His Christmas Bride

‘Harry found a stone with a face in it this morning,’ she said vaguely, her eyes intent on the children. ‘He’s wrapped it up as a present for you later, so make a big thing of it when he gives it to you, won’t you?’

‘Of course,’ Melissa said softly, taking her twin’s hand and squeezing it tight as she added, ‘You’re a star, sis, but you don’t have to stay any longer if it’s making things difficult with your work.’

‘It isn’t.’ That was the truth, but even if work had been piling up to the ceiling she wouldn’t have left. She had been shocked at how pale and washed out Melissa was. The doctors had discovered she was severely anaemic on top of having her appendix out. The result of having two sets of twins within twenty months of each other probably. Whatever, she intended to stay at least another week or so, and make sure Melissa had plenty of rest and sleep. She’d try and fit in a talk about not having to be superwoman all the time too if there was a suitable opportunity. The children wouldn’t expire on the spot if they had to have a bought loaf now and again or a microwave ready-meal.

The next morning Blossom let Melissa and Greg sleep in—Greg had looked worse than her sister the day before—while she got the children up, gave them their breakfast and took them to nursery. On her way home she visited the local supermarket and bought a load of convenience foods without the merest shred of remorse. Melissa was going to have to lighten up a bit.

As she drew off the road on reaching the house, and into the pebbled front garden which had been given over solely to parking due to the fact that Greg needed a space the size of a football pitch to park successfully, Blossom saw the silver-grey car parked next to Greg’s people-carrier and groaned softly. Zak Hamilton. Damn it. And she was in her oldest jeans and a cotton jumper that had been washed so often and become so baggy it could pass for a dress. But she had taken the time to apply some mascara that morning and curl the ends of her hair, so that the bob just skimmed her shoulders, having known she was calling in at the supermarket. Overall it was an improvement on the last time they’d met. Not a big one, but something at least. Not that it bothered her what Zak Hamilton thought of her. Not in the least. Not for a second. The very idea!

Ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that was saying nastily, ‘And pigs fly,’ she parked the car and began to lift the bags of shopping out. Along with the little voice she was determined to pay no heed to, her stomach was fluttering about as though it was host to a flock of butterflies. If butterflies came in flocks? She wasn’t sure about that.

‘Hi again.’ The deep, faintly accented voice was behind her.

She straightened up so quickly she heard her neck snap, but it was more the fact that she caught a carrier bag on something sharp in the boot, tearing it so that a can of baked beans dropped on her foot, that brought forth the exclamation of pain. Turning, she saw Zak Hamilton walking towards her.

‘Want some help with all that?’ he offered, waving a hand at the bags round her feet. ‘You look pretty loaded up.’

She would have liked to say no, but as she wasn’t an octopus it would have been rather silly. She forced a smile, wondering if her toe was broken. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely.

‘You’re very welcome.’

As he bent and picked up several of the bags, she caught a whiff of a deliciously sexy and definitely very expensive aftershave. The torn carrier-bag chose that moment to empty itself completely, and in the ensuing scramble for tins and packets of this and that Blossom got control of her breathing. Until she registered Zak crouching down, trousers pulled tight over muscled thighs as he stuffed some of the food into another bag. He was more sexy than any man had the right to be.

‘I thought Melissa cooked everything from scratch.’ He glanced up at her, a packet of cherry bakewells in his hand, and his eyes so piercingly blue their brightness made Blossom blink.

‘She does,’ Blossom said shortly, wishing he would stand up. When he obliged in the next instant she felt sufficiently in control again to add, ‘But I’m in charge for the next few days until she’s feeling a bit better.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded. ‘I wonder if they’ll get the kids back to the healthy option once they’ve tasted fish fingers and oven chips.’ He grinned at her, eyebrows raised. ‘What do you think?’

‘The odd meal like that does no harm at all.’ Even to herself she sounded schoolmarmish. ‘They’re quite nutritious.’

‘You know that and I know that, but mother love is a strange force,’ he said gravely.

He was laughing at her—again. The difference was this time she found she was having a job not to smile. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’m just the aunty.’ Picking up two bags of her own, she made for the house. There was safety in numbers.

Melissa and Greg were in the sitting room, a tray of coffee and a plate of shortbread fingers on the low oak coffee-table in front of them. Blossom paused at the open door long enough to say, ‘I’m just putting the shopping away,’ before continuing to the kitchen. A cosy foursome? Not on your life.

‘I think I got them out of bed.’

Zak had followed her, and now he dumped his bags on the breakfast bar as she glanced his way. ‘It’s half-past ten, don’t worry about it,’ she said briefly. ‘They’d slept enough.’

‘Greg made the coffee.’ It was faintly plaintive.

There was a message in there somehow, and Blossom raised her eyebrows enquiringly even as she wondered what it was about raven-haired men and pale blue shirts. Killer combination.

‘It’s as weak as dishwater.’ Zak’s eyes were laughing at her.

‘Oh dear.’ That’d teach him to call without warning. ‘I’ll put the shopping away and make some more; the other is probably cold by now, anyway.’ I’m putting shopping away—hint, hint.

He nodded. ‘Want some help?’

Even standing six feet away he was too close for comfort. Not that she thought he was going to try anything. He was far too sophisticated for anything so gauche and clumsy, she knew that. ‘No thanks. I won’t be long.’ Just go before I drop something else. Give me a few minutes to do some deep-breathing exercises.

He didn’t take the hint. Folding his arms, he leant back against the open door and watched her. It was disconcerting to say the least. Having grown up with someone as totally stunning as Melissa, she had never liked being stared at, always assuming she was being compared unfavourably to her twin. Maybe that was why she’d chosen a career behind the camera? Interesting thought, she told herself feverishly. Freud would probably have had the time of his life messing with her head. If he hadn’t been dead for eight decades, that was.

The shopping disposed of in record time—she’d never be able to find anything now—Blossom switched the kettle on and steeled herself to smile and glance at Zak as she said, ‘Shall we join the others? I’ll make the excuse about the coffee and bring the tray out.’

‘OK.’ He made no effort to move. ‘Look, I was thinking, with Melissa home after being away so long—’ he made five days sound like five lifetimes ‘—I’d imagine Greg and her would like some time to themselves in the evening once the kids are in bed. And I should think you could do with a change of scene. How about I take you for a meal somewhere tonight? Just as friends, of course. I understand how things are with you.’ He smiled lazily as though he didn’t care if she came or not.

Blossom stared at him, completely taken aback. ‘But we’re not friends,’ she pointed out gracelessly. ‘We don’t even know each other, at least not properly. You’re just Greg’s boss.’

The smile held, but the temperature dropped several degrees. ‘I’m not just anything,’ he said silkily. ‘Believe me.’

In spite of the smile Blossom knew she had hit him on the raw. ‘I didn’t mean—I wasn’t insinuating…’ She stopped. She had expressed herself incredibly badly. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that—’

‘You don’t want to go out with me. Yes, I know. But you must socialise with the male species now and again, surely?’

She was right. She had annoyed him. Dented his ego. She imagined Zak Hamilton hadn’t been turned down before, even on a friendship level. Well, why would he be?

‘Of course, if you feel Melissa’s still too ill…’

‘No, it’s not that.’ What was it with him? He had the hide of a rhinoceros. Surely he knew she didn’t want to go out—no, socialise, she corrected herself with grim humour—with him? But perhaps that was exactly why he was pushing it. Maybe he was one of those men who couldn’t resist a challenge. Not that she had intentionally set herself up as a challenge, but she’d bet her last dollar that was how he was viewing this. She didn’t buy the ‘doing Greg and Melissa a favour’ thing, men like Zak weren’t that philanthropic. Sharks in disguise.

‘So?’ Blue eyes held hers. ‘What, exactly?’

Oh, blow it, it was going to be easier all around to agree to have a meal with him this evening. She hated that she was going to shy away from further confrontation, but he was Greg’s boss, and she didn’t want to cause waves for her brother-in-law. And that was the only reason she was going to have a meal with him, she reaffirmed firmly to herself. ‘I was just thinking of Melissa and Greg,’ she lied carefully. ‘But I suppose I could see to their meal before you pick me up.’

Zak smiled. ‘I’m sure you could, Blossom.’

Blossom wasn’t sure about that smile. Was it nice or nasty? A ‘great you’re coming’ smile or a ‘knew you’d crumble’ one? Either way it was unnerving, to say the least.

‘Eight o’clock all right?’ he asked easily. ‘Enough time to feed and water all your charges?’

‘Half-past eight.’ She wasn’t going to let him think he had it all his own way. Although he had, of course. ‘It takes a while to put the children to bed after their meal and bath, and I shall need to see to Melissa and Greg’s meal too,’ she said primly. ‘Melissa is still far from well.’

Zak’s mouth twitched. ‘Fine,’ he said meekly. ‘Half-past eight it is. And I promise to not be a second early. OK?’

Wretched man.

The next half hour seemed much longer to Blossom as the four of them sat and chatted over fresh coffee and the shortbread fingers. Although, to be fair, Melissa and Greg didn’t touch the shortbread and Zak only had a couple. It was she who had eaten the rest, Blossom thought irritably when Zak stood up to go. It was a failing of hers that she always ate when she was nervous or upset. Comfort thing. And she was doubly nervous at present; Zak’s presence in itself was unnerving, but she didn’t want him to allude to their meal out together tonight until she’d had a chance to tell Melissa and Greg herself. They knew how she felt about men in general, and non-dating in particular. They’d wonder what on earth was going on if they found out before she could explain properly. If she could explain properly. Whatever properly was. She didn’t think she knew any more. Oh, darn it…

‘Thanks for the flowers,’ Melissa said to Zak as he made his goodbyes. There was a massive bouquet perched on a chair, waiting for Blossom to see to it. ‘And for the champagne.’ A bottle of the very best, by the look of it.

‘Thought you and Greg might like to celebrate your homecoming,’ Zak said lazily. He turned to Blossom. ‘You could put it on ice before I pick you up tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ Melissa honed in, looking hard at Blossom.

‘Zak’s taking me out for a meal tonight.’ Blossom’s eyes told her twin to leave well alone as she ushered Zak into the hall. A ‘you ignore this at your peril’ kind of look.

He paused at the front door, his wickedly long black lashes shading the expression in his eyes, so they were unclear as he said, ‘I don’t think your sister altogether approves of me.’

Considering Melissa and Greg’s livelihood was tied up with Zak, Blossom felt she couldn’t give an honest answer to that one. Privately she agreed with him. ‘Really?’ She hoped she looked innocently surprised. ‘Why is that?’ she asked carefully.

‘Just an impression.’

He didn’t sound as if he was bothered, but then why would he be? He was holding all the cards. ‘I’m sure that’s not the case,’ she said briskly, opening the door. ‘See you later, then.’

He pulled out a pair of expensive sunglasses and stepped into the bright July sunlight, walking to the car and sliding into the luxurious interior without glancing behind him. This time she watched him leave, raising her hand when he waved at her. She stood for some moments after the sound of the engine had faded away, her head whirling. Somehow she had promised to go out with Zak Hamilton tonight. It would have seemed an impossibility when she had woken up that morning, but it had happened. This was not good. This was so not good.

A movement behind her brought her head turning to Melissa, who was standing in the sitting-room doorway, a worried expression on her face. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I don’t like the idea of you seeing Zak,’ her sister said, straight to the point as always. ‘He’s not for you, Blossom.’

Blossom shut the front door. ‘It’s not like you think.’

‘Blossom, the man’s a dyed-in-the-wool bachelor with a different woman for each day of the week. He makes no secret of it. In fact, according to the grapevine, he makes a point of spelling it out to any woman he sees so they don’t get the wrong idea. Of course, most of them fall for him hook, line and sinker nonetheless.’ Melissa’s tone was scathing.

‘Melissa, this really isn’t what you’re thinking.’

‘He could charm the birds out of the trees, I’ve seen him in action, but Greg says he can be as hard as iron in business when it’s necessary. And if he can be like that in business…’

‘Come and sit down and let me explain,’ Blossom said patiently, taking her sister’s arm and leading her to the sofa beside Greg. ‘You’ve got the wrong idea.’

‘Greg thinks I’ve got a down on Zak, but it’s not that, not really,’ Melissa began again before Blossom had a chance to say more. ‘It’s just that men like him eat ordinary people up and spit them out for breakfast. Greg’s useful to him at the moment, but I keep telling him that if that changed he’d be out on his ear and Zak wouldn’t give it a second thought.’

‘Melissa, I’m not saying I think you’re wrong—just the opposite, in fact.’ Blossom jumped in when her sister paused for breath. ‘But this meal tonight is not a date, not in the traditional sense. It’s purely platonic, I assure you.’

‘Oh, Blossom, don’t be so naïve.’

‘No, I mean it. Really. He actually said he wanted to give you and Greg an evening to yourselves and that he was taking me out purely as a friend. OK? He said that.’

‘And you believed it? Kiddo, it’s the oldest line in the book when a wolf sees a juicy little lamb.’

‘I’m not a juicy little anything.’ She didn’t think she’d ever been juicy, even before Dean. ‘And I’m hardly what you’d call his type anyway. I’m sure he goes for long-legged model types with interesting cheekbones and a clothing allowance to die for. Am I right, Greg?’ She glanced at her brother-in-law, but didn’t wait for him to reply before she went on, ‘Anyway, I told him I am not dating. I laid it absolutely on the line. My career’s all that matters, he knows that.’

‘Then how come you’re going out with him tonight?’ Melissa asked reasonably. ‘The two things don’t add up, sis.’

‘I told you, it’s purely platonic.’

Melissa gave one of her snorts. They were legendary within the family, and had always said far more than words could express.

‘It is, believe me.’ Blossom was getting exasperated.

‘I believe you might think so, but you’re wrong, Blossom. The man’s a walking sex machine; you only have to look at him to see that. He can cause the juices to flow without even trying.’

‘Melissa!’ Greg was shocked.

‘Oh, I don’t mean I’m attracted to him,’ Melissa said quickly. ‘I love you, you know that, but I have got eyes in my head, Greg, and your boss is…well…’

‘She means unattached women would find him drop-dead gorgeous,’ Blossom said drily when her sister ran out of words.

‘There, you see, you do fancy him,’ Melissa said triumphantly. ‘And you mustn’t, Blossom. This going out with him is a bad idea.’

‘You’ve been telling me for the last couple of years that I should date again,’ Blossom pointed out. In fact, her sister had waxed lyrical on the subject until they’d nearly fallen out about it and had had to agree to disagree. And not so long ago, either.

‘Date, yes, even get involved if the man in question is right for you, but Zak Hamilton…I can’t think of anyone worse. He’s too…too much of everything.’

They agreed on that at least, then. ‘Melissa, I have no intention of seeing Zak again after tonight,’ Blossom said very firmly. ‘I promise, OK? This was just the easy way out tonight. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I couldn’t be bothered to argue. It was simpler all round to say yes.’

Melissa stared unhappily at her twin. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘I mean it. I don’t like him, to be honest. He’s too…’ Blossom couldn’t find the words to describe Zak Hamilton. ‘Too much of everything, like you said,’ she finished weakly.

‘I just don’t want you hurt again, that’s all,’ Melissa said woefully. ‘You’re not a toughie like his other women.’

‘I’m not keen on the idea myself.’

‘And, you’re right, I do think you ought to start dating. There are lots of lovely men out there who would give their eye teeth to have someone like you,’ Melissa said earnestly. ‘Men like Greg, who are gorgeous but still real family-men and completely faithful to one woman. Good, honest, reliable men.’

Greg preened.

Blossom didn’t like to point out that, perfect though Greg was for her twin, he would drive her mad after ten minutes. Instead, she smiled, saying, ‘We’ve done this one to death before, sis. And you’re looking tired; I think you ought to go for a nap. You don’t want to overdo it now you’re back home.’

Greg was instantly all concern as Blossom had known he would be. Between them they managed to persuade Melissa to go and lie down, and Greg led her sister out of the room as though any sudden movement would cause her to break.

Blossom carried the coffee cups through to the kitchen, but instead of loading the dishwasher she stood gazing idly at the blue sky dotted with cotton-wool clouds. In truth the conversation with Melissa had unnerved her more than a little. It was stupid to go out with Zak Hamilton tonight, be it on a friendship basis or whatever else. A bit like sticking your head in the jaws of a crocodile and not expecting it to do what crocodiles did.

She made a sound of deep irritation in her throat. She wasn’t going to think about all this right now. She was going to fetch her nieces and nephew from nursery once she’d finished the chores here and then fix lunch for everyone. This afternoon she would take the children to the nearby water-park. She’d keep busy and active and not allow herself to dwell on the evening ahead for one moment. And when it came she’d play it by ear. She was getting this all out of proportion, for goodness’ sake. The man had asked her out for a meal, no strings attached, no expectations. And after tonight she’d probably never run into him again.

‘No probably about it.’ She watched a tiny blue-tit hanging from a nut holder. He was having the most marvelous time. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’

Why was she standing here talking to herself? Tut-tutting again, she loaded the dishwasher, cleaned the kitchen floor, did a couple of other chores, and then picked up the car keys from the coffee table and went to fetch the children.

CHAPTER THREE

‘SO WHAT are you going to wear?’

The children had been fed, read to and were now fast asleep. The stuffed shoulder of lamb Blossom had bought ready-prepared earlier that day was cooking gently in the oven, and Greg had instructions when to put the roasted vegetables in to join it. She had bought a raspberry trifle for pudding, so that was simple enough. Having bathed, and with her wet hair turban-style in a handtowel, Blossom was standing looking at her meagre wardrobe when Melissa drifted into the room.

‘I thought you were sitting having a glass of wine before dinner!’ Blossom accused. ‘Relaxing with your husband?’

‘I was. I shall be again soon. So, what are you going to wear tonight?’ Melissa repeated.

‘There’s not a lot of choice.’ When Greg had called to say Melissa had been rushed into hospital, Blossom had grabbed whatever was handy and stuffed it willy-nilly into a suitcase. ‘I only brought two dresses with me. I’ve got jeans and shorts and T-shirts, of course. And a pair of trousers I bought last year.’

Melissa dismissed these with a wave of her hand. ‘I like that dress,’ she said, pointing to a cream-and-caramel flowered frock with spaghetti straps. ‘Those colours look good on you.’

The dress was fine, but she hadn’t brought anything to go with it, and although it was July the evenings could still turn chilly when the sun went down. When she voiced this, though, Melissa’s eyes lit up. ‘Wait there.’ She was back in two minutes, holding a cream ruche-cashmere cardigan and a pair of high wedge-heeled mules in the same colour. ‘Bought these a couple of weeks ago to go with a pink dress I’m wearing for a wedding next month,’ she said happily. ‘You can borrow my diamond bracelet and studs, too, they’d look perfect with this.’

‘I can’t wear these when you haven’t even worn them yet,’ Blossom protested. ‘What if I spill something down the cardy?’

‘When you’ve been an absolute angel, shooting down here and looking after everyone for days on end? I think so,’ Melissa said firmly. ‘Ooh, and I’ve some gorgeous nail varnish, “opal fire”, to set those mules off. Twinkling toes and all that.’

‘Melissa, this isn’t a date.’ If she had been feeling panicky before her sister had come in, she felt a hundred times worse now.

‘I know, I know,’ Melissa said soothingly. ‘But you can’t go out with a man like Zak and look anything less than perfectly turned out. Not with the sort of women he’s seen with.’

Funny, but that didn’t help.

At eight-twenty-five Blossom was ready. She had sent Melissa downstairs a long time before this; her sister had been in danger of reducing her to a gibbering wreck.

Blossom stood staring at herself in the bedroom mirror. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken such trouble with her appearance, but it had been worth it. The divorce had robbed her of her self-confidence so badly she’d only wanted to melt into the woodwork when she’d gone out since then. And that wasn’t like her. From a child she had always been the chatty, adventurous one, probably to compensate for not matching up to Melissa in looks, although she hadn’t realised this until all the heart searching since Dean had left her. But tonight she didn’t look too bad. Pretty good, in fact. Passable, at least.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.