Читать книгу Mistletoe Magic - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 15

CHAPTER EIGHT

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‘YOU look gorgeous!’ David told her admiringly as she entered the sitting-room a short time later to join the others for a pre-dinner drink. ‘Like Mrs Christmas, in fact,’ he added teasingly, obviously having got over his upset of earlier.

Or else he was just hiding it well…

Molly understood what he meant about the knee-length, figure-hugging Chinese-style red dress she was wearing this evening; it was a bright poppy-red that someone was sure to say didn’t go with her copper-red hair.

Although Gideon seemed unusually quiet this evening, standing broodingly beside the fireplace, looking elegantly attractive in his black dinner suit and snowy white shirt. And as remote and cold as a statue as his gaze briefly met hers.

Molly quickly averted her own gaze, turning to smile at Sam as he handed her a glass of champagne. ‘What are we celebrating?’ she teased.

‘The slightly late start of Christmas,’ he returned ruefully. ‘Diana is upstairs with Crys right now, checking on Peter, but she assured us that Peter really doesn’t have chickenpox, and that he is much better already,’ he added with satisfaction.

‘That’s wonderful,’ Molly said with relief. ‘Definitely worth drinking to.’ She took a sip of the bubbly wine, without looking at Gideon this time to see if he was watching her. She had a feeling that looking at Gideon was going to be quite hard to do after that earlier scene in her bedroom.

‘Where’s Merlin?’ she prompted, with nothing better to say.

Sam arched a mocking brow. ‘Where do you think?’

She smiled. ‘Upstairs, keeping watch over Peter.’

‘Right first time!’ Sam grinned. ‘I—’ He broke off as they heard the telephone ring in the kitchen. ‘Now, who could that be—telephoning on Christmas Eve?’ He frowned.

‘I’ll go; it could be the parents,’ Molly told him quickly, putting down her wineglass to hurry across the room, not wanting anything to spoil this time for Sam and Crys now that the worry over Peter was apparently at an end. Something she couldn’t guarantee if it should be another one of those hang-up calls.

‘I’ll answer it,’ Gideon told her gruffly, and the two of them reached the sitting-room door at the same time.

Molly felt the colour warm her cheeks, not quite able to meet that piercing blue gaze as she looked up at him. ‘Fine,’ she accepted huskily, turning quickly away so that he shouldn’t see how even being near him like this affected her after what had happened between them earlier.

Because, despite Gideon’s anger, his forcefulness, Molly knew that part of her had wanted to respond to his kisses, that she had wanted to kiss away his anger, to know the deeply sensual man she sensed below that surface of fury.

Ridiculous when everything Gideon said, everything he did, told her of his contempt for her. He—

‘Penny for them…?’ David prompted as he moved to stand beside her, putting her glass of champagne back in her hand.

She gave a sad shake of her head. ‘I can’t make any sense of them, so why should you?’

David gave a rueful shrug. ‘We’re a strange collection of people, aren’t we?’ he murmured ruefully as Diana Chisholm and Crys entered the sitting-room. Both women smiled at Sam as he turned to them enquiringly. ‘There’s Crys and Sam, obviously the centre of this motley crew—’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Molly cut in teasingly.

He gave a nod of acknowledgement. ‘And there’s baby Peter, too, of course. Then there’s Dr Chisholm: beautiful, probably only in her thirties, but obviously dedicated to her career. Then there’s you: Sam’s sister, Crys’s friend, the only one of us who’s really entitled to share this family Christmas. And there’s me, of course, recently widowed, fighting shy of being anywhere that’s going to remind me of Cathy and the Christmases we spent together.’ He smiled self-derisively.

‘Don’t.’ She put a sympathetic hand on his arm. ‘Don’t do this to yourself, David,’ she urged. Though at the same time she was curious as to what his explanation would be for Gideon’s presence here…

But as Crys brought Diana Chisholm over to formally introduce her to the two of them Molly knew she wasn’t going to hear David’s opinion of Gideon being there. Pity. That might have been worth hearing.

Where was Gideon? It had been some time since he went to answer the telephone call, so what was keeping him?

‘Excuse me,’ she murmured before slipping away, confident she could leave the slightly melancholy David in Crys’s more than capable hands.

She found Gideon in the kitchen, standing in front of the window, staring out, supposedly, up at the starlit sky. She came to a halt in the doorway, not sure whether or not she should intrude on what was obviously a moment of privacy. She decided not.

‘Makes you realise how insignificant we all are, doesn’t it?’ Gideon murmured just as she would have turned and walked quietly away. He turned to face her, his face partly in shadow. ‘The stars,’ he explained at her puzzled look. ‘Did you know that some of them have died, completely disappeared, before their glow is even apparent to the human eye? Quite—’

‘Have you and David both forgotten to take your happy pills this evening?’ Molly cut in pragmatically. ‘You’re both so introspective I think you must have done!’ she explained as his eyes widened. Inwardly, she wondered how he had known she was standing in the doorway, sure that her high-heeled shoes hadn’t made any noise as she walked down the thickly carpeted hallway. Eyes in the back of his head, probably; he certainly didn’t seem to miss much.

Gideon continued to look at her for several seconds, and then his mouth began to twitch, his eyes to glow with suppressed laughter. ‘If it happens again we can always rely on you to bring us back down to earth, can’t we?’ He was openly chuckling now.

She shrugged dismissively, not sure it was actually a compliment, but deciding to accept it as such. ‘Who was on the telephone just now?’ she prompted lightly; at least they weren’t arguing for once.

‘My assistant.’ He grimaced. ‘A client wants me to fly to Vienna the day after Christmas.’

“‘All work and no play”,’ Molly quoted dismissively, suddenly wondering if his assistant was female, and also if their relationship was just business orientated. Surely it was a little unusual for an assistant to track you down at someone else’s house on Christmas Eve, of all days, just to tell you about a commission?

Just as quickly she admonished herself for even thinking such a thing. What difference could it possibly make to her whether or not Gideon’s relationship with his assistant was purely business—or his relationship with any other woman, for that matter?

‘Not this time.’ Gideon shook his head firmly. ‘I’m fully booked until at least Easter; this client will just have to take a number.’

James, she knew, had been an extremely popular interior designer, but the name Gideon Webber had been in vogue long before James had come on the scene. Obviously his designs were still sought after.

‘Come on,’ Gideon said firmly, crossing the room in three strides. ‘Let’s go and join the others.’ He took a firm hold of her elbow. ‘And David was right, by the way,’ he murmured as they approached the sitting-room. ‘You do look gorgeous in that dress,’ he enlarged at her questioning look.

Molly was so stunned at the unexpectedness of the compliment that she stopped dead in the hallway, looking up at him with widely surprised eyes.

She had taken great care with her appearance after a glance in the wardrobe mirror in her bedroom had confirmed her earlier suspicions that she looked a mess. She had showered and washed and styled her hair so that it fell in soft russet waves past her shoulders. Her makeup was golden, with the merest hint of green shadow on her lids, the lipgloss a perfect match in shade for the dress.

But the last thing she had expected was that Gideon would be complimentary about her appearance.

He was looking at her quizzically now, and Molly spoke quickly to bridge the awkwardness. ‘You’re looking pretty good yourself,’ she said bluntly, at once cringing inwardly at her less-than-sophisticated answer.

He gave another grin, suddenly looking roguish. ‘Well, at least you and I have taken our polite pills this evening,’ he murmured dryly, before his expression darkened. ‘Molly, I’m afraid things got rather out of hand earlier, and—’

‘Please,’ she cut in abruptly, no longer able to meet his gaze. ‘Let’s just forget about it.’

His head tilted towards her, his face only inches away from her own now, his hand beneath her chin so that she had no choice but to look at him. ‘Can we do that?’ he prompted huskily.

Well, she certainly couldn’t—not when a part of her still burned to know where those kisses might have led if she hadn’t stopped them so abruptly.

‘Of course we can,’ she assured him brittlely. ‘It’s Christmas,’ she announced, with the same determination she had earlier. ‘And we should all try to be nice to each other at Christmas.’

His mouth twisted derisively. ‘I admire your sentiments—even if I think them somewhat ambitious.’

Especially where the two of them were concerned…

‘Yes. Well.’ She gave a rueful shrug. “‘Go for it” has always been my motto. Now, I suggest we do join the others,’ she added briskly, stepping away from him, her chin tingling from his touch. ‘Before our polite pills wear off.’

To her surprise Gideon laughed out loud this time. Looking so attractive when he did so that Molly’s breath caught in her throat.

‘You know…’ he sobered slightly, shaking his head ‘…you aren’t quite what I thought you were going to be.’ This last came out in a slightly puzzled voice, as if he was surprised at the admission.

‘I’m not?’ Molly said warily.

He grimaced. ‘No.’

She shrugged. ‘Actually, I don’t think I’m what you thought I was at all. But that’s just my personal opinion, you understand?’ she added dryly.

Gideon looked at her frowningly for several long seconds before once more taking a firm hold of her arm and opening the sitting-room door. ‘Let’s, as we’ve both already suggested, join the others,’ he said grimly.

Molly wasn’t sure what the state of play was between herself and Gideon after this latest exchange, but at least it helped to make the Christmas Eve dinner more enjoyable for all of them. The two of them were no longer snapping at each other, and even David seemed to have shaken off his mood of despondency as he conversed with Diana Chisholm about her work.

In fact, the dinner passed off quite enjoyably, with everyone complimenting her on her cooking. Molly was pleased by their compliments, while at the same time assuring them that Crys would have done a better job of it.

Even Peter joined them for a while when they reached the cheese and port stage of the meal, seeming much happier now, despite the sprinkling of spots on his delicate baby skin.

It certainly wasn’t the time for the telephone to ring intrusively for the sixth time today.

‘I’ll go this time,’ Molly said determinedly, even as she stood up, having already sensed Gideon’s sudden tension as he sat beside her at the table. ‘At this time of night it’s sure to be a wrong number,’ she added, after a dismissive glance at her wristwatch.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Gideon put in abruptly, also standing up.

‘There’s no need,’ Molly assured him with a warning glare; someone was going to suspect something if the two of them kept jumping up like this every time the telephone rang.

Especially as she wasn’t really sure herself that there was any need for them to do so…

‘I need to make a call myself,’ he insisted firmly, following her from the room.

Molly turned to glare at him as she hurried to the kitchen to answer the telephone. ‘You do realise that everyone is going to start speculating about the way we keep disappearing off together like this,’ she snapped impatiently.

‘Let them,’ he came back harshly, lifting the receiver from the wall before Molly could even reach for it. ‘Hello? No, this isn’t Sam,’ he answered slowly, giving Molly a raised eyebrow at actually receiving a response this time. ‘Would you like me to—? Damn it,’ he rasped, holding the receiver away from his ear before slamming it back on the wall. ‘She rang off,’ he muttered impatiently.

‘She?’ Molly prompted frowningly.

‘She.’ Gideon nodded grimly.

Molly eyed him warily. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked slowly, very much afraid that the temporary truce between them was about to come to an end.

‘Because Sam isn’t here for me to look at him like that,’ Gideon snapped, moving abruptly away from her to start pacing up and down the kitchen.

Molly watched him for several seconds, not at all sure she knew what was going on—she certainly had no idea what Gideon was thinking behind that grimly set mask.

She frowned. ‘Gideon—’

‘What does your brother think he’s playing at?’ Gideon bit out angrily, his eyes glittering deeply blue. ‘Isn’t a beautiful wife like Crys and a newborn son enough for him?’

‘Well, of course it’s… Gideon, what are you implying?’ Molly stiffened indignantly as she began to get an inkling of exactly what Gideon was saying.

He continued his pacing. ‘It’s the usual scenario, isn’t it? The mistress telephoning her lover over Christmas because he’s spending time with his family and she feels left out—’

‘Now, hold on just a minute,’ Molly exploded incredulously. He couldn’t really think that Sam…?

‘Do you have another explanation for the way this woman keeps ringing off when it obviously isn’t Sam answering her calls?’ Gideon paused in his pacing to challenge her scathingly.

She glared at him. ‘I don’t have any sort of explanation for the telephone calls, or any reason for a woman to keep hanging up like that. But the one thing I do know is that Sam does not have a mistress.’ She shook her head disgustedly. ‘Having seen how happy he and Crys are, I don’t know how you can even suggest such at thing. Unless you’re just looking for an excuse to cause trouble between them because of the way you feel about Crys,’ she added accusingly, her cheeks flushed with anger, her eyes glittering deeply brown.

Gideon became very still, every muscle and sinew of his body stiff with resentment. ‘And exactly what do you mean by that remark?’ His voice was dangerously quiet.

Molly raised her chin defiantly. ‘Anyone with eyes in their head can see that you’re in love with Crys yourself,’ she felt stung into accusing.

And then she wondered at her temerity. Had she really just voiced what had until this moment been only suspicions?

Yes, she had! But in her own defence it had only been because of the things he was saying about Sam.

How dare he say those things about Sam?

After Sam’s bad experience with his unbalanced ex-fiancée twelve years ago, he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman until he’d met Crys. And, okay, it hadn’t exactly been love at first sight between the two of them, she remembered with affection, but it was obvious to anyone that the two of them now loved each other very much, that neither of them had eyes for anyone else.

To anyone except Gideon, it would appear…

From the dangerous glitter in his eyes at the moment, she had a feeling that the only emotion he was feeling right now was murderous anger—towards her.

Mistletoe Magic

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