Читать книгу Mistletoe Magic - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 18
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ОглавлениеNOT that Gideon seemed to be doing too good a job of silencing Merlin. The sound of the dog’s barking was interspersed with low growls, too, now, and the cacophony became louder as Molly hurried down the hallway to the kitchen.
Merlin was scrabbling at the back door when Molly entered the room, and Gideon was doing everything he could to calm him—from talking to him soothingly to raising his voice sharply, even going down on his haunches and trying to hold the dog and silence him that way.
This was something Merlin took great exception to, growling even deeper in his throat, baring his teeth in displeasure.
‘He wants to go outside,’ Molly advised him worriedly.
Gideon turned to scowl at her. ‘I know what he wants, Molly,’ he bit out frustratedly. ‘I’m just not sure it’s a good idea to let him out,’ he added slowly.
She looked down at him frowningly. ‘Why not?’
‘Because… Just because.’ He amended whatever he had originally been going to say, straightening to look down frustratedly as Merlin still scrabbled frantically at the door. ‘I know this is a large house, but nevertheless I have no doubt that he’s woken everyone in it by now—’
‘He has indeed,’ Sam muttered grimly as he came into the room. ‘Silence, Merlin!’ he instructed sharply.
Amazingly, the huge dog went quiet—although he still stood staring at the back door, panting heavily.
Sam, a white bathrobe pulled on over his nakedness, ran a hand through his already tousled hair. ‘This is turning into one hell of a Christmas.’ He shook his head dazedly.
‘Isn’t it?’ Gideon agreed dryly.
Molly didn’t look at him—couldn’t look at him—but nevertheless she knew that last remark had been directed at her as much as at Sam.
It was turning into one hell of a Christmas for her, too. So much so that Molly had no idea where it was all going to end. But end it must. With or without this situation resolved between Gideon and herself.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Sam frowned as Merlin dropped to the floor, his nose pressed against the door as he once again began to rumble low in this throat.
Gideon straightened. ‘Something outside disturbed him. A cat, possibly a fox.’ He shrugged.
‘I see,’ Sam said slowly, seeming to look at the two of them for the first time and frowning thoughtfully as he took in their dressed appearance. ‘And the two of you rushed down here to try to quieten him before he woke us all up?’
‘Yes—’
‘No,’ Molly cut across Gideon’s deliberate evasion, feeling the warmth in her cheeks as he looked at her frowningly and at Sam speculatively. ‘We were already down here. Having a cup of coffee.’ She indicated the still-warming percolator, shooting Gideon a look that said the-truth-is-usually-the-best-policy as she did so.
Sam knew damn well that the coffee percolator had been turned off when he went up to bed three hours ago; she had seen him check it.
‘Merlin just seemed to go wild,’ she added ruefully.
‘Hmm. Well.’ Sam gave a weary sigh. ‘He seems to have calmed down again now,’ he noted with some relief. Merlin was still lying beside the door, but no longer looking agitated. ‘Back to bed, I guess.’ He grimaced. ‘Maybe we can all get another couple of hours’ sleep before the next disturbance occurs,’ he added ruefully.
Molly didn’t need another disturbance to know she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight—thoughts of Gideon, of the intimacy they had shared, were enough to keep her awake for a week.
‘How’s Peter?’ she prompted as the three of them went up the stairs.
Sam grinned. ‘It seems a little trite to say “sleeping like a baby”—but that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s fine,’ he assured her warmly. ‘Although—’ he sobered ‘—if Merlin carries on like that again I may just have to make him comfortable outside rather than in the house.’ He didn’t look at all happy at the idea.
‘I’m sure it was just a one-off thing.’ Gideon was the one to reassure him. ‘Well, good night again, Molly.’ He turned to her pointedly as they reached the top of the first staircase.
Her eyes widened at this obvious ploy to get rid of her. Gideon’s guest bedroom was on the same floor as her own—surely it was more natural for the two of them both to say good night to Sam and go up together?
Not if you were regretting the intimacy that had occurred fifteen minutes ago. Then you would avoid being alone together again at all costs.
‘Good night,’ she said abruptly, not looking at either man before she hurried over to the second staircase and ran up to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her and leaning weakly back against it.
How could anyone be as changeable as Gideon obviously was? One minute telling her that she was beautiful, and how much he wanted her, the next coldly wishing her good night?
He could if he didn’t want anyone else to know that the two of them had almost made love together. If he regretted it had ever happened.
Well, she regretted it, too.
But not as much as she regretted the fact that she was in love with him…
‘I love Christmas, don’t you?’ Crys said happily the next morning as they gathered in the sitting-room to open presents beneath the tree.
‘Gathered’ as the result of Sam going along the hallways knocking on all the bedroom doors to wake everyone up with the cry, ‘Time to get up, Father Christmas has been.’
And it was rather lovely. Sam had lit a fresh fire in the hearth before waking everyone else, the lights glowed on the tree, and even a little gentle seasonal snow was falling as they looked out of the huge bay windows.
‘Love it,’ Molly agreed with forced warmth.
One glance at Gideon had been enough—his expression was less than encouraging. Just normal Gideon, really. It was the warm and sensual man of last night who had been the exception.
‘For you.’ Sam handed her a gaily wrapped parcel, standing in as Father Christmas as he distributed the presents from beneath the tree.
One glance at the label showed that the lumpy-looking parcel was from David. Molly glanced across at him before opening it.
‘Don’t blame me,’ he warned her laughingly as he strolled over to join them. ‘I asked Crys, and she told me you collect them!’
In that case, Molly knew exactly what it was, and laughed as she opened the present and saw a cuddly pig holding a red rose in its trotter.
‘Now I feel guilty that I only got you a book.’ She grinned up at David.
‘But what a book.’ He grinned back. ‘You probably won’t get any sense out of me for the rest of Christmas. Okay, okay.’ He laughed when Molly gave him a teasing look. ‘You don’t get much sense out of me anyway,’ he accepted.
‘Now, would I have said that?’ she teased.
‘Undoubtedly,’ David said dryly.
Why was it so much easier to laugh and joke with David like this than it was with Gideon, the man she was in love with?
Probably because she was in love with him, she acknowledged ruefully.
And no longer had any idea what he felt for her.
Although, if the way he was scowling across the room at her now was anything to go by, after last night he held her in more contempt than ever.
‘Another one for you.’ Sam gave her a second package before resuming his present-giving duties.
Molly’s hand began to tremble as she read ‘To Molly, From Gideon’ on the label. No frills or fancies about that. No ‘love’, either. Probably even ‘best wishes’ would have been asking for too much. And she would have preferred some cheerful robins on the wrapping paper rather than cold silver bells.
All of which meant she was totally unprepared for the beautiful cashmere scarf she found inside the package, so soft to the touch it felt like silk. But, more importantly, it was of the deepest pink—a colour Gideon had already assured her didn’t suit her red hair.
‘In contrast to the suit you were wearing on Sunday, this is the shade of pink that does go with your colouring.’
Molly looked up sharply as Gideon spoke, her hand closing convulsively on the scarf. She had been unaware until that moment that Gideon had crossed the room to stand beside her.
She swallowed hard. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she told him sincerely. ‘Thank you.’
He gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Did it hurt to say that?’
She shrugged. ‘Only a little.’
His smile widened. ‘That’s something, I suppose.’
It was something—considering she was slightly overwhelmed by his gift. ‘Impersonal’ was the way he had described the buying of her gift to him, and yet this scarf, obviously chosen to go with her particular colouring, couldn’t be put in that category.
Crys stood up to announce briskly, ‘Time for breakfast, I think.’
‘I’ll come and help,’ Molly offered instantly, grateful for an excuse to stand up and break the air of intimacy that had been developing between herself and Gideon.
‘We’ll all help,’ he said firmly. ‘Just because both of you can, doesn’t mean that you two women should do all the cooking around here.’
Which was probably about as close to a compliment for her cooking last night’s meal as she was going to get from Gideon, Molly accepted ruefully.
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Crys paused to say laughingly. ‘You aren’t going to just sit here with nothing to do; you three men can amuse Peter for half an hour or so.’
And leave us two women alone to have a gossip in privacy, Molly guessed easily as she followed Crys to the kitchen. No doubt Sam had told Crys that Molly and Gideon had been downstairs together during the night, and her friend wanted to know all the details.
Something Molly had no intention of confiding in anyone—not even her best friend.
‘So, come on—spill the beans,’ Crys encouraged predictably as soon as the two women were safely ensconced in the kitchen.
Molly sighed, knowing that pretending not to know what her friend was talking about would be a waste of time; Crys could be dogged when she set her mind to it. ‘I couldn’t sleep and came downstairs for some coffee. Gideon had the same idea about half an hour later.’ She shrugged dismissively.
Crys straightened from getting the eggs out of the fridge to eye Molly reprovingly. ‘And that’s it?’ she said sceptically.
‘More or less.’ Molly nodded, determinedly turning her attention to laying the table.
How much more, Crys really didn’t need to know.
Crys obviously wasn’t of the same opinion. ‘Well?’ she prompted pointedly.
‘Well, nothing,’ Molly dismissed lightly. ‘We both had a mug of coffee, and then Merlin started barking.’ And in between that she had completely lost her heart, amongst other things.
‘I don’t understand the two of you.’ Crys gave her an exasperated look. ‘Gideon is gorgeous. You’re beautiful—’
‘Thank you,’ Molly accepted teasingly.
‘The two of you might at least have a flirtation—if only to satisfy my romantic inclinations!’ Crys complained frustratedly.
Molly couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s disgruntled expression. ‘Nice try, Crys.’ She shook her head indulgently. ‘But I’ve already told you—you’re wasting your time where Gideon and I are concerned.’
‘Obviously.’ Crys frowned. ‘But as two of my dearest friends, I do think you might have indulged me just a little.’
‘Sorry,’ Molly said unconcernedly.
‘Oh, scramble these eggs,’ Crys muttered frustratedly, before concentrating on preparing the other ingredients for breakfast.
Molly only wished she could distract her heart as easily as she seemed to have distracted Crys. But her heart wasn’t as easily deceived. She knew without a doubt that she was in love with Gideon.
She flattered herself that she did quite a good job of hiding it as the day progressed. Not that it was too difficult to do, when Gideon seemed just as determined to avoid her company, too.
In fact, by the time they had all collapsed in the evening, after yet another sumptuous meal, Molly could honestly say that they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words all day—and even those had only been of the polite category, such as ‘Could you pass the salt, please?’
At least this respite from Gideon’s company gave her a chance to rebuild her defences—defences that had been badly damaged during their closeness the night before. And she felt restored enough that she felt no qualms about joining Gideon and Sam for Merlin’s evening stroll. In fact, after a day spent eating, chatting, and watching the occasional programme on television—a special Christmas Bailey being one of them—she welcomed the opportunity for some fresh air.
Although, from the scowl on Gideon’s face as she went outside, it seemed he would rather she hadn’t joined them.
Well, too bad. Sam was her brother, and this was her Christmas, too.
The three of them walked in the grounds in silence for some time, the moon’s reflection on the light scattering of snow on the ground making it a clear night.
‘I’m glad you decided to join us, Molly.’ Sam suddenly spoke heavily ‘Gideon has told me exactly what’s been happening the last few days, and I think you should know—’
‘I disagree, Sam,’ Gideon cut in harshly. ‘In fact, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to talk about this,’ he added determinedly.
Sam turned to frown at the other man. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t.’ Gideon’s expression was harshly forbidding, his face appearing all hard angles in the moonlight.
Molly’s own face, she knew, was pale; she had felt the colour drain from her cheeks at Sam’s opening comment. How could Gideon have told her brother what had happened between the two of them during the night? How could he?
‘I disagree, Gideon,’ Sam told the other man ruefully. ‘I know you think you’re being protective, but Molly is far from being a child—’
‘Obviously,’ she snapped, utterly humiliated at the thought of Gideon discussing her in those terms—with her stepbrother, of all people. In fact, if he had been in the least a gentleman he wouldn’t have discussed last night with anyone.
‘Molly—’
‘Oh, forget it, Sam.’ She interrupted his placating words impatiently. ‘Gideon has spoken,’ she snapped angrily, feeling the heated colour return to her cheeks as she turned to glare at Gideon in the semi-darkness. ‘Too much, by the sound of it,’ she accused furiously.
‘Molly—’
‘Stay out of this, Sam,’ she told him coldly, her gaze still locked on Gideon. ‘You are without doubt the most arrogant, self-opinionated, horrible man it has ever been my misfortune to meet,’ she bit out accusingly.
‘Molly, please let me explain—’ Sam tried.
‘Leave it, Sam,’ Gideon rasped. His expression had become even grimmer at Molly’s tirade of accusations, and his face was starkly etched against the moonlight. ‘I’m sure Molly feels she is perfectly entitled to express her opinion of me.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Too right I am!’ she snapped, her hands clenched at her sides now. ‘And arrogant doesn’t even begin to cover what you are!’
He smiled without humour. ‘Self-opinionated and horrible were two other descriptions, I believe,’ he drawled hardly.
‘Oh, I could go on,’ she assured him scornfully. ‘But, don’t worry, I’m not about to,’ she added scathingly as she saw how dismayed Sam was looking. ‘I’m going back to the house now,’ she told them both abruptly, before turning on her heel and marching furiously away.
The tears were falling hotly down her cheeks before she had gone half a dozen steps, and she brushed them away impatiently as she began to run rather than walk.
How could he?
How could he?