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Once Upon a Christmas

Page 9

by Sarah Morgan


  ‘You know nothing about men.’

  ‘I thought we were talking about ice?’

  ‘Amongst other things.’

  ‘Oh, right. So we’re back to the fact that I haven’t dated anyone for ages. It doesn’t make me stupid, Jack.’

  ‘And it doesn’t make you experienced.’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious that I’m never going to get any experience while I’m living in the same town as you!’ She glared at him and he gave a shrug.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss. You had your date. You spent the evening together. Was it good, by the way?’

  She opened her mouth to tell him that, no, it had not been good because she’d been staring at him all night, but she realised in time just how much that would reveal about her feelings and stopped herself.

  ‘It was fine,’ she lied, ‘but it hadn’t finished. I wanted him to take me home.’ And she’d wanted him to kiss her just to see whether it was possible for another man to take her mind off Jack.

  ‘You wanted him to take you home?’ There was a tense silence and she saw Jack’s fingers tighten on the wheel. ‘Why?’ His voice was suddenly harsh. ‘Or was that where the date was supposed to begin? Keen to make up for lost time, were you?’

  His tone was frosty and she gave an exclamation of disgust. ‘And so what if it was? What I do with my life is none of your business. I don’t need you to look out for me, Jack.’

  It was only when he stopped the car and switched off the engine that she realised that they were outside her home. The house was in darkness and suddenly she felt utterly depressed and lonely. Maybe Lizzie was right, she thought miserably. It would be great to walk into her house, knowing that someone was waiting for her. It would be great to have someone to hug her at night. She’d been without a man for almost all her life and suddenly she wanted someone special. Someone who cared whether she came home or not.

  But so far her quest for a man had been a disaster.

  And suddenly she just wanted to be on her own.

  ‘Well, thanks, Jack. Thanks for ruining my evening.’ She undid her seat belt and reached down to pick up her bag. ‘I would invite you in for coffee but, seeing as you think that’s a euphemism for sex, naturally I wouldn’t dream of it. And anyway I’m sure you’re dying to get back to Nina.’

  ‘Nina is just a friend.’

  ‘I really couldn’t care less, Jack,’ she lied, ‘because your love life isn’t any of my business, just as my love life is none of your business. A whole month has gone past since Lizzie sent her letter to Santa and so far I haven’t even managed to get a man to kiss me.’

  ‘You want a man to kiss you?’ Jack’s voice was a deep growl and without waiting for her answer he slid a hand round her head and brought his mouth down on hers with punishing force. His long fingers bit into her scalp and he lifted his other hand and curved it around her cheek, holding her face still for his kiss.

  Utterly shocked, Bryony lifted a hand to his chest, intending to push him away, but instead her traitorous fingers curled into his shirt, then loosened a button and slid inside. Her fingers felt the roughness of his chest hair, warm skin and solid muscle and she felt his grip on her head tighten as his kiss gentled and his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open for him.

  And then he was really kissing her.

  Kissing her in the way that she’d always known only he could.

  And it felt like magic. How could one person make another feel so different unless it was magic? She was trembling and shivering, overwhelmed by an excitement so intense that she didn’t know where it was leading or how it would end. She only knew that she wanted to get closer to him, to crawl all over him but the seats in the car didn’t exactly encourage that type of contact. So instead she leaned into him, sliding her hand around his body and trying to draw him closer.

  His tongue teased hers gently and then dipped deeper, exploring the interior of her mouth with a lazy expertise that was so erotic it set her entire body on fire. With a maddening degree of self-control, he slid the backs of his fingers over her cheek and down to her neck, trailing his fingers tantalisingly close to her aching breasts before stopping just short of his target. Bryony whimpered with frustration. Longing for his touch, she arched against him but he didn’t move his hand. Instead, he continued to kiss her with increasing intensity until none of her senses were under her control.

  And then finally, just when she thought her entire body would explode with frustration, he touched her. His strong hand cupped one breast through the silken fabric of her dress and then he drew his thumb over her nipple, creating an agony of sensation so powerful that she gasped against his mouth and shifted in the seat to try and relieve the nagging throb between her thighs.

  ‘Jack …’

  The moment she sobbed his name he lifted his head, his breathing unsteady as he stared down at her. Then he released her abruptly and ran a hand over his face, obviously as shaken as she was.

  Her whole body screamed in protest that he’d stopped and she looked at him in dazed confusion.

  ‘Jack?’

  She saw him tense and then he turned to face her, his handsome face totally blank of expression. ‘Now do you see?’

  She swallowed, finding it terribly hard to concentrate, still suffering from the aftershocks of his kiss. ‘Now do I see what?’

  ‘That kisses can get out of control.’ His eyes dropped to her parted lips, still swollen and damp from the ruthless demands of his mouth and then dropped further still to the outline of her breasts which pushed boldly against her dress. He dragged his gaze away and stared into the darkness. ‘That’s what would have happened if you’d invited David Armstrong back for coffee.’

  Bryony stared at him in silence.

  She felt as though the world had changed shape. As if everything should look different. It certainly felt different.

  For her, their entire relationship had changed in an instant. The moment his mouth had touched hers, everything had become different.

  But evidently he didn’t feel the same way.

  Chewing her lip, she reminded herself that this was Jack. Jack, whose parents had divorced when he was eight and who had vowed never to get married himself when he grew up. And then he’d grown up and had shown no intention of changing his mind about that one fact. Jack didn’t do relationships. Judging from the few conversations she’d overheard between her brothers, Jack did sex and not much else.

  But even knowing that, her whole body flooded with disappointment as she realised that obviously the kiss hadn’t meant anything at all to him. He’d actually been proving a point and in doing so he’d proved something to her, too.

  That she’d been right all along about Jack. He was an amazing kisser.

  And she knew that the same thing would never have happened had she invited David Armstrong back for coffee. David might have kissed her, that was true, but she knew that there wasn’t another man on the planet who would make her feel what Jack had just made her feel.

  But it was totally hopeless.

  And the raw, sexual attraction she felt for Jack shouldn’t interfere with her determination to find a father for Lizzie, she told herself firmly.

  That was just lust and lust always faded anyway. She needed a man who would be kind, good company and a caring father to Lizzie. She didn’t need raw sexual attraction. In fact, raw sexual attraction was starting to turn her into a nervous wreck.

  So she lifted her chin and smiled at Jack, proud of how natural it seemed. ‘Well, thanks for the practice,’ she said lightly, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek, resisting the almost overwhelming temptation to trace a route to his mouth with the tip of her tongue. ‘I’d forgotten how to do it, but you reminded me. Now I know I’ll get it right next time I go out with David.’

  And with that she opened the door, climbed out of the car and walked to her cottage without looking back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  DAMN.
Damn. Damn.

  What the hell had he done?

  He’d kissed his best friend.

  Jack stared after Bryony, trying to decide what shocked him most. The fact that he’d kissed her, or the fact that he hadn’t wanted to stop.

  He sat in the car with the engine switched off, staring into the frozen darkness feeling as though something fundamental to his existence had changed.

  Where had it come from? That sudden impulse to kiss her …

  Blondie was family.

  As much a baby sister to him as she was to Tom and Oliver.

  And until tonight he’d never thought of her in any other way.

  Or had he?

  Had he really never thought of her like that or was it just that he’d trained himself not to?

  He sat still, watching the house, and then suddenly the lights went on. He saw her walk into her cosy sitting room and shrug off her coat, revealing that amazing red dress and an avalanche of blonde hair.

  For years he hadn’t seen her in a dress and suddenly she seemed to be wearing a different one every week.

  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, still able to detect the tantalising scent of her hair and skin. The instantaneous reaction of his body was so powerful that he gritted his teeth and shifted slightly in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position.

  There wasn’t one.

  Suddenly, somehow, she’d invaded every part of him.

  He’d made an unconscious decision never to cross that boundary but now he’d crossed it there was no going back.

  Whichever way he looked at her, he didn’t see a surrogate sister any more. And he didn’t see his best friend. He saw a woman. A living, breathing, stunningly beautiful woman.

  But he couldn’t do anything about it.

  Lizzie was looking for a father. Someone strong who could swing her in the garden. Someone funny who’d let her watch television before school and who wouldn’t make her eat sprouts.

  Well, he could do that bit with no problem. He wasn’t that keen on sprouts himself so he was more than happy to collude over their exclusion from their diet. And he had no trouble swinging her in the garden, hugging her and making her laugh. In fact, he was great at all those things.

  The problem came with the last bit of her letter.

  I want a daddy who will hug my mummy and stay with us for ever.

  Jack leaned his head back against the seat and let out a long breath. He didn’t do for ever. He had trouble doing next month. The whole concept of ‘for ever’ frightened the life out of him.

  And Bryony knew that.

  She knew him better than anyone.

  Which was probably why she’d looked so shocked when he’d kissed her. Hell, he’d been shocked! And now he was confused, too, which was a totally new experience for him. He was never confused about women. He knew exactly what he wanted from them.

  Everything, as long as it wasn’t permanent.

  Which meant that he had absolutely nothing to offer Bryony.

  He started the engine and clenched his hands on the wheel. He had to stop noticing her as a woman. Surely it couldn’t be that hard? After all, he’d only just started noticing her that way. It couldn’t be that hard to go back to seeing her as his best friend.

  He’d just carry on as they always had. Dropping round to see her. Chatting in her kitchen. And seeing other women.

  It would be fine.

  If working with Jack had been hard before the kiss, for Bryony it became even harder afterwards.

  When he walked into a room she knew instantly, even when she had her back to him.

  She didn’t need to see him. She felt him. Felt his presence with every feminine bone in her body.

  And she noticed everything about him. The way the solid muscle of his shoulders moved when he reached up to yank an X-ray out of the lightbox, the way his head tilted slightly when he was concentrating on something and the way everyone always asked his opinion on everything. She noticed how good he was with anxious relatives, how strong and capable he was with terrified patients and how well he dealt with inexperienced staff. He was the cleverest doctor she’d ever worked with and he had an instinctive feel for what was wrong with a patient before he’d even examined them.

  If she’d had butterflies before he’d kissed her, they seemed to have multiplied since the kiss.

  Which was utterly ridiculous because obviously, for him, nothing had changed.

  Their relationship followed the same pattern of blonde jokes, man jokes and evenings when he sat with his feet on her table in the kitchen, watching while she cooked, a bottle of beer snuggled in his lap.

  And now they were into December and there was no sign of a man who was even remotely close to fulfilling Lizzie’s criteria for a daddy.

  David hadn’t asked her out again and she’d resigned herself to the fact that he was probably now dating Nina.

  ‘Are you upset about that?’ she asked Jack one evening, when they were curled up in front of the fire. She was writing Christmas cards and he was staring into the flames with a distant look in his eyes.

  ‘Upset about what?’

  ‘Nina.’ She said the other woman’s name as lightly as possible. ‘Someone told me that she’s seeing David Armstrong.’

  ‘Is she?’ Jack suppressed a yawn and stretched long legs out in front of him. ‘Well, good for him.’

  ‘You never should have sent them home together. I’m amazed you’re not upset.’

  He gave her a mocking smile. ‘Come on, Blondie. How long have you known me?’

  She stared at him. ‘You engineered it, didn’t you?’ Her pen fell to the floor as she suddenly realised what had happened. ‘You got rid of her.’

  His gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I encouraged her to find someone else, yes.’

  ‘Why?’ Bryony shook her head, puzzled. ‘She was nice. And she seemed crazy about you.’ Jack looked at her steadily. ‘She was.’ Which was why he’d ended it. It was Jack’s usual pattern.

  Bryony sighed. ‘Jack, you’re thirty-four,’ she said softly. ‘You can’t run for ever.’

  He gave a funny lopsided grin that made her heart turn over. ‘Watch me.’

  ‘Listen …’ She put her pen down and gave up on her Christmas cards. They could wait. ‘I know your parents’ divorce was really difficult for you, but you can’t—’

  ‘Drop it, Blondie. I don’t want to talk about it.’ His eyes glittered ominously and she saw the warning in the blue depths. Taboo subject.

  She sighed. ‘But, Jack, you can’t—’

  ‘Why did the blonde tiptoe past the medicine cabinet?’ he drawled lazily, and she rolled her eyes, exasperated by his refusal to talk about his emotions. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Because she didn’t want to wake the sleeping pills.’ Jack gave a wicked smile that made her heart jump in her chest.

  He was so shockingly handsome it was totally unfair, and when he smiled like that she just melted.

  ‘How many men does it take to change a toilet roll?’ She smiled sweetly. ‘No one knows. It’s never been done. So what did Nina do wrong?’

  Jack gave a sardonic smile. ‘Frankly? She said, “I love you”,’ he said dryly, and gave a mock shudder. ‘Which is the same as “goodbye” in my language.’

  Bryony rolled her eyes. ‘They always say that if you want to get rid of a man, you should say “I love you, I want to marry you and most of all I want to have your children.” It’s guaranteed to leave skid marks.’

  Jack laughed. ‘That’s just about the size of it. Why do you think I bought a Ferrari?’

  Bryony sighed. ‘Poor Nina.’

  ‘She knew the score.’

  But Bryony was willing to bet that knowing the score hadn’t made it any easier. On the other hand, Nina seemed to have moved on quite happily to David so she couldn’t have been that broken-hearted.

  ‘One day you’ll settle down, Jack,’ Bryony predicted, licking another envelope. ‘You’ll be such a grea
t father.’

  ‘That’s nonsense.’

  ‘Look how great you are with Lizzie.’

  ‘That’s because I have all the fun and none of the responsibility,’ he said shortly, frowning slightly as he looked at her.

  ‘I don’t think that’s true. Lizzie expects a lot from you and you always deliver. How many netball matches have you been to this year?’

  Jack grinned. ‘Lots. You know me. Rugby, rock-climbing, netball—my three favourite sports.’

  She laughed. ‘Precisely. The sight of you standing on the side of a netball court would be funny if it wasn’t so touching.’ She added the envelope to the ever-growing pile. ‘And it is touching, Jack. You’re fantastic with Lizzie.’

  A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘But what she really wants is a father.’

  Bryony shrugged. ‘And who can blame her for that?’

  ‘She doesn’t realise that fathers aren’t perfect.’

  ‘I think she probably does, actually. But she still wants someone.’

  ‘So how is the quest going? Any suitable candidates lined up? Obviously David is now off the scene …’

  Something in his tone made her glance up at him but his expression was neutral.

  ‘Well, it’s not going that well,’ Bryony muttered, licking another envelope and adding it to the pile. ‘Christmas is three weeks away and I don’t have another date until Saturday.’

  His expression was suddenly hostile. ‘You have a date on Saturday? Who with?’

  Bryony blushed slightly. ‘Toby.’

  ‘Toby who?’ Jack was frowning and she laughed.

  ‘You know—our Toby. Toby from the mountain rescue team.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’ He glared at her. ‘Toby? He’s totally unsuitable.’

  ‘Calm down, Jack,’ Bryony said mildly, gathering up all the envelopes and putting them on the table. ‘Toby is nice. And he’s always been kind to Lizzie.’

  ‘Toby has a terrible reputation with women,’ Jack said frostily, and she shrugged.

  ‘So do you, Jack.’

  ‘But I’m not dating you.’

  And how she wished he was. Her gaze met his and held and then he sucked in a breath and rose to his feet, powerful and athletic.

 

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