Читать книгу Mistletoe Magic - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 13

‘I’M JUST going into town to pick up a few things Crys forgot to get.’ David told them shortly after lunch. ‘Anyone fancy coming for a drive with me?’

Sam had gone back upstairs to sit with Crys and Peter, taking some soup and bread up on a tray for his wife, leaving Molly with very little to do this afternoon apart from wrapping those two extra Christmas presents—which certainly wasn’t going to take very long—and, of course, providing Gideon with a convenient target to vent his sarcastic humour on.

‘You go ahead, Molly,’ he invited now, barely glancing up from the newspaper he was reading as he sat at the kitchen table. ‘I’ll stay here in case Sam and Crys need anything.’

Her cheeks flushed angrily; as if she needed his permission to do anything. Or to be made to feel guilty because she felt the need to get outside in the fresh air—away from him—for a while.

‘What the…?’ Gideon rasped before Molly could think of a suitably cutting reply to his sarcasm, his attention suddenly riveted on the newspaper he had merely been glancing through before.

‘What is it?’ Molly frowned at him worriedly.

‘Hmm,’ David murmured distractedly, having glanced over Gideon’s shoulder at the newspaper. ‘It’s a good photograph of us all, but…’

‘Exactly—but!’ Gideon muttered angrily, standing up, with the newspaper now tightly gripped between his hands. ‘I don’t think either Sam or Crys are going to like this.’ He frowned darkly.

‘What is it?’ Molly repeated agitatedly, moving to look at the newspaper herself now.

What she saw there made her breath catch in her throat.

The christening on Sunday had been a completely private family and friends affair, but the photograph in this newspaper meant that at least one member of the press had found out about it. Not only had they found out about it, they had obviously hidden somewhere and taken a photograph of them all as they were leaving the church. The proud parents stood in the midst of Gideon, David and Molly, and all of them were named in the caption beneath the photograph…

‘Oh, no!’ Molly gasped her dismay, knowing exactly how much Sam was going to hate this.

Twelve years ago his life had been made a living hell because of his ex-fiancée and the lies she had told the press about him, to the extent that he had chosen to hide himself away here in the wilds of Yorkshire. His marriage to Crys almost two years ago had helped to soften his attitude, but certainly not to the extent that he would be happy to have his photograph plastered all over the newspapers. Or that of his newborn son…

‘Damn it,’ Gideon muttered grimly. ‘Why the hell can’t they leave them alone?’

‘Because it’s news.’ David shrugged philosophically. ‘I had the same problem when—when Cathy died six months ago.’ He shook his head. ‘If it’s news, they’ll print it; good or bad.’

‘This is definitely bad,’ Molly said heavily. ‘Especially now, when Crys and Sam are already so distracted over Peter.’ She frowned. ‘I think perhaps you had better lose that newspaper, Gideon,’ she advised worriedly. ‘Tell Crys, if she asks, that we weren’t able to find one.’

‘Don’t worry, I intend to,’ he assured her grimly. ‘I also intend finding out who gave them this story in the first place.’ He threw the newspaper down on the table in disgust.

‘Who gave it to them…?’ Molly repeated frowningly. ‘You think someone actually told them about the christening?’

‘Well, of course someone told them,’ he rasped disgustedly. ‘And after years of Sam keeping his whereabouts a secret, that damned newspaper has also stated if not the actual address then the exact location of this house.’

Molly could only stare at him, her cheeks white with dismay. After his experience with his ex-fiancée, Sam had good reason to value his privacy. Even more so since he had married Crys and they had baby Peter. As Molly had already said, this newspaper article could only be bad news.

‘But who would do such a thing?’ She shook her head dazedly.

‘Yes—who would do such a thing?’ Gideon grated coldly.

Molly looked up sharply, finding herself caught in the sudden glitter of that dark blue gaze.

He didn’t think—? Surely he didn’t believe that she had had anything to do with this outrage?

‘The new Bailey series, and the people starring in it, is mentioned several times in the accompanying article,’ Gideon bit out tersely.

Accusingly…?

But she would never… Could never…

Gideon could have no idea of the disruption that had occurred in her own and their parents’ lives twelve years ago, because of the vindictiveness of Sam’s ex-fiancée. The constant hounding by the press, her parents actually having to move house, Molly having to change schools in an attempt to shield her from all the adverse publicity. The new school was where she had met Crys and the two of them had become such good friends…

But that was Gideon’s real problem, wasn’t it? Crys… Molly was very fond of Crys herself, but Gideon seemed to care only about her, about protecting her…

‘I think I will come for that drive with you after all, David,’ she told him woodenly, deliberately keeping her gaze averted from Gideon. She sensed he was still looking at her. But she had to get out of here, or this time she really would have to hit him!

‘Great.’ David grinned his satisfaction with the arrangement. ‘And I shouldn’t worry too much about that newspaper, Gideon,’ he advised ruefully. ‘It’s Christmas; by the time the holidays are over everyone will have forgotten all about it.’

Molly wasn’t so sure about that, and she could see by the continued grimness of his expression that Gideon wasn’t convinced, either. But with it being Christmas Day tomorrow there really was nothing they could do about it now. And Gideon throwing out wild accusations—completely erroneous ones—certainly wasn’t going to help the situation! But, by the same token, neither was her reacting angrily to them…

Which was why it was better if Molly removed herself from his company for the moment. Better for Gideon, that was. For herself, Molly would have liked to set him straight over several matters. For Crys and Sam’s sake she would keep her own counsel. For the moment…

‘I certainly hope so.’ Gideon nodded abruptly.

‘Ready, Molly?’ David prompted lightly.

She was more than ready to remove herself from the odious Gideon’s company, not even bothering to say goodbye to him as she followed David out of the house.

Really, Gideon seemed to think she was to blame for everything that happened. Everything bad, that was.

But who could it have been who’d told the press about the christening? Because it certainly hadn’t been her!

‘Cheer up,’ David advised lightly after they had driven in silence for several minutes. ‘It may never happen!’

‘It already has happened,’ she returned gloomily. ‘Surely you must realise Gideon thinks I told the press about the christening?’

‘He doesn’t think that really,’ David assured her with a grin. ‘He’s only off with you because he likes you.’

‘You have to be joking!’ Molly spluttered.

‘I didn’t say he was happy about it,’ David accepted slowly. ‘But he does like you.’ He nodded with certainty. ‘And a little jealousy because you’ve come out with me this afternoon can’t be a bad thing!’

Molly shook her head in disbelief. ‘You’re being as ridiculous as Crys now,’ she dismissed disgustedly. ‘I don’t like Gideon.’ Even less so now. ‘And he doesn’t like me. End of story,’ she told David firmly.

‘Sure,’ he accepted unconvincingly.

‘I mean it, David.’ She gave him a warning glare. ‘The sooner Christmas is over and I can get as far away from Gideon as it’s possible to be, the better I shall like it.’

He gave her a brief narrow-eyed glance. ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much…’

‘Will you just stop it?’ Molly’s hands were clenched tightly in her lap. ‘The man is absolutely loathsome!’ she stated determinedly, clearly remembering the accusation in his gaze earlier.

Except she couldn’t quite deny—to herself, at least—her completely nerve-tingling awareness of Gideon.

But just because she was physically aware of him that didn’t mean she had to like the man.

Of course it didn’t.

Except now she was protesting too much. Damn it. And most of all damn Gideon Webber.

‘I quite like him myself,’ David said slowly. ‘And he’s obviously very fond of Crys.’

‘Perhaps too fond,’ Molly snapped before she had time to guard her words, and at once felt stricken at having spoken quite so bluntly.

She liked David, would be working very closely with him in future months, but that was no reason to have voiced her inner suspicions concerning Gideon’s feelings towards Crys.

Her cheeks felt warm with embarrassed colour. ‘What I meant to say was—’

‘Forget it, Molly.’ David reached over and briefly squeezed her arm. ‘It’s an interesting concept, I grant you that,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘But not one I should put too much credence in, if I were you,’ he dismissed.

‘No,’ she accepted gratefully. She really would have to be more careful about making unguarded comments about Gideon. To anyone.

‘I mean it, Molly.’ David gave her a warm glance. ‘Try thinking about it from Gideon’s point of view—’

‘Do I have to?’ She grimaced.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in gentle reproof. ‘From what I can gather, Crys is the only family Gideon has left. She is family, Molly,’ he insisted softly as she looked sceptical. ‘His parents both died years ago, and Crys was married to Gideon’s younger brother. That brother is now dead, too. All Gideon has left of that relationship is Crys.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s how I see it, anyway. I’m still extremely close to Cathy’s parents,’ he added huskily.

It was one way of looking at things, granted. But Molly wasn’t convinced it was the right way as far as Gideon’s feelings towards Crys were concerned…

Although it was definitely preferable to believing the man she was so attracted to was in love with another woman. Been there, done that.

‘Before you start again, I did not tell any member of the press about the christening on Sunday,’ Molly told Gideon defensively when she turned to find him standing grim-faced behind her as she set about preparing their evening meal. Crys was still totally occupied upstairs with the less-than-happy Peter.

His gaze narrowed. ‘I—’ He broke off as the telephone on the kitchen wall began to ring. ‘Would you mind answering that?’ he said slowly.

Molly looked from him down to her wet hands, where she was peeling potatoes, and then back at Gideon. ‘It may have escaped your notice, but I’m a little busy at the moment!’ she snapped irritably; in fact up to her arms in it was the description that readily came to mind.

Not that she at all minded preparing an evening meal in Crys’s absence. In fact, she was more than pleased to have something to do. But at the same time she did not intend being harassed by Gideon. And the still-ringing telephone, like Gideon himself, was starting to grate on her nerves.

Gideon drew in a sharp breath. ‘If I say please…?’ he suggested tightly.

Molly blinked; that would certainly be a novelty. ‘Well?’ she pushed dryly when he made no effort to do so.

His eyes flared deeply blue. ‘Please,’ he finally bit out, through gritted teeth.

‘Testy, testy,’ Molly taunted as she moved to dry her hands before snatching up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ she prompted lightly.

Her query was met by silence. Not the silence of a call ended, but that slightly static silence that said the line was still open.

‘Hello?’ she said more strongly. ‘Is there anyone there?’ Her voice was sharp now. She was more and more convinced that there was someone on the end of the line. She could almost hear their breathing…

In answer to her last query there was a faint click on the line, the dialling tone immediately following.

Molly slowly put down the receiver before turning sharply to look at Gideon. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded to know.

‘I have no idea.’ He shrugged abruptly. ‘But that’s the third call like that since you left with David this afternoon. I wanted you to answer it this time to see if you got the same response I did when I answered the last two.’

‘Hanging up?’ Molly said slowly.

‘Exactly,’ Gideon confirmed grimly, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Obviously the call wasn’t meant for you, either,’ he added frowningly.

Molly shook her head. ‘Maybe it was just a wrong number?’

‘Three times in as many hours?’ Gideon said sceptically.

‘It could be.’ She shrugged dismissively, more interested in cooking dinner for them all than worrying about hang-up calls.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Molly,’ he snapped.

Her eyes widened indignantly. ‘I’m being ridiculous?’ she repeated incredulously. ‘Every time something bad happens around here you automatically assume I have to somehow be involved. No doubt you think I’m somehow responsible for these calls, too?’ she challenged scathingly.

‘Hardly, when you’re standing right here beside me,’ he returned harshly.

She shook her head disgustedly. ‘I suppose that’s one thing in my favour.’

Gideon drew in a harsh breath, obviously controlling his temper with effort. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I was wrong earlier, concerning that article in the newspaper…’

‘Are you?’ Molly’s eyes flashed disbelievingly. ‘Are you really?’ she repeated.

‘Yes,’ he hissed, his jaw tightly clenched, eyes darkly blue in his pale, strained face.

Molly frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘Do you think those calls could be from another reporter after a story? Or possibly even the same one?’ she added hardly.

‘They could be, I suppose,’ Gideon said slowly. ‘Although why would they keep hanging up in that way?’

Molly shrugged. ‘Because it isn’t Crys or Sam answering the calls?’

‘But how would they know that?’ Gideon didn’t look convinced by this theory.

Neither was Molly, if the truth were known, but she couldn’t think of any other explanation for them. Unless they really were just wrong numbers…

‘I’ve disposed of the newspaper, by the way,’ he added harshly.

‘I never had any doubts that you would,’ Molly returned with obvious sarcasm.

‘Molly—’

‘Gideon,’ she interrupted firmly. ‘It may have escaped your notice, but I’m trying to cook dinner for all of us.’ She indicated the potatoes she had been peeling, and the duck sitting in the baking tray waiting to go in the Aga.

He frowned for several seconds, and then his attention shifted to the partly prepared food. Amusement glittered in those dark blue eyes when his gaze finally returned to hers. ‘Do you actually know how to cook?’ That amusement was reflected in his mocking tone.

Christmas is a time of ‘peace and goodwill to all men’, Molly, she reminded herself firmly. And one thing she had learnt about Gideon Webber these last few days—he was definitely a man.

She drew in a controlling breath. ‘More than you do, I’m sure,’ she told him with determined control; the duck would be much better cooked and then enjoyed by them all than aimed at this man’s arrogant head.

‘I’m sure, too,’ he conceded with an acknowledging tilt of his head. ‘The only thing I know about cooking is that one should keep the chef readily supplied with wine. Red or white?’ he offered lightly.

Molly stared at him incredulously. Just when she thought she really detested this man, he did something nice. Throwing her into complete confusion.

As if she wasn’t confused enough already. She had every reason to loathe and detest this man, and yet every time he walked into a room she was physically totally aware of him.

Like now!

‘Red, thanks,’ she accepted stiltedly, before turning sharply away to bend down and put the duck in the oven. ‘And, just to put your mind at rest about the cooking,’ she told him, ‘when I was “resting” about five years ago…’ her tone was dry, as she knew that Gideon would be as aware as anyone else that the term ‘resting’, when applied to an actor, actually meant ‘out of work’ ‘…I helped Crys out in the kitchen of her restaurant. I’m sure it won’t be up to her standard, but—Oh!’ She had turned to find Gideon standing only inches away from her, and was suddenly breathless as she stared up into eyes the colour of a clear midnight sky.

‘Oh, indeed,’ Gideon murmured huskily, making no effort to give her the glass of wine he held in his hand.

Time seemed to stand still. The house was unusually quiet, with only the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall beside them to tell them of the passing of time. Even Merlin was quiet as he dozed in front of the Aga.

Molly’s mouth had gone dry, and colour warmed her cheeks as she saw Gideon’s dark gaze follow the movement of her tongue across her lips.

She could barely breathe, was aware of Gideon with every sense and nerve of her body—aware of him in a way she had never been aware of any man before.

What would he say, this man who believed she had been his brother James’s mistress, if the two of them were ever to make love and he discovered that she had never had a lover—that, at twenty-nine, she was still a virgin?

Well, that particular solution might be a little drastic—but at least he would know that his suspicions concerning herself and James were completely unfounded.

‘Why are you smiling in that “I know something you don’t” way?’ Gideon prompted huskily, his dark gaze once again warily guarded.

It completely broke the moment of shared intimacy…

Thank goodness.

Molly sighed as she stepped thankfully away. ‘I was merely wondering when you were going to give me my glass of wine,’ she invented pointedly, at the same time drawing in deeply controlling breaths, completely flustered by these moments of intense intimacy she seemed to be sharing with Gideon more and more.

In the future—for the next three days, in fact—the less time she spent alone with Gideon, the better she would like it.

He looked down frowningly at the glass he still held, as if surprised to see it there in his hand. ‘What can I do to help?’ he offered abruptly, at the same time putting the glass of wine down on the worktop beside her.

Leave the kitchen and give her a few moments’ respite from his totally evocative company seemed like a good idea to Molly right now.

Although, from the efficient way he picked up the vegetable knife and looked at her expectantly, she didn’t think that suggestion was going to work. ‘Finish the potatoes for me, if you will,’ she dismissed airily, determinedly turning her own attention to preparing Brussels sprouts with almonds.

Molly wasn’t under any illusions that the silence between them was in the least comfortable. She knew that just one word—the wrong word—could trigger hostilities between them once again.

Peace and goodwill—ha!