Fiancee By Mistake

by Walker Kate

  'So what do you suggest?'

  'Well, if I was at home we'd be putting up decorations and the tree.'

  'Well, I'm sorry, but I happen to be fresh out of tinsel and baubles, and I don't have a tree handy...'

  'But we can improvise!' Leah refused to let him retreat into the cynically negative mood of the first night 'There must be—Oh, I know!'

  Getting to her feet, she hurried out into the living room, pulling back the curtains to reveal the snow-covered garden.

  'I thought so! Look...'

  She hadn't realised that Sean had followed her quite so closely, and was startled to find him close behind her when she turned.

  'Oh!'

  It escaped on a small, choking gasp. Her heart seemed to be performing somersaults under her ribcage and her breath tangled in her throat. As she had been on that very first day, she was sharply aware of the height and strength of his body, the wide chest under the soft cream sweater, the length and power of his legs in worn denim jeans.

  A slight, faintly bemused smile curled the comers of his expressive mouth, and she had to swallow down a disturbing urge to reach up and press a kiss on those beautifully shaped lips. That sort of thing was dangerous, she told herself furiously. Look where it had got her just days before!

  'Look at what?' Luckily Sean was unaware of the wayward path of her thoughts. 'All I can see is snow, and even more snow. It's all very well on Christmas cards, but in reality it's downright dangerous and inconvenient.'

  'You're not looking properly!'

  Leah forced herself to ignore the obvious implication that, were it not for the snow, he would be only too glad to be rid of her 'inconvenient' presence.

  "There are two wonderful holly trees out there. They've even got berries on them, so they'll be perfect. If ,we just collect some branches...'

  She was heading towards the door as she spoke, but came to an abrupt halt as Sean caught hold of her, from behind, strong fingers closing over her arm.

  'No way!' he declared uncompromisingly. 'What sort of idiot are you? You've only just got out of your sick-bed, and you'd be risking pneumonia going out in these temperatures. I've had enough of playing nursemaid, even if you're not tired of being the patient.'

  'Oh, I am!'

  Her vehemence was a reaction against the sting of that last remark. He couldn't have made it plainer that his gentleness and consideration had only been for the duration of her illness. No more.

  'And if I could get away from here, then believe me, I would. But, as I'm stuck, I'm simply trying to make the best of a bad job.'

  'And that involves festive decorations?'

  His tone implied that his mood, and therefore the atmosphere in the cottage, would be very far from the traditional one of celebration at this time of year.

  'Oh, well, if it'll give you something to keep you occupied. Just tell me what you want...'

  He wanted her quiet and out of his hair, Leah told herself, struggling to ignore a sharp stab of pain at the realisation. Well, that suited her. She'd concentrate on making the decorations and show him that she had no intention of making demands on his time or anything else.

  In the end it was surprisingly easy. From the moment that Sean brought in armfuls of the holly branches she found herself absorbed.

  Twisting the strands of greenery together to make a long garland, she draped it across the wooden mantelpiece, allowing several inches to dangle down at each side. Red satin ribbon that she had in her case in order to decorate her presents at home was turned into large bows at regular intervals along its length. And when Sean unexpectedly provided a box of creamy white candles she used them to add to the effect.

  Next she moved on to the large Welsh dresser at the far side of the dining room, twining the variegated leaves around the bowls and plates that stood on it As a centrepiece she arranged a huge display of the best of the berries in a large pottery vase. The work took her almost all day, but in the end she sat back and surveyed the result with some satisfaction.

  'You're good at this.' Sean had just come into the room in time to see her smile of triumph. 'You must have some artistic talent I hadn't guessed at.'

  'I always used to decorate my parents' house when I lived there.' A shadow crossed her face, draining the brightness from her eyes. 'There won't be anyone to do it this time.'

  'Hey...' Sean had caught her change of mood and his hand came up to touch her cheek very softly. 'Your mother knows you're safe.'

  'I just wish I could phone her and talk to her myself.'

  That gentle hand dropped back down to his side abruptly, leaving a cold spot on her face where it had been.

  'You never know.' Sean was turning away. 'Perhaps by tonight the phone will be back in use and you can contact her—and your fiancé,' he added pointedly.

  'And Andy,' Leah echoed.

  The other man would never be her fiancé now, she knew. She had always known that her relationship with him could not be described as a great passion, but she had cared enough for him to be able to consider his proposal of marriage. But from the moment Sean Gallagher had first exploded into her life there had been no place in her thoughts for Andy.

  She had tried to tell herself that it was only temporary. The initial shock of her accident had been followed by an enforced confinement which had pushed them into a hothouse relationship that her illness had only aggravated.

  But now she had to face the truth. She was obsessed with Sean, and helpless as a result. He had only to look at her to fire the blood in her veins, kiss her to free the desire that was always bubbling just below the surface of her mind like molten lava in a barely dormant volcano.

  'You've done wonders with this room. It looks positively festive. But there's just one problem...'

  Sean was obviously determined to change the subject, and, disturbed by her own feelings, she was only too glad to follow his lead.

  'And what problem's that?'

  'I doubt if I can provide a proper Christmas dinner to match up to it. There isn't a turkey in the freezer.'

  He looked unexpectedly rueful, so boyishly shamefaced that she found her spirits lifting in response.

  'No turkey?' she teased in exaggerated shock. 'Well, what about plum pudding?'

  A shake of his dark head gave her an answer, a grin surfacing briefly.

  'Mince pies?'

  'Definitely no mince pies.' Now his expression was one of distaste. 'To tell you the truth, I hate the things.'

  'Sacrilege!' Leah's eyes were gleaming now, her eyes alight with laughter to contradict her stunned tone of voice. 'You can't have Christmas without mince pies!'

  Suddenly she took pity on him.

  'I don't like them either—or Christmas pud. In fact I've never liked dried fruit at all, so I'd be perfectly happy with anything else.'

  'We'll have to raid the freezer.'

  As Leah nodded an idea struck her that made her eyes sparkle, brilliant with delight.

  'We can have whatever we want! Make up our own favourite meal. No one else will ever know that we didn't stick to tradition.'

  She pushed one last piece of holly into place with a sigh of satisfaction.

  'There! That's— Oh!'

  It was a cry of distress and shock as she felt a sharp pain in her hand. Glancing down, she saw that one particularly rough-edged holly leaf had ripped a jagged cut along her finger and thumb.

  'Are you all right? Let me see.'

  Automatically she held out the damaged hand, watching with widening eyes as Sean took it in a gentle grip. Her heart jolted in her chest, her mind hazing over, as she saw him lift it, carrying it to his lips, kissing away the tiny red beads of blood.

  'Sean...' She could only manage a shaken whisper.

  When he looked up into her face she could see how his pupils had dilated until his eyes were almost all black, the dark intensity of his gaze holding her transfixed. She was barely aware of the fact that he had released her, or of her action in lifting her hand to he
r own mouth, tasting him on her skin as in a kiss.

  'I...' he began, but she couldn't let him speak. The time had come. If she was ever going to explain then it had to be now, and she couldn't let anything get in the way.

  'Let me tell you about Andy.'

  The use of the other man's name was a mistake. As soon as she had spoken she saw him stiffen, the warmth dying in his eyes.

  'Leah—' he began on a note of rejection, but she shook her head violently.

  'No, let me explain. It's not what you think. Really, it's not! I told you that my mother and father had split up; it shook me really badly. I thought that the foundations on which I'd built my world had been shattered. I felt lost—rootless. It was just around that time that I met Andy.'

  At least he was still listening. That was something. She had been afraid that he would turn and walk away from her, but it seemed he was prepared to give her a chance.

  So now the words came tumbling out in a rush. She was desperate to have them said, to have everything cleared up at last.

  'He's quite a lot older than me—nearly forty—and I think that was what attracted me at first. I realise now that I was looking for someone to hold on to, a shoulder to cry on. I also needed someone who could provide the sort of security I'd lost. I thought Andy was that person. I wanted him to be it.'

  'And so you said that you'd marry him.'

  'No! I haven't actually agreed to do so. He asked me, but I haven't said I'll do anything except think about what my answer will be.'

  Cobalt eyes narrowed assessingly as Sean absorbed the facts she had given him. She could almost hear his brain working, thinking back over the past few days, centring on the time she had arrived at the cottage.

  'So you claimed to be engaged in order to stop me...'

  'As a protective device, yes. I...'

  What was happening? This wasn't how she had expected it would be!

  And what had she expected? Had she really believed that when she admitted to Sean that she wasn't actually engaged to Andy he would simply smile his relief and open his arms wide for her to fall into them? If she'd even dreamed of it for a single second, then she couldn't have been more wrong. ,

  'I was scared,' she tried again, but already he was turning away.

  'We'd better see about a meal.' She couldn't believe the flat, emotionless delivery of the words. 'Oh, and Leah...'

  It was tossed over his shoulder at her, the throwaway inflexion somehow emphasising rather than disguising the suppressed anger behind it.

  "The next time don't feel you have to resort to such subterfuge and storytelling. A simple no would have sufficed.'

  How could she tell him that she couldn't have managed that no? Leah wondered as he strode out of the room, leaving her with no alternative but to follow him. How could she risk revealing that where he was concerned that particular word had never even entered her head?

  Because Andy had never been able to spark off the sort of physical excitement that Sean could create in her simply by existing. When he touched her she went up in flames, the heated response seeming to melt her brain so that she couldn't think, let alone find the mental strength to say no, and mean it.

  'Take a look in the freezer and see if there's anything you fancy eating.'

  Sean's supremely casual tone made it quite plain, without words having to be spoken, that the topic of Andy and her supposed engagement was firmly closed. There was nothing more to be said about it.

  'And while you're at it you can check out the larder.'

  This was going to be one extremely uncomfortable meal, Leah thought miserably. But as Sean flung open a cupboard door she caught sight of something that jolted her out of her despondent mood, bringing a sudden smile to her face.

  Tacos!' She pounced on the box in delight 'I love tacos and chilli—the spicier the better. Do you have...?'

  'Do I have any chilli?' Sean finished for her, pulling out a drawer in the freezer. 'My brother would laugh his head off if he heard you ask that question. Not for nothing do I have a reputation for having a cast-iron mouth in my family. You're obviously a woman after my own heart. How hot can you take it?'

  'How hot can you make it?' Leah flung back, refusing to let her reaction to that easy 'woman after my own heart' show on her face or in her voice. It was just a phrase. It didn't mean anything.

  But deep inside she knew that it did. It meant that Sean was getting to her in a way that Andy had never done, a way that she couldn't risk even letting herself start to consider. Forcing it to the back of her mind, she set herself to organising preparations for the meal.

  'We should dress for dinner, make it something of a celebratory meal,' Sean surprised her by saying later when, with the chilli bubbling away in a pan, the salad prepared, and a bottle of red wine 'breathing' on the table, everything was almost ready.

  'What are we celebrating?' Leah asked warily.

  They had worked together in comparative ease, sharing every chore, sipping a glass of wine that he had poured. But now, with nothing more to do, she was unsure of just what his mood might be.

  'You said it yourself. It's Christmas Eve—and you've recovered from the virus. All right, I admit it...' He had caught the sceptical glance she had turned on him. 'It's just an excuse to suggest that you wear the red velvet dress again. I never did get a chance to enjoy the full effect of it the last time.'

  Because of the darkness of the night, or because he'd been so determined to take it off her? Leah found herself wondering, but strangely she found that she didn't care. She didn't know why Sean was offering her this 'celebratory meal', didn't know how far it was meant as an olive branch, or something else entirely. She only knew that it was an opportunity that she was going to grasp with both hands.

  'Only if you wear something equally posh,' she tossed back airily. 'I don't plan on sitting in solitary splendour while you stay casual in your jeans. Does your wardrobe boast anything suitable?'

  'I don't have a tux hidden away upstairs, if that's what you mean.' To her delight, Sean matched the lightness of her tone. "There isn't much call for one on the Yorkshire moors these days. But I promise I won't disgrace you.'

  'Well, in that case I'll go and put on my glad rags and paint my face.'

  Excitement lifted her heart so that she practically danced up the stairs, humming to herself as she pulled the red velvet dress from the wardrobe and checked it over.

  Thank God for Lycra! she thought to herself. It had survived the drive north and the wet conditions without any ill effects.

  When her mind threw back at her the reminder that Sean's attentions had been far more likely to damage the dress than anything else, she refused to let the thought register. Instead she concentrated on the prospect of the evening ahead, and the new mood of peace that seemed to have grown between her and Sean.

  With her skin still warm from her shower, she sprayed herself lavishly with the perfume she had packed in anticipation of a couple of parties at the houses of old school-friends.

  She had also let herself hope that something might happen to bring her father back home in time for her parents' traditional New Year celebrations, she recalled, her mood sobering slightly, but perhaps that was asking rather too much. Still, she hated to think of her mother alone. If only she could ring her!

  But that was impossible, and she forced herself to concentrate on her make-up instead. A light application of foundation and a touch of blusher removed the last traces of the pallor left by her illness, and subtle bronze shadow used with dark brown mascara highlighted her eyes. The final detail was a richly coloured lipstick that outlined and emphasised the fullness of her mouth, making it look warmly sensual.

  Sliding into the red dress, Leah suddenly found that her heart was racing frantically as she recalled the way Sean had looked at her the last time she had worn it. It was impossible to forget his kisses and caresses on that night and all they had led to.

  Did she want to risk a repeat of that reaction? she a
sked herself, considering her appearance in the mirror with a thoughtful expression. She knew the answer had to be yes when she met her own eyes in the glass and found that their violet depths seemed to be burning with an excited golden glow.

  That was exactly what she wanted. But still she made one alteration to the way she looked, leaving her dark hair loose and soft around her shoulders in order to differentiate herself from the woman Sean had first encountered—the woman he had believed was his brother's fiancée.

  Well, she was as ready as she would ever be. Sean was already out of the shower—she had heard the water shut off a few minutes before—so she had better head back downstairs.

  On a sudden impulse she turned and, rummaging in the bottom of her case, pulled out a small, brightly-wrapped parcel from amongst the collection she had brought with her for distribution at home. It wasn't much, just a jokey present she had planned to give one of her friends, but, as everyone said, it was the thought that counted.

  In the dining room, she placed the parcel at the foot of the large upright arrangement of holly branches by the hearth. It was the nearest she could get to anything resembling a tree. Then, feeling as nervous as a schoolgirl on her first date, she turned a bright smile on Sean as he came into the room.

  That smile faltered, almost slipped at the sight of him so tall and handsome in the dark, perfectly tailored suit, pristine white shirt and subtle silk tie. She had never seen him so formally dressed, and it rocked her sense of reality.

  For the first time he seemed like that luminous star of the acting world, the Sean Gallagher she had seen photographs of in newspapers and magazines. He was the man who attended film premières and award ceremonies, no longer the man who had patiently and gently nursed her through illness, who... Her cheeks flared at the recollection of how he had helped her to shower, and the clumsy attempt at seduction with which she had repaid him.

  'Will I do?' Sean had caught her transfixed gaze, and he used the light question to break the sudden silence.

  Leah could only nod silently, her throat closing over any words she might try to speak.