The Christmas Night Miracle

by Mortimer, Carole

  ‘Oh, no, little Meg,’ he cut in tauntingly, totally relaxed as he watched her from beneath hooded lids. ‘You’ve already asked enough questions for one evening. Or do you want me to repeat the question?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ she snapped tautly.

  ‘I’m still waiting, Meg,’ he prompted softly seconds later at her tight-lipped silence.

  She was as disturbed by his use of her first name as she was by his persistence. Although it would be slightly ridiculous, given the circumstances, for them to continue to stand on formality.

  This time her sip of wine was more from necessity than for effect. ‘You would have to know my parents to understand.’

  ‘Oh, I can believe that,’ he drawled scathingly.

  ‘My father has been ill.’

  ‘How old is Scott?’ he prompted hardly.

  ‘Three and a half. But—’

  ‘Your father has been ill for three and a half years?’ he said disbelievingly.

  ‘Of course not,’ she snapped agitatedly. ‘I was just…Our parents are in their sixties.’

  ‘Our?’ Jed picked up frowningly. ‘You have siblings too?’

  ‘One. A sister,’ she supplied reluctantly, knowing that the sophisticated Sonia wouldn’t have found herself blushing and stumbling in conversation with this wildly attractive man, that her sister would have known exactly what to do and say.

  ‘Older or younger?’ he prompted softly.

  ‘Older. Just,’ she added with a sigh, knowing she had succeeded in disconcerting him by the way his eyes widened.

  ‘You have a twin sister?’

  ‘No need to sound so surprised.’ It was her turn to mock him now. ‘They say everyone has a lookalike somewhere in the world, my sister just happens to be mine.’

  He frowned. ‘You’re identical?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed brightly. ‘Or, at least, we were,’ she added slowly.

  ‘Either you are or you aren’t,’ Jed derided, obviously not one to be disconcerted for long.

  ‘We are,’ Meg confirmed abruptly. No need to mention that Sonia had had her teeth whitened and capped, the freckles on her nose minimized, and wore an all-year-round tan. ‘But Sonia wears her hair short, and is—well, she’s a lawyer. I’m the arty one.’ She sighed. ‘I’m an interior designer,’ she explained as he seemed to be looking at her hands for signs of paint.

  ‘Wow.’ He gave a derisive smile as he looked around the room. ‘You must be itching to change things in here.’

  She wasn’t sure she would know where to start.

  Well, no, that wasn’t strictly true, although the décor in here did run to worn and comfortable rather than elegant or eye-catching. She would take out all the heavy furniture for a start, replace it with—

  ‘Just joking, Meg,’ he drawled. ‘As I told you, I don’t own the place. As long as it has a chair for me to sit on and a bed for me to sleep in, I’m really not too interested.’ He sat forward in his armchair, cradling his glass of wine between long, sensitive hands. ‘I am beginning to see a pattern emerging, though,’ he told her softly.

  Meg gave him a startled look. ‘You are?’

  ‘I am.’ He gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘Twin girls, born to older parents, one twin practical and ambitious, the other more sensitive and artistic. The older twin goes on to make a successful career for herself as a lawyer, an advantageous marriage—she is married? I thought she might be,’ he drawled at Meg’s nod of confirmation. ‘No kids, either, I suspect; plenty of time for that later, if at all. The younger twin, on the other hand, turned out to have an artistic flare, opted for art college in London rather than university before finally getting spat out into the real world, only to end up getting pregnant—’

  ‘I think you have said quite enough, Mr Cole,’ Meg cut in abruptly, turning away slightly so that he wouldn’t see the sheen of tears in her eyes. ‘It isn’t polite to discuss people’s personal lives in this way.’

  ‘British reserve, you mean?’ he derided. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that. We have something like it in the States too. It’s called respecting other peoples’ privacy. But I seem to remember someone asking questions about my family before dinner.’

  ‘It’s hardly the same.’ She turned sharply to snap at him, having brought those tears firmly under control. She had cried enough tears over the years over her family, without breaking down in front of this man.

  Jed Cole looked up at her consideringly. ‘Got a little too close to home, did I?’

  Far too close. Although he hadn’t been right about everything. No, not everything.

  ‘Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it,’ Jed chided derisively. ‘I’m the duckling in my nest of swans too: Granddad was a farmer, Dad’s a farmer, my two brothers are farmers.’

  ‘And you, Mr Cole, what exactly are you?’ she challenged, still stung by their earlier conversation.

  ‘Well, I sure as hell ain’t a farmer,’ he assured mockingly.

  She already knew that, those strong, slender hands didn’t grow crops or tend animals. In his youth maybe, but certainly not for the last twenty years or so.

  He gave a confidently dismissive smile. ‘We weren’t discussing me.’

  ‘We aren’t discussing me, either.’ Meg drank down some more of her wine before placing the almost empty glass down on the table. ‘Offering Scott and I shelter for the night does not entitle you to comment on either myself or my family.’

  ‘No?’ he taunted huskily, putting his own glass down on the carpeted floor before getting slowly to his feet. ‘Then what does it entitle me to?’ he challenged, that vivid blue gaze moving over her slowly, from the tips of her toes to the top of her ebony head, before moving down slightly to rest speculatively on the fullness of her lips.

  For some reason he was deliberately trying to unnerve her. And he was succeeding. The atmosphere between them was now charged with expectation, the intensity of his gaze almost tangible against her lips.

  He was playing with her, Meg recognized frowningly. It was there in the mocking twist to his mouth, the hard gleam of laughter in his eyes.

  She drew in an angry breath. ‘It entitles you to my heartfelt thanks,’ she bit out tautly.

  He gave a brief inclination of his head. ‘Which you’ve already made. Several times,’ he drawled.

  Her eyes sparkled with her anger. ‘Which I’ve already made several times,’ she agreed tightly. ‘Now if you will excuse me.’ She bent to pick her handbag up from the floor. ‘It’s been a long day, and I’m very tired.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll excuse you, Meg,’ he told her mockingly. ‘I’m sure that most men would excuse you anything.’

  Her mouth tightened. ‘Goodnight, Mr Cole,’ she told him firmly before turning on her heel to leave.

  ‘’Night, Meg,’ he called after her tauntingly.

  Her shoulders stiffened slightly but she didn’t halt her departure, only starting to breathe again once she was out in the hallway with the door firmly closed behind her.

  Jed Cole was rude. He was hostile. He was mocking. He was, in a word, infuriating.

  He was also one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. And far too sexy for his own good.

  ‘Just exactly what do you think you’re doing?’

  Jed looked up to watch as a very irate Meg stomped across the snow towards them, her eyes sparkling deeply green, twin wings of angry colour in her cheeks.

  Something had put a burr under her saddle, that was for sure, and it appeared to be him. Although he couldn’t for the life of him think what he had done; this was the first time this morning that he had set eyes on her.

  As to what he and Scott were doing, surely the two huge balls of snow, one placed on top of the other, the bottom one larger than the top, spoke for themselves.

  But he was willing to humour her for the moment. ‘We’re building a snowman.’

  ‘I can see that,’ Meg snapped irritably. ‘But don’t you think it would have bee
n better to have woken me first and told me what you were doing?’

  ‘Why?’ Jed eyed her derisively. ‘Did you want to build a snowman, too?’ He folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at her.

  ‘No, of course I—’ she broke off her angry reply to glare at him frustratedly. ‘You—’

  ‘You really should have put a hat and coat on before coming out here,’ Jed told her frowningly. She was already starting to shiver as the cold penetrated the red jumper and denims she wore. ‘Especially as I made sure Scott was dressed appropriately before I would let him come outside.’

  ‘Isn’t our snowman great, Mummy?’ The animated little boy was covered in enough snow to be a snowman himself, having insisted on rolling the huge balls of snow until they had become too heavy for him to move and Jed had had to take over. ‘Jed says he has an old hat and scarf we can put on him.’

  ‘Mr Cole, darling,’ Meg corrected slightly distractedly as she brushed some of the snow from his clothes.

  Scott grimaced with what little of his face could be seen beneath the woollen hat and scarf he wore. ‘But he said I could call him Jed, Mummy,’ he dismissed with the simplicity of a child. ‘Jed says we need a carrot and some coal, too, for his face.’

  Jed watched the way Meg’s mouth tightened slightly at this second ‘Jed says’ in as many minutes, sensing there was an explosion about to happen if he didn’t intervene. ‘How about Mummy and I go back into the cottage and get them right now?’ he suggested lightly. ‘You can look in the wood pile over there for some small branches that might do for arms, if you like,’ he added as the little boy looked disappointed not to be included in the task.

  ‘Cool!’ Scott grinned before scampering off to the wood pile, totally impervious to the icy cold air that was now making his mother’s teeth chatter.

  Jed raised dark brows at a still frowning Meg. ‘Shall we?’ He indicated the cottage.

  Her mouth firmed. ‘I think we had better,’ she muttered disgruntledly before turning and stomping back inside.

  Jed followed at a more leisurely pace, sure that she wouldn’t approve of the way he was watching her hips and backside move in the tight denims.

  Yep, there was no doubt about it, Meg Hamilton was a fine-looking woman, under any circumstances. And Scott was a great little kid.

  But they were also a complication he didn’t need in his life, now or at any other time, so he had better stop thinking this way. Absolutely no involvement, he reminded himself sternly.

  They got as far as the kitchen before she turned on him. ‘I don’t allow Scott to be overfamiliar with adults,’ she told him stiffly.

  ‘That’s good.’ He nodded tersely. ‘I don’t believe in being overfamiliar with adults, either.’ Although he couldn’t guarantee that was going to last too much longer where Meg was concerned. It was a cliché, he knew, but she really was beautiful when she was angry. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, her cheeks were flushed, even her lips appeared redder. And more kissable.

  ‘You know exactly what I mean,’ she told him frustratedly. ‘And what do you mean by just disappearing outside with him in that way?’ She stood hands on hips now as she challenged him.

  ‘I don’t see what your problem is.’

  ‘My problem is that I woke up to find Scott gone, and neither of you to be found in the cottage.’ She was tense with fury now. ‘If I hadn’t heard Scott laughing, and looked out of the window and seen you both I would have thought—’

  ‘What?’ he cut in icily. ‘What would you have thought, Meg? That I had run off with him? Because if that thought even entered your mind I—’

  ‘It didn’t!’ Her shocked expression said that it really hadn’t. ‘It was only that I woke up to find the bed beside me empty.’

  ‘Always a disappointment,’ he drawled, starting to relax again.

  Meg shot him a reproving glare. ‘Speaking for yourself, of course.’

  ‘Oh, of course,’ he murmured dryly.

  ‘Humph.’ She gave him a narrow-eyed look before continuing, ‘Anyway, I woke up and Scott wasn’t there. Neither were his clothes. A quick search of the cottage showed me that you weren’t here, either. I thought—well, what I thought was that Scott must have woken up, been confused about where he was, and just—just wandered off somewhere. I thought you had gone after him. And that perhaps you had both got lost in the snow. And then I heard Scott laughing.’ She choked back the tears. ‘And when I looked out the window and saw the two of you happily building what I could clearly see was a snowman, well, that’s when I got angry instead of scared.’

  ‘And came straight out of the cottage ready to tear me limb from limb!’ he drawled. ‘You aren’t becoming hysterical again, are you?’ He eyed her warily; she was certainly babbling enough to be, had said more in the last five minutes than in the whole of their previous acquaintance. ‘Because you know what I threatened to do the last time you became hysterical.’ He could see by the sudden colour that flooded her cheeks that she did remember. Clearly.

  ‘Of course I’m not becoming hysterical,’ she defended strongly.

  ‘No?’ Well, there was no need for her to sound quite that certain. He wasn’t sure it was good for his ego. His ego, be damned; women didn’t usually make it so obvious they desperately wanted to avoid having him kiss them.

  Now who was being irrational? Don’t get involved, he had told himself. Firmly. Decisively. Now he felt annoyed that the woman he needed to keep his distance from also wanted to keep him at a distance.

  ‘No,’ she acknowledged agitatedly. ‘I passed hysterical some time ago.’

  ‘You did?’ he grated speculatively.

  ‘I did.’ She nodded. ‘And then I—What are you doing?’ She gasped as he took hold of the tops of her arms. ‘You don’t need to shake me.’ She looked up at him with guileless eyes. ‘I told you, I was—’ whatever she was or wasn’t was cut off as Jed lowered his head and kissed her, something he had been wanting to do since last night.

  Her lips felt soft and cool beneath his, but that coolness was only from the cold outside, he quickly learnt as her mouth became warm and inviting.

  It was all the encouragement he needed, his arms moving about the slenderness of her waist as he moulded her curves into his, her tiny hands coming to rest on his shoulders as she clung to him.

  ‘Mummy, did you find the carrot and the—oh…’

  Meg came to her senses a lot quicker than Jed did, obviously attuned to her son’s voice, pulling sharply away to release herself and turn to where Scott stood in the doorway in open-mouthed fascination, his eyes huge green pools of curiosity.

  ‘No, we haven’t found them yet, Scott,’ Meg’s voice quivered slightly. ‘We—I had something in my eye and Mr Cole, Jed, was getting it out for me,’ she invented with a smoothness that had Jed staring at her too.

  ‘Something in her eye’ my eye, he glowered darkly. Although perhaps her version was better than telling Scott that Jed had been devouring his mother’s mouth with a need that had quickly spiraled out of control.

  So much for not getting involved.

  What the hell had he been thinking?

  He hadn’t been thinking at all, that was the problem, only feeling. And Meg had felt very good indeed.

  ‘The carrot’s in the cool box in the fridge, and the coal is in the bucket in the sitting-room,’ he rasped as Meg bent down so that her son could inspect that the imaginary something had definitely gone from her eye.

  The face Meg turned towards him was white with strain. ‘Where are you going?’ she prompted huskily as Jed moved to the door.

  ‘Out,’ he barked harshly.

  She blinked. ‘Out where?’

  ‘Just out!’ he bit out tersely, making good his escape, having no real idea where he was going, only that he had to get away from Meg for a while.

  And try to get the taste and feel of her out of his head.

  Chapter 4

  ‘The main roads are clear if you would like
to get your things together.’

  Meg gave Jed a startled look as she sat at the table playing a game of cards with Scott, not having heard him come into the cottage.

  Jed had been gone for over an hour, time enough for her to have helped Scott finish off the snowman, make him some breakfast and a cup of coffee for herself, before sitting down to play a game of Pairs with him.

  But during all that time she had been half listening for the sound of Jed Cole’s return, not quite knowing what to say to him after what had happened between them, the memory of that kiss still firmly in her mind, only knowing that she felt less alone when he was around.

  Well, she was less alone when he was around, obviously. But it was more than that: there was an arrogant confidence about Jed, an assurance, that made her feel nothing could go too wrong while he was there.

  Except that he might kiss her again, of course.

  She had been too stunned earlier to do anything more than respond when he’d started kissing her, and by the time she’d stopped feeling stunned she had found she was enjoying it too much to want it to stop.

  Quite what to make of that, when she had only known the man for less than twenty-four hours, she wasn’t quite sure. But it certainly made her feel shy about facing him again.

  Except that now he was back he was telling her it was time for her and Scott to leave.

  ‘You carry on playing, Scott,’ she told her son softly. ‘I just want to have a word with Mr—Jed,’ she quickly amended as he scowled across the room at her.

  She followed him out into the hallway as he stepped out of the room, firmly telling herself to forget what had happened between the two of them earlier, that it would be better for everyone if she did.

  Except that she couldn’t quite keep her gaze from the sensuous curve of his lips, or stop herself from remembering how they had felt against hers, or the slight abrasiveness of his chin, where he was in need of a shave, against the softness of hers.

  ‘What word did you have in mind?’ he drawled sarcastically. ‘Opportunist? Lecher? Or maybe something worse?’ He grimaced self-disgustedly.