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WARM WINTER KISSES a feel good Christmas romance novel

Page 16

by STEEPLES, JILL


  I felt a flame of colour tinge my cheeks. This was my territory, not his. I wouldn’t let him bully me.

  ‘I left you a note. All work related matters have been dealt with. You said yourself that my contract ends in a couple of days anyway. I didn’t think you’d mind me leaving a little earlier.’

  ‘Didn’t you? Well, I do actually. I mind very much.’

  I turned away from the intensity of his gaze.

  For a man who was newly engaged he didn’t look very happy; in fact he looked downright miserable. What was he doing here, worrying about a secretary who’d just walked out on her job, when he’d just made a commitment to the love of his life? These were questions I was longing to find answers to. But if he was waiting for me to pass on my congratulations then he would be in for a very long wait indeed. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  ‘Well, I’m sure if you’re that desperate the agency will be able to find you a replacement for the next few days,’ I suggested, as I picked up the paint tin and proceeded to pour some into the tray.

  ‘But I don’t want a replacement.’ He crept up quietly behind me and whispered in my ear. ‘I want you.’ His strong arms encircled me. God, he was an expert in the art of seduction. His lips found the crease of my neck and his touch sent a wave of pleasure spiralling through my body.

  Damn my treacherous body. Damn him. The bastard! I knew his game. He thought he could have his cake and eat it too. Didn’t he realise that his newly found status would change everything between us.

  ‘Get off!’ I thrust my elbow backwards catching Rocco hard in the solar plexus.

  ‘Bloody hell! He stumbled backwards clutching his chest. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Because I hate you, that’s why! Now get out, will you! I don’t want to see you or your rotten job ever again!’

  Chapter 22

  Of course I should have known Rocco would do nothing of the sort. When did he ever do anything he didn’t want to do? Infuriatingly, instead of leaving as I’d ordered him to, he wandered out into my kitchen and made himself at home. The arrogance of the man. I heard him filling the kettle, opening cupboards, pulling mugs out and dropping teabags in. Tears of fury were brimming in my eyes, but I didn’t dare go out and confront him, as I knew I was fit to burst at any moment.

  ‘There you go,’ he said a few minutes later, offering me a mug of tea in exchange for the dripping paint brush I held in my hand. ‘If you want my advice, it’s too soon for another coat. Best leave it to the morning, I reckon. You could probably do with this instead.’ He gestured towards the mug. Patronising sod, I thought, growling inwardly. Not only was he an expert chef, he was also professing to be an expert decorator now. I sat down dejectedly on an upturned crate.

  ‘Well,’ he said, smiling, ‘call me sensitive, but I get the distinct impression that I may have done something to upset you.’ Rubbing his chest exaggeratedly, as if I’d actually inflicted some bodily damage, he tilted his head to the side, chewing on the inside of his lip. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is?’

  Drawing on the single shred of dignity I’d managed to cling onto, I turned to face him and flashed him my bravest smile.

  ‘You haven’t upset me at all, Rocco. Ours was a professional working relationship and it came to its natural end. That’s all.’ I diverted my gaze into my tea.

  ‘And you don’t think there’s some unfinished business we need to address?’ His voice was heavy with intent. I looked up and into his eyes, disregarding the obvious suggestion and the soaring charge of my heart.

  ‘No.’ I paused, steadying my nerves. ‘Now if there’s nothing else, it really is very late. I have work to be getting on with.’ Well, it sounded as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be decorating in the early hours of the morning.

  He tried to hide his smile. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Beth. Okay, so I can maybe understand you want to put a bit of distance between us . . .’ His brow furrowed. ‘Hell, no! I can’t understand that at all. The other night I overstepped the line and well, if that upset you so much, I’m sorry about it.’ He paced towards the window, looking out into a dark winter’s sky. Spinning round, his face matched the gloom of outside. ‘But I don’t see why that should change our working relationship. I thought you liked working for me. I’d hoped you’d want to stay on, that we could have . . .’ He sighed heavily, thrusting his hands into his pockets. ‘Did I tell you? The new restaurant franchise looks to be a goer. We’re still pretty much at the discussion stage, but come the New Year, that’s going to be moving forward. I was hoping you’d want to stay on to work with me on that project.’ He ran his fingers through his hair, making it look even messier if that was possible. Brushed or uncombed, it always looked the same, wild, unkempt, reminding me of a schoolboy who’d just done ninety minutes on a pitch. With his imposing presence and dark looks, it was a deadly mix.

  ‘Then there’s the wedding.’ He shook his head in exasperation, looking at me sheepishly. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Beth, please! I don’t know what possessed me, but you know Pandora, she can be very persuasive when she wants to be. To be honest with you, I could do without all that aggravation, but you, you’d be perfect at organising everything and, more importantly, keeping Pandora sweet.’

  I gasped. The cheek of the man! I wasn’t certain if my mouth was gaping open or if my eyes were about to pop out from head, but I knew if that paintbrush had been a gun I’d have picked it up and shot him with it.

  ‘You’re disappointed with me?’ Trying to keep my voice even, I pulled myself up to my full five foot seven, but beside Rocco’s towering frame I still felt tiny and insignificant. ‘Well, I’ll tell you something. I’m disappointed with myself too. I should never have let myself been taken in by you.’ I turned my back on him, shaking my head, not trusting myself to say anything more.

  ‘Really?’ His hands on my shoulders turned me round to face him, his hand reaching out for my face. ‘I don’t understand you at all, Beth. That wasn’t how it seemed a few nights ago. Are you telling me you didn’t feel what I felt? That you didn’t want much more than just a kiss?’

  I sighed inwardly, remembering that magical moment. I’d been the most yielding and compliant of partners. There was no denying that. And he’d been the most skilful of snoggers.

  ‘No,’ I said, turning away again, rejecting his touch, feeling my insides burning. ‘I mean at the time it seemed okay, but it wasn’t okay, was it? It was wrong and . . .’ A defeated sigh escaped from my lips. ‘Oh God, I’m not sure what I mean really. Anyway, it’s over now, all in the past and that’s where I want to keep it.’

  ‘Right, well, I can’t pretend to understand your reasoning or, given what you were telling everyone only a matter of weeks ago, that you actually mean what you’re saying, but couldn’t you put your personal feelings aside and come back and work for me? To hell with what’s going on between us, I need you as my personal assistant.’

  ‘Oh yes, I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you, Rocco? You could have the best of both worlds without any . . .’ I stopped mid-flow, looking across at his handsome face, my mind churning over his words. What was he going on about? ‘What do you mean, what I was telling everyone a few weeks ago?’

  ‘Forget it,’ he said, dismissing me with his hand.

  ‘No, I won’t forget it. You made an accusation and I’d like to know what you mean exactly.’ I paced up and down the living room, scooped up the paint brush and brandished it in the air with intent.

  ‘You would, would you?’ He folded his arms across his chest, his eyebrows raised questioningly. ‘Well, let me think. If I remember correctly, you told the doctor who examined you after the fall that, and I quote, “don’t tell anyone, but I’ve fallen head over heels in love with Rocco, he’s the man of my dreams.” And to Zak, who visited you shortly afterwards, “that you’d met the man you were going to marry and that was your delectable, delicious boss.” A smug smile settled on his lips. ‘I
have to say I was very flattered, even if you were slightly crazed at the time.’

  ‘No, stop it,’ I gasped, ‘you’re making it up.’ But as I protested I had a horrible inclination that it was a very near approximation of the truth. ‘They didn’t tell you that, surely?’

  ‘They didn’t need to, Beth. I was in the room when you professed your undying love.’

  ‘Oh God!’ My skin flushed pink. ‘Yes, but I was ill, obviously. Not thinking straight. Delirious even.’

  ‘Ah, that would be it, I suppose.’ He made a fist, examining his fingernails. ‘So what you said about being in love with me was just the ranting of a mad woman?’

  ‘Yes,’ I stuttered, wondering if there was any way I could recover the situation. I might have been in love with him, but that didn’t mean I was going to hang around to be his fancy piece while he betrothed himself to another.

  ‘I see. And what about that night after the filming on the boat? You virtually threw yourself at me.’

  ‘I did not!’ I protested, knowing it was futile. I’d done exactly that. He knew it and so did I. I’d been an easy conquest and now he was enjoying making me squirm. ‘I was drunk, you know that. It didn’t mean anything.’

  He walked over to the doorway, his face registering displeasure.

  ‘Mad? Drunk? It isn’t easy to know where I stand with you, Beth. I thought . . . Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Obviously you want me out of your life, so I’m wasting my time here.’ He turned to leave. ‘Oh,’ he said, reaching inside the back pocket of his jeans. Pulling out a gold embossed envelope, he handed it to me. ‘An invitation to the engagement party, if you’re interested.’

  Huh, I’d rather walk over hot coals, I felt like spitting at him. Instead, I took it off him, ungraciously, my eyes refusing to look at it and threw it casually on the heap of unopened post on the floor.

  ‘Well, goodbye then.’ My voice gave only a hint of a quiver.

  ‘Goodbye, Beth,’ he said, and his eyes glinting hard and cold drew a feeling of regret from me. ‘Just one other thing . . .’ His gaze travelled around the room at my handiwork, a look of disdain upon his face. ‘You want my honest opinion? Your taste in paint finishes? It sucks. If I were you, I’d start all over again.’

  Chapter 23

  Huh, so we’d agreed on one thing. I would be starting all over again. Well, it was good riddance to him and to his job, to Martin, to my old life coloured in hessian sack and hello to a new life painted buttercup yellow. Sunny side up and all of that. Humph, I’d show them all. Really, I would.

  In truth though, I couldn’t think much beyond my new walls. Grotty though they were. I looked around and sighed, reluctantly admitting that maybe it was something else I’d have to agree with Rocco on. The new colour scheme would take some getting used to.

  When he’d left, I ran across to the window and watched as his distinctive figure strode down the road, kidding myself that the slump to his shoulders was a match for my own feelings of dejection. But then if he was feeling pissed off it was only because he’d lost someone who made life easier for him. For me, I realised I’d just watched the man I loved, probably the only man I would ever love, walk out of my life.

  I wished I’d told him.

  I span round, picked up the paintbrush and threw it down on the ground, watching the paint drops splatter up the walls. I’d had enough of stupid painting for one day. The second coat would have to wait until later.

  I crawled into bed, banishing all thoughts of Rocco and Pandora and managed a few hours’ sleep. It was only when I’d woken up later that morning and contemplated starting on the next coat of paint for the walls, quickly dismissing the idea in favour of a cup of tea, a bacon sandwich and then a shower, that I remembered the discarded envelope Rocco had handed me the previous night.

  I hadn’t wanted to open it then, not in front of Rocco and I wasn’t certain I really wanted to be confronted with that awful truth now, not especially, but like a child stumbling upon their hidden Christmas presents, I couldn’t help myself taking a tiny peep. I tore open the heavyweight paper and pulled out the card.

  “You are invited . . . engagement party . . . Pandora . . . on 31 December at The Rectory, Mettlesham.” That was strange, I thought, the card hanging loosely in my fingers. They were having the party at Zak’s country retreat and on New Year’s Eve too. A double cause for celebration. As tears pricked the backs of my eyes, I gasped aloud.

  ‘Oh my God!’ I held the card up in front of my face, my eyes greedily scanning the words. It couldn’t be! I was imagining it. I read the words aloud.

  “You are invited to the engagement party of Zak and Pandora”.

  ‘Zak and Pandora,’ I repeated to make sure. ‘Zak and Pandora!’ I shouted to the newly daubed walls. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.’ I danced on my toes on the spot.

  ‘Zak and Pandora!’ I screeched.

  It couldn’t be a typo, I told myself. I mean they wouldn’t make an error of that magnitude, surely. No. There was only one conclusion to draw. As amazing as it seemed, Pandora was getting engaged to Zak. Not to Rocco. Oh my God!

  Scrabbling across the floor on my hands and knees, my heart beating wilding, I grabbed my mobile from the side. I punched at the buttons.

  ‘Hi, Beth,’ Lexi sounded nicely chilled. ‘Did you manage to get any sleep last night? Some mad woman called me in the middle of the night.’ Her voice was heavy with irony, but deliberately ignoring her tone, I rattled on.

  ‘Lexi, you will never believe what’s happened. I have the most amazing news. You’ll never guess in a hundred years!’

  ‘Oh right, so you wouldn’t be talking about Pandora and Zak’s engagement, I suppose?’ A huge yawn resounded in my ear.

  I gasped, feeling the air deflate from my lungs.

  ‘You know,’ I stuttered. ‘But how? Did Rocco tell you?’

  Lexi snorted. ‘God, Beth, what planet have you been on? You’ve obviously not seen the papers today. It’s all across the front pages.’

  ‘It is? Oh my goodness. That’s the most amazing news,’ I said, unable to stop the huge grin from spreading across my face. ‘That’s just wonderful.’

  ‘And Rocco didn’t tell you this himself?’ Lexi asked.

  I sighed, thinking back to our last tortuous conversation. Had Rocco been trying to tell me something, I wondered? He’d been asking me to come back to work for him, that much was certain. An image of Rocco’s face imploring me to return flashed into my mind. No he hadn’t, I realised with a jolt, he’d been begging me, not asking. And I, stupid, stupid woman that I was, had coldly rebuffed him. There’d been something else in his eyes too, something I’d dismissed as the lustful longings of a highly-sexed man, but thinking about it now, could it have meant something else entirely?

  ‘Well,’ I stumbled on, ‘he did come round last night. He wanted me to go back with him . . .’ My voice trailed away as I tried to recall the details of our conversation.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Aargh.’ I sank to my knees on the floor. ‘I told him I hated him. That he could stick his poxy job. That I never wanted to see him again.’

  ‘Hmmm, I see. So you think he got the message, then?’ Lexi sniggered in disbelief. ‘But you’re madly in love with him, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I gulped, realising at that moment that I did love him with all my heart. But would he ever forgive me for getting everything quite so wrong?

  ‘And does he feel the same way about you?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ I said, a small spark of hope stirring in my tummy. ‘I think he probably fancies me.’

  ‘Well, that’s a start,’ Lexi said, laughing. ‘If I were you, I’d get my arse back down there straight away.’

  * * *

  Throwing my unwashed clothes back into the case and grabbing a few more clean ones from my drawers, I hurriedly stashed as much as I could into the battered holdall. As I was about to leave I looked around the living room at the complet
e mess I’d managed to make in less than twenty-four hours. A new career in interior design wasn’t beckoning, I realised with a smile, but the clear up, which would need to be a mammoth one now, would have to wait until some other time.

  I locked up and bumped my case down the stairs, running into my neighbour Bob from the flat upstairs at the main door.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ he beamed. ‘Haven’t seen you in a while. How you doing?’

  ‘Hi, Bob.’ For some reason, I seemed to have acquired a permanent grin. I dropped my case to my feet. ‘I’ve been working away. Just came back to collect a few things and check on the flat, see it’s still here.’ And have a half-hearted bash at decorating in the middle of the night like you do. I sighed. ‘Now I’m off again.’

  ‘No rest for the wicked, eh?’ He laughed and dug me in the ribs with his elbow. ‘Well, you be careful out there. It’s a madhouse on the roads and there’ll be a heavy covering of snow before the afternoon’s out.’

  I looked at him askance, unable to hide my disbelief.

  ‘Don’t you read the papers?’ he said, shaking his head, as I suddenly realised there might be yet another piece of vital news I’d missed out on. ‘Just look at that sky.’ He pulled back the heavy door and a blast of crisp, fresh wintery air swept into the lobby. The sky was weighted in grey. ‘We’re in for a white Christmas, you mark my words.’

  I smiled, thinking Bob had already had a little too much of the Christmas spirit, but I felt an overwhelming surge of affection for this man, who I didn’t really know but who had been a constant and friendly face as we passed on the stairs in the years I’d lived here.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Bob!’ I planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘I hope you have a fantastic time.’

  I grinned, watching him redden.

  ‘You too, love,’ he stuttered, ‘and if I don’t see you before, a very happy New Year to you as well. I hope it will be the best one yet.’

  ‘Do you know, Bob?’ I said, picking up my case and pushing it through the door, ‘I think it just might be.’

 

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