Christmas with Her Ex

The indecision of it all. Who does he think I am? Who do I want to be? And if I went with him would I have any choices left to me? That had been the big one.

She still believed she’d done the right thing, but she shouldn’t have been such a coward about it.

Maybe it wasn’t too far-fetched that they could reconnect as friends. She hated the constraint she’d caused between them and the added bonus was she genuinely liked his grandmother.

If she sincerely apologised then surely a lot of the ill feeling would be over? It seemed he didn’t mind if she came to lunch so that was a good sign.

And afterwards she could get on with enjoying her trip. Soak it all up in the way she hadn’t yet started to do because of remembering her youth and Connor and her last-minute aborted wedding.

The whole trip would be over by tomorrow evening and she would have wasted it dwelling on the past.

She felt a strange sense of settlement as the decision was made. Funny how things worked out.

Wolfgang returned with the bottle of champagne and offered her a refill. She appreciated his generosity in the circumstances. ‘You can tell her, yes, thank you.’ She looked at her brimming glass. ‘Just make sure I don’t fall over on the way to lunch.’

He nodded with a smile. ‘My pleasure, madam. I will return at five minutes to the hour to escort you to the correct dining car.’

‘Lovely, thanks.’

Kelsie put down the glass and glanced at her watch. Eleven-thirty. And how long would lunch go on for? It couldn’t be too long because the second sitting had been set for an hour and a half later and they’d have to reset the tables.

She glanced at her satchel, still unpacked. Clothes!

As the magnificent scenery of the white-capped Italian Dolomites passed, Kelsie refreshed her make-up, brushed her hair, and with a certain excitement hung up her clothes for the meal after this one.

Her aunt had always stressed it would be black tie for the evening meal on the train when she’d first mooted the idea of realising her dream, and Kelsie wanted everything to be ready when she came back after lunch.

They’d often laughed about Kelsie wearing off-the-shoulder velvet on the Orient Express, and while it wasn’t velvet or off the shoulder, the black uncrushable gown was suspended by gold links of chain above her breasts and fell from beneath her bust to the floor.

Keslie studied the gown as it swayed gently on its hanger, almost Grecian in appearance, the accompanying chain belt dangling loosely at the side. the saleswoman had said it accentuated her height. She might need that if she was going to be passing Connor in the bar car.

Kelsie brushed the creases from her suit and changed the fine pale pink silk scarf for a Nile-blue one that made her smile and gave her confidence.

Her aunt had always promoted blue scarves or necklaces. ‘Excellent for the throat chakra, you know. Allows conversation to flow.’ Well, Kelsie thought, she certainly wanted to ensure her communication skills were premium. This could be a good day for blue.

She dived back into her jewellery bag and added blue earrings and a necklace, a little over the top, she conceded, but she wanted her mouth to function well and every bit helped.

Wolfgang arrived as she’d retouched her lipstick so she squared her shoulders and picked up her purse.

‘Please follow me, madam.’

‘Thank you.’ I’d love to, she thought sarcastically as nerves fluttered in her stomach. No. This was going to be fine.

She wobbled a bit on her heels as they walked, though she did improve the further she went. Wolfgang didn’t seem to have any problems with the slight swaying of the carriage but every now and then Kelsie raised her hands for balance, just in case, as they rattled from side to side, and placed her feet carefully on the blue carpet.

At the end of each car the wood panelling reached new heights of intricacy, with the inlaid parquetry glowing with colour. Someone, maybe even Wolfgang, was handy with the cedar oil and polishing, but she had to admit the decorations were truly beautiful examples of a bygone era.

And then she saw the bar car. ‘Oh, my.’

An absolute delight, the long curved bar was lit softly by lamps, and there was an ebony baby grand piano, the white ivory keys silent but, like the young passenger standing at the bar nursing his glass, waiting for the time it would be played.

Wolfgang inclined his head at the man, and Kelsie smiled as well. It wasn’t hard. He was young, extremely good looking, with an admiring smile. Maybe she could spend some time in the bar before dinner.

Of necessity the carriages were all narrow, and the bar car was no exception. Tiny window seats for two slim people huddled together on one side of the narrow walkway, and on the other side a lengthwise set of couches that allowed people to sit side by side and look across the aisle and out to the magnificent scenery opposite. Tiny tables with ice buckets and wine or dishes of nuts were scattered along the length of the car.

They passed into and through the first dining car—plush velvet, crystal glasses, white-coated waiters—and into the next, which was just starting to fill with well-dressed patrons. And everywhere Christmas decorations had been discreetly tucked into unexpected corners and there was a muted background of carols playing.

Connor and Winsome were already there and Connor stood as she entered, tall, broadly jacketed, and austere as Wolfgang stopped beside their table.

Then her new friend turned and deserted her, or it felt like desertion, and she fought the urge to follow Wolfgang as Connor indicated she should take the seat next to him. She hadn’t expected that. She gulped.

Kelsie stiffened her spine and slid across to the window opposite Winsome, trying not to shrink away as her ex-fiancé sat back down beside her.

It was a good thing she didn’t have to look at him, a very good thing, but the warmth from his leg radiated heat her way even though he wasn’t actually touching her.

As the waiter flicked her serviette and floated it onto her lap in a stirring of air she could smell Connor’s aftershave, tangy and very masculine.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured to the man, fingering the fine linen in her lap nervously, and then looked across at Winsome. ‘Thank you for the invitation,’ she said politely, like a little girl and then inclined her head towards the fourth setting. ‘Is someone else joining us?’

The two exchanged a look but Winsome answered. ‘We’re not sure. Apparently the other single passenger is feeling unwell and may not join us for lunch.’

‘Oh. That’s a shame.’ Truly a shame. A bit of diversion to leaven the stolid silence at the table wouldn’t have gone astray.

‘And who is your travelling companion in your cabin?’ Winsome asked. ‘I always wondered what happened if you ended with someone terrible.’

She had to laugh at that. ‘I’m on my own. It’s lovely to stretch out.’

‘Oh. How fortunate. But if you get lonely just come and find us.’

Kelsie smiled and murmured her thanks, but along with Connor she didn’t comment on his grandmother’s invitation.

‘Would madam like a drink?’

How many hospitality staff were there? She hadn’t seen the waiter arrive and she declined after a glance at the embossed wine list and thought of the glasses of bubbles she’d already downed. ‘Water, please.’

‘Sir?’

Connor raised his dark brows. ‘Perhaps a glass of wine with lunch?’ He glanced at his grandmother. ‘We are celebrating your deferred birthday after all. Champagne?’

‘Absolutely. Thank you.’ Winsome obviously enjoyed the good life. ‘Surely you’ll share a glass with us, Kelsie.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘It’s a very belated birthday and I hate waste.’

Kelsie inclined her head to the waiter. ‘One glass, then. Thank you.’ What the heck. She might just need it because the vibes coming off the man beside her and even Winsome seemed strained.

It was beginning to look like Connor hadn’t been too pleased after all with the invitation his grandmother had issued. She had the sudden horrible thought that maybe he hadn’t even known she was coming until she’d arrived.

A different waiter appeared and stood poised with pen over notepad as he took Winsome’s order and then turned to her. ‘Your preference for the meal, madam?’

Kelsie looked back at the menu in her hand. ‘The broiled lobster and potato and chive whirls, thank you. And the Christmas pudding.’ He nodded and lifted a brow at Connor. ‘Sir?’

Kelsie glanced to her left out the window and counted to ten, told herself to relax, breathe, as Connor gave his order, and almost envied the freedom of the tumbling stream that ran along beside the railway line. It looked freezing outside and every now and then they passed another house with a decorated Christmas tree in their window. The cold outside would almost be preferable to the stifling atmosphere inside.

Connor had ordered, the silence lengthened, and his leg seemed to be sending off waves of heat from beside hers, until finally she turned to his grandmother with a forced smile. ‘The countryside is lovely.’

Connor was at a loss. Damn his grandmother’s meddling. He felt unexpectedly blown away by the pulsing awareness he could feel just sitting next to Kelsie and that awareness was consuming him.

But as he watched her struggle for conversation, despite his own turmoil he could feel himself soften as she tried to carry the conversation by herself. She’d always been more of an enthusiastic listener. He’d probably bored her silly over the years. He should lighten up and help her out, if only for Gran.

‘So tell us about Venice.’

He said it at the same time as she turned to him and blurted out, ‘I’m so sorry I hurt you, Connor.’

Good grief. He hadn’t expected her to go straight for the jugular. He felt his face heat, something it hadn’t done for years, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He resisted the urge to turn his head and see if anyone else had heard.

All the frustration and anger he’d damped down at the station an hour ago rose again. The last place he needed it was right here in front of everyone, and now she’d apologised he’d have to be all amenable and say that it was fine.

Well, it wasn’t! She’d gutted him. But he didn’t want to say that either, so he wasn’t going there, and hopefully, with a hint, she would just drop it.

‘Perhaps we could leave that for a less public place.’

He heard the sting in the words as soon as they were out, and regretted it. The sudden blankness of her expression almost hid her shock—but he knew it was there. A part of him even mourned the Kelsie who would have shown every emotion, but this new woman was made of sterner stuff, it seemed, and for the first time he wondered if she would give as good as she got if he really let go.

But she said, ‘Of course,’ and he watched her long fingers play with her scarf, his senses ignoring his cold logic of disliking her, and marvelled that the material was the exact colour of her eyes.

Then she smiled with apparently unruffled composure at his grandmother. ‘Venice was gorgeous with the decorations and fairy lights, wasn’t it? Where did you stay?’

They carried on the conversation without him.

CHAPTER FOUR

CONNOR WISHED NOW he had sat opposite Kelsie so he could see her face because while her profile, he had to admit, was achingly familiar, he wanted expressions and he wasn’t getting any.

Not that he deserved what He wanted after such a harsh come-back to her apology. Not at all like him to speak before he thought and be unkind. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d let his mouth get away from him. Consideration was in his life blood.

He was known for his unflustered take on the most emotive issues and that was why he did so well with infertility issues. Someone had to offer a clear mind. And keep it that way.

His grandmother was expounding on the virtues of the Hotel Cipriani, across the Grand Canal from the Doge’s Palace, and he listened with half an ear as his libido poked him and suggested that even if he didn’t want to talk about it maybe it would be a good idea to work out just why Ms Summers had left him high and dry all those years ago.

It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind once or twice since he’d last seen her.

The one time he’d tracked her down, after a mutual acquaintance had mentioned her on one of his visits back to Australia, he’d phoned and spoken to a fellow named Steve, her fiancé apparently, and that had been that.

He glanced at her bare fingers and wondered dryly who’d run away this time? Him… or her again?

Maybe she was one of those serial bride-to-bes who made a habit of leaving at the last moment.

He remembered a movie his grandmother had made him watch and steeled himself towards Kelsie again. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the past or in response to the definite attraction he could feel pounding between them, but he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else except the woman sitting so close to him.

He didn’t like that either.

‘So you spent the whole time on your own?’ The voice was his but the tone belonged to a different person. Not what he’d intended and he saw his grandmother lift her brows in reproof.

Kelsie coped admirably. ‘I joined tour groups and made friends at the hotel.’ She raised her own finely arched brows at him. ‘I’m a good mixer.’

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