, his arm still lightly about Ellie’s waist, almost as if he weren’t aware that she was staring up at him in amazement.

  Why hadn’t he told her he knew George Delacorte? It was obvious from the easy way he was talking with the older man that Patrick had been perfectly well aware that he would be seeing the other man this evening! In fact, she knew that he had; she had told him herself that it was the Delacorte Christmas dinner!

  “And Teresa?” the older man continued lightly. “Breaking hearts, as usual?”

  Patrick shrugged. “I think she might finally have met ‘the one’,” he answered indulgently.

  “Good for her.” George chuckled.

  Who on earth were Anne and Thomas—let alone Teresa? Ellie realised she really should have asked Patrick for a few more personal details. And maybe she would have done if she had known they would be relevant to this evening!

  “I must just go and tell Mary you’re here; she’ll be so pleased to see you,” George said happily. “Sarah is here too—somewhere.” He frowned. “You’re coming to the family party tomorrow?” he prompted abruptly.