Читать книгу Christmas Ever After - Sarah Morgan - Страница 9

SKYLAR’S HEAD POUNDED, as if a thousand elves from Santa’s workshop were hammering on her skull. There was a tickling feeling on her face and she kept her eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep, lulled by the hum of the engine and the low murmur of male voices.

Alec’s voice. Alec Hunter.

She lay against his shoulder, the strength of his arm keeping her locked against a chest that was solid muscle.

He was an academic. A man who spent at least half the year delivering lectures and studying papers. He wasn’t supposed to have the body of a fighter.

She knew she should pull away but she didn’t have the energy.

Had she been in a better state she would have laughed.

Of all the people who disapproved of her, her parents and Richard included, Alec Hunter led them all. He made no secret of the fact he thought she was shallow and frivolous.

Princess.

It was the cruelest irony that he’d been the one to be by her side at her lowest moment.

At some point during the journey she felt him move. She assumed he was about to push her onto her own side of the seat, but then she felt him applying a soft pad to her head and realized that the tickling feeling was blood coming from the wound.

He’d given her his coat, she remembered, which meant that her head was rubbing up against the pristine white of his shirt.

Pristine no longer.

Even knowing that didn’t motivate her to move.

She would happily have stayed in the cab forever, all her problems suspended.

Eventually they came to a standstill.

Alec eased her away from him and pushed her hair back from her face.

“Sky? We’re here.”

She was surprised by how gentle his fingers were.

She opened her mouth to ask where “here” was, but he was already leaning forward to pay the driver and then there was the sound of the door opening followed by a rush of cold air that made her gasp.

She was about to tell him she could walk but he scooped her up without asking and carried her into what was obviously a hotel.

Bright lights dazzled and she screwed up her eyes against the light, thinking not for the first time that Alec Hunter had a touch of caveman about him.

She was treated to a close-up view of the stubble that shadowed his jaw.

He smelled dizzyingly good, a mixture of lemons, winter forest and delicious man.

He didn’t pause at the reception, spoke to no one, simply strode through a marble-clad lobby and into the elevator with the same cool authority he seemed to show in everything he did.

“I can’t believe they didn’t challenge you,” she muttered. “You could have drugged me, or kidnapped me for your pleasure.”

“They probably took one look at you and knew that no man in his right mind would take you on.” He paused outside a door, shifted his hold on her so that he could slide the card into the lock and carried her into the room.

“You’re so wrong about me.” Her stomach was rolling ominously. “I’m adorable when you get to know me.”

“I won’t be getting to know you.”

“Your loss.”

With an exasperated sound, he lowered her carefully to the bed and adjusted the dressing on her head. “It’s bleeding again. Remind me why I didn’t take you to the hospital?”

“Because I asked you not to and you listened.” It felt as if thunder and lightening were exploding in her head. “Do you have any painkillers?”

He disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few moments later holding some tablets. “Paracetamol.” Instead of giving them to her, he put them down next to the bed. “Look over my shoulder.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched on the flashlight function. He flashed the light over her eyes, checking her pupils. “How many of me are there?”

“One. But that’s more than enough so don’t go cloning yourself anytime soon.”

He didn’t smile. “Were you knocked out? Did you lose consciousness?”

“I don’t think so.” She winced as he took a photograph. “Are you going to post that to Instagram?”

“I’m not posting it anywhere. I’m keeping it in case we need it as evidence.”

“Evidence for what? That I look stunning with a black eye?”

“Evidence against your boyfriend.” His tone was hard. “Can you remember everything that happened?”

Her stomach roiled.

She thought about Richard. About the things he’d said and the expression on his face when he’d said them. “Yes, unfortunately. I’d give a lot for amnesia right now.”

She felt humiliated and irritatingly fragile.

The truth was she’d been completed deluded.

For once her creative brain had worked against her.

Alec hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He was obviously hoping she’d say no and she was touched that he’d even asked.

“No.” She decided to give him a break on that one. “I want to clean up and shut my eyes for a while. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Liar.”

He shone the phone’s flashlight at her head. “That bruise isn’t looking good. Do you know who you are? What day it is?”

“I’m the non-prodigal daughter and today is the day I ruined my favorite dress, realized I was in a relationship with a dumbass and ended up in the hotel room of a man who hates me. I’m telling myself things can only get better.”

She bit back a hysterical laugh. At least now she knew it wasn’t love. No more doubts on that score.

Alec handed her the pills. “If you’re going to be sick, I want to know.”

Despite their less than perfect history, she almost felt sorry for him.

She knew what Richard was like with anyone who was ill. Instead of sympathy, his mind ran to vaccinations and quarantine. “It’s fine. Go check into another room. I’ll pay.”

“What’s the point in that? I brought you here to keep an eye on you.”

“But you want a sick warning.”

“Because it’s a bad sign with a head injury,” he said patiently, “and if that happens I’m taking you to hospital.”

“Oh. I thought—” She didn’t tell him what she’d thought. She was starting to wonder if her time with Richard had twisted her view on the world. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, but thank you.” She lifted her palm to her mouth but her hand was shaking and one of the pills slid onto the floor and vanished under the bed. “Sorry.”

He said nothing. Simply disappeared for a moment and returned to face her. This time he put a fresh pill in her palm and guided her hand to her mouth. Then he handed her the water. “What happened, Sky? Why did he leave you there like this?”

“Because he’s a jerk. Because he cares more about the media and his public image than he does about me. Because I didn’t do and say what he wanted me to do and say. Because he’s in love with my father.” It was all so ridiculous she started to laugh.

Alec looked bemused. “Your father?”

“Never mind. It’s complicated. You have no idea how complicated.” Even she couldn’t unravel what was real and what wasn’t. How many of their conversations had been false? If their relationship had been a movie, she would have watched it again with subtitles to see what she’d missed. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“No. Stay there. I’m going to clean up your head.”

She closed her eyes, heard the sound of running water from the bathroom, and then he was back with a washcloth and a towel.

“I’ll try not to hurt you.”

She didn’t tell him that most of the hurt was on the inside. Trying not to wince, she sat still as he gently cleaned her forehead. “I bet I look good. Black and red are my colors, and so is blue.”

He smiled. “Scalps are extremely vascular. They always produce more blood than they should and it looks worse than it is.”

It was rare to see him smile and she found it hard to look away. It was like catching a glimpse of the sun on a dark, stormy day.

“You should smile more. You look less intimidating when you smile.”

The smile vanished. “You have dried blood in your hair, but I can’t do anything about that. If we wash it, it will open the wound.”

The awkwardness was back.

She wanted a shower, but she wasn’t sure she could manage that without help and there was no way she was stripping naked in front of Alec Hunter. She’d suffered all the humiliation she could handle for one day. “Do you have my purse? I’ll call a cab and get out of your way.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my fancy hotel room. There’s a bottle of champagne waiting for me. Shame to waste it.”

“Champagne?” His voice sharpened. “He’s staying with you?”

“That was the plan, but I’m guessing I’ll be drinking it alone.” She thought about her plan to make the most of London at Christmas. Ice-skating alone. The London Eye alone. Yay. Fun times ahead.

“You can’t go back to your room. There’s a chance he might show up, and if he doesn’t it would mean you being on your own and you can’t be on your own. Not after a head injury. Someone needs to be with you.” He removed his tie and loosened a few buttons of his shirt.

She noticed the hint of dark chest hair through the gap in his buttons and averted her eyes quickly.

She didn’t need to know more about Alec Hunter than she already did.

“Relax. That ‘someone’ isn’t going to be you so don’t change your plans for me.”

“I don’t have plans.”

“You’re wearing a tie. I assume you had a date.”

“I gave a lecture earlier today.”

The reminder of his standing in the academic world did nothing to rescue her flagging spirits.

Here was someone else with a “proper job.”

She was the joker in the pack.

Feeling truly horrible, she flopped back on the bed and covered her eyes with her forearm. The pain in her head and the tiredness threatened to overwhelm her. She knew she should leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. “As soon as these painkillers have worked, I’m going back to my hotel.”

Somewhere in the distance she heard a phone ring and then the sound of a deep, male voice—Alec.

Whatever his faults, there was no denying his voice was almost hypnotically sexy.

She lay there, eyes closed, thinking she could happily listen to his British accent forever.

“Yes, I made it … No, not really. There were complications.” And then a pause. “Yes. Well, you were right.” Another pause. “She’s here with me now … My hotel room … No, she’s sleeping.” Another pause. “No, don’t do that … I know how close you are but you don’t need to come. I’ve got this … Yes, I promise I won’t leave her on her own. I’ll call you, Brittany.” His voice grew distant and she realized that he’d moved into the bathroom so that he didn’t disturb her.

And now she knew who he was talking to.

Brittany and Emily, no doubt calling to see how her exhibition had gone. Judging from the half conversation she’d overheard, they now wanted to fly over, which is what she would have done if it had been one of them in trouble. Only this time it wasn’t necessary.

I’ve got this.

Funny how people could surprise you.

The last person she would have expected to bail her out of a mess was Alec Hunter.

With that thought in her head, she drifted off to sleep and woke to the sound of heavy rain.

It took her a few seconds to realize it was the shower, not rain, and a few seconds more to realize her stomach was churning. She was going to be sick.

Hoping Alec hadn’t locked the door, she staggered off the bed, groggy and dizzy.

Shrugging off the coat he’d draped around her, she swayed into the bathroom just as he stepped out of the shower, gloriously naked.

“Holy crap.” For a moment she stared, distracted by his tough, muscular build and the shadow of hair on his chest. Through the haze of pain she registered that Alec Hunter might be a hardened cynic, but he had a seriously hot body. Her eyes followed the dusky trail lower and her eyes widened. He was fully, impressively erect. She heard him swear under his breath and then he reached for a towel just as her own body reminded her who was in charge.

She made it to the toilet and threw up, her humiliation complete.

If she’d lived through a worse day in her life, she couldn’t remember it.

EXASPERATED AND CONCERNED, Alec knotted the towel firmly round his waist and hunkered down next to her. He tried to forget those few pulsing seconds when her bleary gaze had fastened on his face and then drifted lower to other, more intimate parts of his anatomy. Parts that seemed keen to independently express just how attractive he found her.

“Sky?” Keeping his voice and his hands gentle, he drew her hair back from her face and muttered what he hoped were reassuring words. “I’m going to call a doctor.”

She shook her head and then moaned as she retched again. “Go away. Please go away. Just leave me.”

He’d never seen a more pitiful sight in his life.

It didn’t take a genius to guess how much she hated being ill in front of him.

But what alternative was there? He couldn’t leave her on her own in this state.

He rubbed her back, held her, and then when it finally seemed there was nothing left in her stomach, he stood up and left the bathroom long enough to fetch the water from the bedside table.

In those few seconds she had eased herself back against the tiled wall of the bathroom. Now she sat, eyes closed, knees bent, her silver hair flowing over her bloodstained silver dress.

Alec wetted a washcloth and crouched down next to her.

“Here.” He handed her the water and put the cool cloth against her forehead.

She sipped slowly and then lifted her hand and took the cloth from him.

“Stop being nice. I hate you and it’s hard to remember I hate you when you’re nice.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep reminding you. You need to go back to bed. You’ll feel better.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand but she ignored it.

“I can manage.” She straightened those long legs and staggered unsteadily to her feet, like a newborn foal trying to work out how to stand. “I bet this is the best date you’ve had in a long time. Taking care of a semiconscious, vomiting woman must be right at the top of your list of favorite ways to spend a Friday night.” Despite her light tone, she kept her head dipped and Alec slid his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

“I know you don’t want to go to hospital, but I’m going to call a friend of mine. He’s a doctor. He works in the emergency department near here.”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“That’s the choice, Sky. Either you see my friend, or I take you to hospital.”

“Bully.”

Alec looked at her, now dressed only in the tight silver dress. Her feet were bare, her hair loose around her shoulders.

With a bruise already turning all colors of the rainbow and her hair streaked with dried blood, she shouldn’t have looked good but she did.

She intercepted his gaze. “Bet I don’t look like a fairy princess now, hey, Shipwreck Hunter?”

“You look like one of the seven dwarfs.”

A tiny spark lit her eyes. “Which one?”

“The really ugly one.”

She gave a weak laugh. “Can I take a shower before I go back to my hotel? I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

He doubted it was possible for Sky to go anywhere without drawing attention. Even bruised, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And that, he reminded himself, was another reason he was never going to lay a finger on her. In his experience very beautiful women were hard work. “You’re not going anywhere. And you’re not in a state to take a shower. You might pass out.”

“I won’t, but if you don’t hear me singing you can come in and rescue me.”

She’d be naked and wet.

He’d probably drown. “Sky—”

“I’ve already seen you naked. Nice body by the way.” She managed a smile. “Not bad for a puny academic. I guess that comes from wrestling alligators or whatever it is you do to impress your fan club of adoring women. Call me fussy, but I hate having blood in my hair. We both know you and I have nothing in common and anyway, you loathe me so we’re perfectly safe even if you do have to barge in and rescue me.”

He’d assumed their encounter earlier had confirmed that certain parts of him didn’t loathe her.

“Fine. Take a shower. I’ll be outside.” Leaving the door open, he removed himself from the bathroom, trying not to think of her naked and wet.

He pulled on jeans and a shirt and called his friend.

He’d always intended to make the call, just not under these circumstances.

As he put his phone down, he heard Skylar’s voice.

“Alec?” Her words were muffled. “I’m stuck.”

Swearing under his breath, he walked back into the bathroom and found her with her arms up, the dress covering her head and leaving the whole of her lower body exposed apart from a thin wisp of silver silk that covered the most vulnerable part of her.

Alec averted his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to take my dress off like you told me to.” She wriggled, her hips moving. “My arms are trapped and I can’t see what I’m doing. I’m feeling dizzy and I don’t want to throw up in my dress. It’s taken enough punishment.”

“Stand still.” Teeth clenched, he reached for the dress, the movement bringing him into contact with warm, bare skin. She smelled like roses and summer rain. “Doesn’t this thing have a zip?”

“No, it’s stretchy. It pulls on and off.”

He felt as if he was being boiled alive. “You should have pulled it down, not up.”

“I know that now, but it’s the first time I’ve worn it and I didn’t have a head injury when I tried it on.”

The situation would have been comical if he hadn’t been so tense.

Alec took hold of the dress, tugged gently and the fabric slid over her head. Which would have been a cause for celebration, except that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He caught a full on eyeful of lush, creamy breasts tipped with pink and then she grabbed a towel and covered herself.

“That makes us equal.”

He backed off, searing his skin on the heated towel rail. “My friend is on the way over here now. As luck would have it, he just finished a shift.” And the sooner he arrived the better. He didn’t want to be alone with Skylar a moment longer than he had to be. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

He walked toward the door, keeping his back to her.

“Good. That’s thoughtful of you.” The shower hissed and then she cried out. “Ow! Crap, that hurts. How do you turn this thing off? Alec, you have to help me. I’m drowning.”

Wondering what the hell he’d done to deserve this sort of punishment, Alec stopped in the doorway and turned.

She was naked in the shower, her hands over her head to protect it. “Alec?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” His voice sounded as if he had a bad dose of the flu.

“You sound weird.”

“That’s because you have water in your ears. Stand still. I don’t want to soak my clothes. My luggage on this trip is ninety percent Christmas gifts. Close your eyes.” He picked up the shampoo, reduced the power of the jet and lathered her hair as quickly as possible. “This is your fault for having fairy-princess hair. You should have dyed it a different color and cut it short.”

“I never dye my hair.”

He rinsed her hair, careful to protect her wound, watching as the water slid down her body. It flowed over the curve of her hips to the shadow and light that nestled in the secret places between her thighs. The brief glimpse was enough to confirm she was indeed a natural blonde.

Heat flashed across his skin. He fought the urge to lower his mouth to her neck and breathe her in. He wanted to trace every delicate curve with his tongue, taste every inch of her.

“Alec?” Her eyes were shut, her lashes clumped with droplets of water. “Are you still there?”

He stood, trying to work out how he could be dizzy when he wasn’t the one who had banged his head.

“Yeah.” His voice emerged from his dry throat, rough and rasping. “I’m here.”

And it was killing him.

“Could you hand me a towel?”

In the grip of a brutal desire, he groped for the controls of the shower and then for the towels he’d left within reach beyond the shower screen. She took one from him and tied it around her like a sarong. He used the other to dry her hair, avoiding her injury.

“I’ve often wondered if people would take me more seriously if I dyed it black.” Her voice was muffled by the towel. “There have been studies, you know.”

“Don’t dye it black.”

“The weird thing is, my brothers all have dark hair. When I was little, I decided that a wicked witch had probably kidnapped me from my proper family and dropped me in the wrong house by accident. I assumed my parents would have given me back if they’d had a return address. They think I’m wasting my life doing arty things. So does Richard. What do you think?”

His brain had ceased to work from the moment he’d walked into the bathroom, but if he’d been capable of rational thought he would have been thinking that he didn’t want to know more about her.

As far as he was concerned, the more superficial his knowledge of her was, the better.

“What do I think?” He dried the ends of her hair and then stepped back out of the danger zone. “I think you charge ridiculous prices.”

“Really?”

No, not really, but the way she was looking at him, her luminous blue eyes wistful and vulnerable, hardened his resolve.

“Yes, really.” He slung the towel over the rail and struggled for words that would ensure she continued to think he was the big bad wolf. It was safer for both of them that way. Safer if he didn’t follow his instincts, which suggested he carry her back to the bed and this time join her in it. “Your nod to Greek mythology might be charming to someone with no depth of knowledge, but that doesn’t change the fact that there are significant inaccuracies.” Droplets of water clung to her cheek. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and wiped them away with his thumb. Her skin was as soft and smooth as the petals of a rose and he felt her still under his touch.

“You took the time to look round my exhibition.”

He let his hand drop. “I was killing time until I could get to speak to you.”

“Of course you were. You planned to leave the first moment you could.” Her cheeks were flushed. “Don’t be embarrassed. I was hoping you’d leave quickly. Now I’m glad you didn’t.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

They stared at each other for a moment and then he heard a tap on the door and stepped away from her, relieved to have an excuse to walk away.

“That will be Michael.” He grabbed a robe from the back of the door, thrust it toward her and escaped from the steamy bathroom.

The sleeves of his shirt were wet from the shower and he rolled them up on his way to the door. At least with someone else in the room he was less likely to commit an act of gross indecency.

Despite the circumstances, he was genuinely pleased to see his friend and they chatted for a few moments, catching up on the main events of their lives, before Michael walked over to the bed to take a look at Skylar.

Alec wished he were somewhere else. This whole situation was wrong on every level.

It was too intimate, too personal.

He and Skylar barely knew each other.

What if Michael asked her a question Alec didn’t want to hear?

As far as he was concerned the bar for “too much information” was set low.

He prowled to the window and stood with his back to the room while his friend examined her. He could see the reflection of her body in the glass, so he pressed his forehead against the window and focused on the street below.

Snow was still falling and far beneath him people and cars moved slowly.

He heard Michael ask Skylar what had happened and heard her dismiss it as a silly accident.

Was that true? Maybe, but something told him that Richard Everson had played a part in that “accident.”

And even if he hadn’t, the one undisputable fact that stood out above all others was that the guy hadn’t stayed to help her.

“Just sick the once?” Michael stood up and pulled a sheet of paper out of his bag. “Alec?”

Bracing himself, Alec turned. “Yes?”

Michael handed over the paper. “Instructions for head-injured patients. You probably know it all, but read it anyway. If you’re worried, the next step is to bring her into the department for a scan. I’m in tomorrow, so call my mobile and I’ll arrange it.”

“Thanks.” Alec stared down at the paper in his hand.

Tomorrow he was supposed to be traveling deep into the English countryside to celebrate Christmas early with his family. It had made sense to combine a trip with his other commitments because he needed to be back in Maine in order to meet his deadline.

His friend snapped his bag closed. “She can’t be left on her own, of course, but given that she has you, that’s not a problem.”

Alec realized that Michael had misunderstood their relationship. He opened his mouth to put him right, but his friend was already walking to the door.

“I have to dash. I’m supposed to be having a late dinner with the in-laws. May will kill me if I don’t show up. Next time you’re over here, email me and you must come for dinner. Bring Skylar.” He opened the door and lowered his voice. “Can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you getting back out there. We were worried that after everything that happened with Selina you wouldn’t take the risk again. And I can see why you were finally tempted back into the scary world of relationships. Skylar is a stunner. Nice smile. Taking her home for Christmas?”

Alec frowned. “No! I—”

“Next time give me more notice. We’ll grab a beer. Give my love to your family. May and I are going over there for New Year’s Eve. Looking forward to your mother’s cooking—wish she’d give mine a few lessons.” He slapped Alec on the shoulder and was out the door before Alec had time to correct the misconceptions that were piling up.

He stood in the doorway, digesting the fact that his friends and family were still speculating on his divorce and love life.

He’d carefully laid down ground rules for that.

As far as he was concerned the subject was closed and he’d moved on.

He tried to spend as little time as possible thinking about his marriage. He certainly didn’t want others thinking about it.

Aware that there was silence from the bedroom, Alec locked the door and walked back into the room.

Skylar had fallen asleep.

Her hair, clean again, lay in a pool around her shoulders, as if someone had knocked over a jar of pale creamy honey.

Alec stared down at her and felt a flicker of concern.

He found himself wishing she’d wake up and return to her chatty, energetic self. Being with Skylar was like being outdoors without sunglasses on a day when the sun was just a little too bright. Usually he wanted to turn down the wattage, but maybe that was because his own world had been dark and gray for the past few years.

Sleeping Beauty, he thought and gently pulled the cover over her.

There was no question of her going back to her own hotel, at least not tonight.

He dimmed the lights, wondering what to do about his family gathering.

His mother was working on Christmas Day and he’d be back on Puffin Island, so this date for their annual “early Christmas” had been in his calendar for months.

It was the one time of year everyone made an effort to be together.

There was no way he could cancel.

Which left him with the problem of what to do about Skylar.

Through the window he could see the snow falling layer upon layer, leaving an ever-deepening carpet of white on the streets below.

If it didn’t stop soon, his journey home the next day would be hazardous. Negotiating English country roads in the middle of a snowstorm was not for the fainthearted.

He opened his laptop, scanned the news and found a photograph of Richard Everson. The caption said that he’d been in London for the exhibition of his girlfriend, jewelry designer Skylar Tempest. There was nothing about the proposal.

Alec closed his laptop and strolled over to the bed to check on Skylar again.

She was still sleeping, her breathing even, the bruising on her head dark against the swathe of pale hair.

The bed was huge, plenty big enough for two people to spend the night and not come into contact, but he lifted the bags from the sofa and piled them on the floor. He’d slept in places where most people wouldn’t venture, so the prospect of a night on a sofa didn’t bother him.

What bothered him was the woman lying in the bed.