Read the book: «Mistletoe Magic»
Mistletoe Magic
Claiming His Christmas Bride
Carole Mortimer
Christmas on the Children’s Ward
Carol Marinelli
A Surprise Christmas Proposal
Liz Fielding
Her Christmas Wedding Wish
Judy Christenberry
The Italian’s Christmas Miracle
Lucy Gordon
A Bride by Christmas
Joan Elliott Pickart
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Claiming His Christmas Bride
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Christmas on the Children’s Ward
About The Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
A Surprise Christmas Proposal
Dear Reader
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
Her Christmas Wedding Wish
PRAISE FOR JUDY CHRISTENBERRY
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
The Italian’s Christmas Miracle
Excerpt
About the Author
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Bride by Christmas
About the Author
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Copyright
Claiming His Christmas Bride
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 the passing of time.
Molly’s mouth had gone dry, and color 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?
CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written an amazing 125 books for Mills & Boon®. Carole is married to Peter and she has four sons, Matthew, Joshua, Timothy and Peter Jr., and a bearded collie called Merlyn. They live in an old farmhouse in the English countryside.
CHAPTER ONE
‘I REALIZE this is a christening, but isn’t it a little early in the day’s proceedings to be wetting the baby’s head?’
Caught in the act of raising the glass of champagne to her lips, Molly froze. Unfortunately, the bubbly wine in the glass didn’t freeze, too, slopping over the side to splash over her hand and down her wrist, instantly soaking into the sleeve of her jacket.
‘Even for you,’ that taunting voice added derisively.
Molly looked up indignantly, glaring across at the man who stood in the doorway watching her with hooded eyes so dark a blue they were almost the same colour as the iris.
Gideon Webber…!
She closed her eyes briefly. It had to be him who caught her guzzling a glass of champagne, didn’t it? It just had to be!
He was the reason she had sneaked in here for this illicit glass of champagne in the first place, knowing she was going to need every bit of help she could find to face him later on this morning.
Except it wasn’t later. It was now. And as she glanced back across at Gideon Webber she could see that same look of contempt on his arrogant face as had been there the last time she had seen him. The first as well as the last!
Not that the man looked any less lethally attractive than he had just over three years ago, when they had last met; his hair was that strange but attractive mixture of golden blond and molasses, his eyes that deep cobalt-blue, his nose long and arrogant, over a finely chiselled mouth, his chin square and determined. The last time Molly had seen him he had been wearing casual denims and a tee shirt, but today he looked even more arrogantly attractive in the formal dark suit and snowy white shirt, the latter complementing his golden tan.
Which he had no doubt recently acquired at some expensive ski resort—it was all right for some! Molly thought uncharitably.
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ she snapped, even as she put the glass down on the table. She reached into her bag to look for the tissue she had put in there earlier for emergencies, having decided she had to be ready for any eventuality today! The last thing she wanted was to start sniffing in the middle of her nephew’s christening.
Gideon Webber shrugged broad shoulders, the slightly contemptuous smile still curving that arrogant mouth. ‘You seem to be rather—fond of—the odd glass or six, shall we say?’ He arched mocking brows.
‘No, we will not say!’ Molly returned waspishly, stuffing the ineffectual tissue back in her bag. The sleeve of her jacket was still soaking wet. She just hoped it wouldn’t stain when it dried; she had paid a lot of money for the new suit she was wearing in honour of the day.
Gideon Webber grimaced unrepentantly. ‘We’ve only met twice—and both times you’ve had a glass in your hand!’
‘The last time it was Alka-Seltzer,’ she defended with another resentful glare.
‘So it was,’ he acknowledged with hard mockery. ‘I remember commenting at the time that you would probably have been better downing another glass of whatever had put you in that state in the first place!’
Molly drew in a sharp breath as he made no effort to hide his deliberately insulting tone.
She had been dreading today anyway, ever since Crystal had told her who Peter’s two godfathers were to be. But she had finally convinced herself that surely Gideon Webber was too polite to make any reference to their last memorable meeting. Obviously, in light of their present conversation, it was a totally erroneous assumption for her to have made about this—this—
This what? she questioned herself heavily.
Under any other circumstances she would have considered this man lethally attractive, ‘drop-dead gorgeous’, as some of her more colourful friends might have said. And he was gorgeous, no doubt about that—over six feet of lethal attraction. He just also happened to be one of the few people who had ever seen her the worse for wear because of too much alcohol…!
Time to take a bit more control of this conversation, she decided firmly. ‘Those were exceptional circumstances,’ she told him decisively.
He raised blond brows over enigmatic blue eyes. ‘And today?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Molly snapped impatiently. ‘At most, I’ve had two sips of champagne.’ She picked up the glass to take another assertive swallow. ‘That makes three now.’ She looked across at him challengingly.
He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘If you say so,’ he drawled.
Molly felt the colour enter her cheeks at this obvious scepticism as to the amount of champagne she had actually imbibed—a colour that didn’t exactly go with her blaze of rich Titian hair. But, damn it, the man was making it sound as if she were some sort of alcoholic who sneaked around swigging alcohol whenever there was no one else around—
Wasn’t that exactly what she had just been doing?
Well…yes. But—
She gave an irritable sigh. ‘I do say so.’ She nodded curtly. ‘I was just—it was only—’ Oh, give up, Molly, she advised herself self-disgustedly—While you’re not ahead! ‘Shouldn’t we all be leaving for the church?’ she prompted briskly.
‘Crys sent me in search of you for just that reason,’ Gideon Webber confirmed dryly.
Crys had sent this man to find her? But why not? Crys, of all people, could have no idea how much Molly had dreaded seeing him again. And that was the way she wanted it to stay!
She put the champagne glass down on the table. ‘I’m ready if you are.’
He gave a mocking inclination of his head before turning to open the door for her. ‘After you,’ he invited smoothly.
Molly straightened her shoulders, aware of that hooded gaze following every inch of her progress, knowing what he would see, too: a small redhead with warm brown eyes—eyes usually full of fun and laughter!—dressed formally today, in a dress and matching jacket, her legs shapely, the heels on her shoes a little high for comfort, but their colour exactly matching that of her suit.
‘Just one more thing,’ Gideon Webber murmured softly as she would have passed him in the doorway.
She raised wary eyes, suddenly tense. ‘Yes…?’ she prompted cautiously, wondering what the ‘one more thing’ he wanted to say to her could possibly be. Apart from mentioning their unforgettable first meeting, of course!
He gave a humourless smile, that gleam of white teeth looking almost feral. ‘Has anyone ever mentioned to you that women with red hair shouldn’t wear certain shades of pink?’
His remark was so unexpected, so insulting in view of the fact that she did have red hair, and that the suit she was wearing was pink, that for several seconds all Molly could do was open and shut her mouth like a goldfish in a bowl, with no actual sound passing her lips.
She had loved the style of the dress and jacket as soon as she’d seen them in the shop, but although she often did wear pink, had been a little unsure about this particular pale shade, debating long and hard while in the shop and trying the suit on whether or not it was actually the right colour for her. The shop assistant, probably sensing her uncertainty, and, in retrospect, probably feeling in danger of losing her commission on a sale, had assured Molly that she looked wonderful in it.
So much for wonderful!
Her eyes sparkled angrily as she turned to give Gideon Webber a haughty glare. ‘Most men would be too polite to say such a thing,’ she bit out scathingly.
Humour glinted in his eyes now. ‘Most men couldn’t tell you what any woman was wearing yesterday—let alone whether or not it suited her!’
He had a point there, Molly acknowledged ruefully, thinking affectionately of her stepfather. As long as her mother wasn’t actually walking around in something indecent, she was sure Matthew wouldn’t notice what Caroline was actually wearing. ‘I—’
‘Molly!’ Crys cried thankfully as she spotted them at the end of the hallway. ‘And Gideon,’ she added with even more relief, strolling down the hallway to link her arm with Molly’s. ‘We thought the two of you must have decided you didn’t want to be Peter’s godparents after all and run away together!’
Molly gave a disbelieving snort at this possible scenario, not even daring to look at Gideon Webber for his own reaction to the remark. She was easily able to guess at the derision that would be curling those arrogant lips.
Especially as she was wearing a shade of pink that clashed with her red hair!
Damn him for telling her that; she now felt decidedly uncomfortable in the suit, what little confidence the champagne had given her evaporating like mist.
But she still had the christening and the rest of the day to get through yet. After that she could scream and stamp her feet in the privacy of the guest bedroom on the third floor above them!
She and Crystal had been friends since schooldays, going their separate ways careerwise after that. Crys had become a first-class chef before opening and running a successful restaurant, as well as appearing in her own cookery programme, and Molly had chosen to go into acting.
Crys had also married three and a half years ago, that marriage tragically coming to an end when her husband, James, died of cancer only months later. But to Molly’s delight Crys had met and married Molly’s stepbrother Sam almost two years ago, and the couple now had three-month-old Peter James. Hence this christening, three days before Christmas.
The only fly in the ointment—in fact the only cloud on Molly’s present horizon!—was that Sam and Crys had asked her previous brother-in-law, James’s older brother Gideon, to be one of Peter’s godfathers. An honour, Crys had informed Molly happily, he had been only too pleased to accept.
Which had put Molly in something of a quandary. She didn’t have happy memories of her one and only meeting with Gideon Webber, and she was sure his own feelings towards her were somewhat less than cordial. But as she had already been asked by Sam and Crys to be Peter’s godmother, and had readily accepted, she could hardly turn round and tell them she had changed her mind because Gideon Webber was one of the godfathers, now, could she?
Of course she couldn’t, and so she had armed herself with every feminine weapon she could think of to give her the self-confidence she needed to face the man: new hairstyle, professional make-up, new clothes and shoes. Even a surreptitious glass of champagne to give her an extra boost! She just hadn’t taken into account the fact that Gideon Webber, like his younger brother, was an interior designer. And that he would instinctively know she was wearing a shade of pink that didn’t go with her red hair!
But at least Crys had interrupted the exchange, and spared her any further insults from the man.
In the rush that followed their mass departure, Molly found herself in a car with her stepfather on the way to the church in this ruggedly beautiful part of Yorkshire where Crys and Sam lived most of the time now. Her mother and the second godfather had elected to travel with Gideon Webber in his dark green Jaguar, and Sam and Crys were travelling separately with Peter James.
Merlin, Sam’s Irish Wolfhound and Peter James’s guardian from the very first day the baby had arrived home from the hospital where he had been born, sat forlornly on the driveway, watching their departure with the obvious intention of waiting there until they returned with his precious charge.
‘Matthew, what is Mum wearing today?’ Molly prompted casually.
‘Wearing?’ Matthew repeated frowningly as he concentrated on following Sam’s car the short distance to the church.
‘Yes—wearing,’ Molly confirmed dryly. ‘As in colour?’ she added helpfully.
Her stepfather’s frown deepened as he obviously gave the question some thought. ‘Well,’ he finally said consideringly, ‘it’s a sort of blue thing. Or possibly green. A dress, I think. Or it might be a jacket and skirt. In any case, I’m almost certain it’s blue or green,’ he added, with a decisive nod of his head.
Molly had already seen her mother on her arrival a little over an hour ago, and knew for a fact that the ‘blue or green’ suit, of whatever description, was actually a dress and long jacket in a beautiful shade of turquoise. Which, to most men, probably could be described as ‘blue or green’…!
And that, in Molly’s estimation, just went to prove that Gideon Webber wasn’t like other men!
Well, she already knew that, Molly acknowledged with a sigh as she turned to look out of the car window at the Yorkshire Moors.
How she wished today were already over. Then she could get on with enjoying Christmas with Crys, Sam and baby Peter James. Her parents were leaving tomorrow on an extended cruise to somewhere warmer than England—which was probably just about anywhere in December—and so wouldn’t be here for the holidays, which was why they were having the christening today, before the parents’ departure for warmer climes.
After all, what was it? Molly reasoned with herself. One day. Not even that, really. Just a few hours. And then Gideon Webber would depart and the four of them could get on with anticipating Christmas.
But those next few hours, spent in Gideon Webber’s acerbic company, could feel like a lifetime if he continued with the insults!
‘Glass of champagne?’
Molly turned frowningly towards the sound of that voice, her frown dissipating as she recognised David Strong, an actor who starred in a television series written by her stepbrother, Sam. David was Peter’s other godfather.
Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome, aged in his early forties, David brought his own brand of charm to the television series Bailey. But he had been widowed several months ago, when his wife had been killed in a car accident, and the sadness in his eyes and the lines beside his mouth, despite the warmth of his smile, were testament to his recent grief.
‘Thanks.’ Molly accepted the glass he held out to her. Having met David socially several times before, she was perfectly relaxed in his company.
Though she couldn’t repress her furtive glance around the room to check whether or not Gideon Webber was watching her accept the glass of champagne, and she frowned her irritation as he raised his own glass of what appeared to be sparkling water to her across Crys and Sam’s crowded sitting-room.
Molly turned quickly away from the easily discernible mocking humour in those dark blue eyes, the unbecoming colour once again flooding her freckle-covered cheeks. Damn the man. What was he? A one-man vigilante on the consumption of alcohol? Or was it just her consumption…?
Probably, she accepted heavily, wishing once again it had been anyone else but him who had seen her condition on that morning just over three years ago.
Although the world of acting was very often awash with the stuff, Molly very rarely drank alcohol herself—had found that it didn’t mix with early set calls or late-night theatre appearances. Which was probably why the downing of that bottle of wine just over three years ago had completely knocked her off her feet!
But there had been good reason for that, she reminded herself defensively. Knowing yourself in love with a married man—a married man who assured you he had every intention of remaining that way—would induce any sane woman to turn to the bottle. Besides, it had only been one measly bottle of white wine—not the whole crateful Gideon Webber seemed to be implying!
Did wine come in a crate? she wondered illogically, or—?
Get a grip, Barton, she instructed herself severely, determinedly turning her attention to David Strong. After all, he was almost as good-looking as Gideon Webber—and much nicer to boot!
‘It’s good to see you again, David,’ she told him warmly.
‘And you.’ He nodded, brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. ‘Although from what I hear we should be seeing a lot more of each other in the near future…?’ He raised dark brows questioningly.
Ah. Obviously someone had told him. Possibly Sam, as a courtesy to the leading man in his award-winning television series? Or had the secret leaked out in some other way? Probably the latter, she accepted ruefully; the supposed secrecy of the acting world had more holes in it than a sieve!
She gave David a quizzical smile. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Not at all,’ he answered easily, giving her the famous grin that had made him such a hit with female television viewers. ‘I think it’s past time Bailey had a more permanent love-interest in his life,’ he added reassuringly.
That wasn’t quite what Molly had meant by her question. It was one thing having the writer of a television series pop up in the studio whenever he felt like it—as Sam often did—it was quite another to have that writer’s stepsister appearing in the series with you. As the main character’s permanent but definitely whacky girlfriend!
Molly had been working mainly in American theatre the last few years, with the occasional television role thrown in, and until recently had had every intention of remaining out there. But a couple of months ago Sam had sent her the first script he had written for the new Bailey series, due to begin filming in the New Year, along with a cryptic message. ‘As I wrote the Daisy role based on you, only you could possible play her! Come home. I need you.’ Enough to evoke anyone’s curiosity.
Although Molly hadn’t been quite so sure after reading the script of that one episode!
The character of Daisy was an outgoing, dangerously inquisitive private detective, endearingly naive when it came to the vagaries of human nature, and most of all accident-prone—to the point where objects—usually bodies—seemed literally to throw themselves in her path for her to fall over.
Based on her? she had wondered, slightly dazed. She was outgoing, yes, and could be slightly eccentric, yes. But she wasn’t too sure that any of the other character traits fitted her, no matter what Sam might think to the contrary…
But the director of the programme had seemed happy enough with her audition when she’d returned to England a couple of weeks ago, and hadn’t hesitated about offering her a contract to cover the next Bailey series.
She had thought that particular snippet of information hadn’t yet been leaked, but obviously she was wrong; it was one of those well-guarded secrets that everyone knew about!
‘I actually meant, do you mind that I’m going to appear in the Bailey series with you?’ Molly corrected ruefully.
David raised dark brows. ‘The director assures me you were brilliant at your audition; why should I mind?’
She gave an awkward shrug. ‘Well…Sam is my brother.’ She pointed out the obvious. ‘And I wouldn’t like you to think—some people might think that had something to do with my getting the part.’ She grimaced.
‘The word you’re looking for is nepotism,’ drawled an insulting voice.
Gideon Webber’s voice. Of course. He seemed to lose no opportunity to insult her.
Was it acceptable for the godmother to hit one of the godfathers at a christening party? Molly wondered angrily.
Probably not.
Pity.
‘Gideon!’ David greeted the other man warmly—giving Molly the necessary time to clasp her hands tightly together in order not to give in to her initial impulse, after all. ‘It’s really good to see you again,’ the actor added smilingly.
Again? Molly wondered frowningly. Since when did television actors’ and interior designers’ paths ever cross? Never, or so she had hoped when she had decided on this move back to England. Although it now appeared she might have been wrong about that…
‘You can forget nepotism,’ David added with a grin. ‘From all accounts, this little lady can act her socks off.’
‘And any other part of her clothing. Or so I’m led to believe,’ Gideon Webber returned dryly.
Molly’s gasp of indignation was lost in David’s roar of laughter. Obviously he thought the other man was just joking. Molly knew better.
She looked up at Gideon Webber with narrowed eyes. His expression was openly scathing, and the colour slowly crept up into her cheeks. Exactly what had he meant by that remark?
‘How did you know she has to take her clothes off in episode four?’ David prompted the other man humorously.
Gideon’s gaze didn’t waver from Molly’s as he answered the other man. ‘Just an educated guess.’
Molly had no privacy to digest what David had just said. She had to take her clothes off?
Having only returned from America a couple of weeks ago, and been busy since then moving into the flat she had found in London, there hadn’t been time yet for her to read any of the other episodes in the new Bailey series.
She didn’t have a bad figure, definitely had curves in all the right places, but nevertheless Molly wasn’t sure she wanted to take all her clothes off for public display. Even with someone as nice as David.
And, if the derisive look on Gideon Webber’s face was anything to go by, he didn’t think her body was good enough for public display, either…
CHAPTER TWO
DAMNED cheek!
There was nothing wrong with her body—no excess bulges, her breasts pert, her waist narrow, hips slender, legs shapely—so why didn’t Gideon Webber think she was up to playing a nude scene?
Molly angled her chin challengingly at Gideon before turning to smile at David. ‘I think it might be rather fun,’ she assured him airily, hoping that none of her inner trepidation showed.
Until this moment there had been no mention of the fact that she had to appear nude in episode four or anywhere else. And she had signed the contract now!
Just wait until she got hold of Sam!
‘So do I.’ David grinned boyishly. ‘I have to say that Sam’s happy marriage to Crys has certainly livened the series up!’
So it would appear. She really did need to talk to Sam—if only to see if there were any other surprises that he hadn’t told her about.
‘They are happy together, aren’t they?’ Gideon murmured ruefully, looking across now to where Sam and Crys were talking softly together, their eyes glowing with the love they felt for each other, which had only deepened on the birth of their son.
‘Of course they are,’ Molly said waspishly, frowning.
Surely this man, just because Crys had once been married to his younger brother, didn’t begrudge her the happiness she had now found with Sam?
Molly knew that Crys had loved James very much, but she was only twenty-nine now—the same age as Molly herself. Surely Gideon didn’t think Crys should have remained faithful to his brother’s memory for the rest of her life? If he did, then he should never have agreed to be Peter’s godfather.
Gideon turned back to her, blue eyes hard as sapphires. ‘Then let’s hope they stay that way,’ he bit out harshly.
Molly’s frown deepened. ‘Why shouldn’t they?’
‘I think those two have already had their fair share of bad luck where love is concerned.’ David was the one to put this in quietly.
Molly knew exactly what bad luck David was referring to: Crys’s past loss was obvious enough, and Sam hadn’t looked at a woman until Crys after being publicly persecuted by his ex-fiancée twelve years before.
But, after David’s own recent loss, it was insensitive of Molly and Gideon to be carrying out this conversation in front of him at all. Even if the antagonism between the two of them was so intense it could be cut with a knife.
‘You’re right, David,’ Molly soothed, putting an apologetic hand on his arm. ‘Isn’t he, Gideon?’ she prompted hardly.
‘I think so—yes,’ Gideon agreed lightly, but a much stronger emotion burned briefly in the darkness of his gaze as he continued to look down at Molly.
And just what did he mean by that remark? And that look?
This man was too deep for her, too enigmatic; in fact, she could definitely feel a headache coming on!
She drew in a sharp breath as she deliberately turned away from that compelling gaze. ‘If you’ll both excuse me…? I just want to go and spend a few minutes with my parents before they leave,’ she added apologetically, knowing her parents had to go shortly.
‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Gideon Webber assured her abruptly.
If he so wanted to avoid her company, then why had he come over here and joined in this conversation at all? Molly wondered bad-temperedly.
‘See you later.’ David had recovered enough from the reminder of his recent loss to smile at her.
‘Of course,’ Molly said gently, not even sparing Gideon Webber a second glance before walking away to join her parents as they stood together across the room.
Damn the man. Damn. Damn. Damn!
Today’s christening should have been a wonderful family occasion, full of warmth and love, with all of them doting on Peter James. Instead, because of Gideon Webber’s presence, it had become something of a nightmare for Molly. But it was a nightmare she intended putting an end to at the earliest opportunity.
‘You!’ Molly gasped her dismay the following morning as she entered the kitchen to get herself a cup of coffee and found herself confronted by Gideon Webber, obviously doing exactly the same thing.
She had managed to excuse herself from the christening party the day before as soon as her parents had left, her claim of a headache completely genuine by that time.
She had certainly had no idea that Gideon Webber had spent the night here, too.
‘Me,’ he confirmed, his smile taunting her obvious displeasure at finding him here. ‘Coffee?’ He held up the coffee-pot in his hand.
A brandy would have been preferable after the shock she had just received. But that would only confirm for this man that she was some sort of dipsomaniac!
‘Thank you,’ Molly managed to squeak, through a throat that suddenly seemed extremely dry and lips that had gone numb.
What was he still doing here? she wondered wildly.
Unusually for December, the sun was actually shining, and the birds had been singing, too, as Molly made her way lightly down the stairs, filling her with pleasurable anticipation for the day ahead.
Anticipation that had just taken a definite nosedive!
‘Here—drink some of this.’ Gideon pushed a mug of steaming coffee into her unresisting hand. ‘Headache still bad?’ he prompted mockingly.
He was the headache! And, yes, it was bad—a terrible pounding had started behind her eyes and it hadn’t been there seconds ago.
‘I wasn’t sure whether or not you took sugar,’ he drawled as she sat down to take a much-needed swallow of the coffee—and almost choked on it. Not only was it unsweetened, it was also strong enough to strip the enamel from her teeth.
‘It’s fine,’ she managed to gasp, her eyes watering from the resounding slap Gideon had given her on her back. The thin green jumper she wore with denims was no barrier against the force of that hand.
Why hadn’t he just asked her how she liked her coffee? Or would that have been too easy?
Probably, Molly instantly answered herself irritably. It might also have deprived him of the pleasure of hitting her as well as choking her.
Okay, so he had stayed the night, for whatever reason. She accepted that, but that didn’t answer the question: what was he still doing here?
‘Crys and Sam have taken the baby and Merlin for a walk on the moors,’ he supplied economically, before sitting down in the chair opposite hers across the kitchen table.
As she had been rather late coming down it didn’t in the least surprise her that her stepbrother and Crys had already gone out for their usual morning walk with the dog. What she did find unsettling was the fact that she was left alone here for some time with a man who obviously despised her.
‘Don’t let me keep you from anything,’ she invited stiffly as Gideon still sat across from her, calmly drinking his own strong coffee.
He raised mocking brows. ‘What did you have in mind?’
She shrugged. ‘Having your breakfast? Packing?’ Leaving!
The sooner he made his departure, the sooner she could get on with relaxing—something she certainly couldn’t do around this man, either physically or mentally. Every remark he made to her, it seemed, had some sort of double meaning.
‘I don’t fancy breakfast,’ he answered her evenly. ‘But you go ahead.’
‘I’ll pass, thanks.’ She didn’t fancy breakfast, either.
But what about his packing? He was dressed casually today, in fitted black denims and a deep blue tee shirt, which meant he had his suit from yesterday to pack, at least…
‘It was a pity you left the party so early yesterday evening,’ Gideon drawled lightly.
Surely he hadn’t missed having her there? Or was it just that he hadn’t had anyone to sharpen his rapier tongue on once she had gone upstairs to bed? That was probably nearer the truth.
‘David had us all in hysterics with some of his more risqué stories of the acting profession,’ Gideon enlightened her dryly.
She would just bet that he had. In her experience, there was always more action going on behind the scenes than in front of the camera. Although, thankfully, she had never worked with David before, so none of those stories could have been about her.
She gave a grimace of a smile. ‘I’m sure we all have some of those we could relate.’
‘Even you?’
Why had that sounded like especially you? Or was she just ultra-sensitive where this man was concerned? In the circumstances, was that so surprising?
She moistened dry lips. The strong coffee might have woken her up, but it had done very little to quench her morning thirst. ‘Gideon, I think the two of us need to talk—’
‘Morning, you two,’ David greeted them heartily as he breezed into the kitchen, also dressed casually in denims and a tee shirt, his feet bare of socks and shoes, his dark hair still ruffled from sleep.
Molly stared up at him in stunned surprise; had David spent the night here, too? Obviously. It seemed she had missed more than risqué stories by going to bed early the evening before.
‘I don’t know whether it’s the bracing Yorkshire air or the champagne I drank yesterday,’ David said lightly as he moved to pour himself a mug of coffee, sipping at the strong brew with obvious enjoyment, ‘but I slept better last night than I have for months,’ he went on with satisfaction as he sat down at the table to join them. ‘So, where’s our godson this morning?’ he prompted interestedly.
Their godson… For the first time Molly realised that the three of them were forever linked by this connection to Peter James. That wasn’t so bad when it came to David, but Gideon Webber was another prospect altogether!
‘Out for a walk with his parents and Merlin.’ Gideon was the one to answer the other man. ‘You’ll have to excuse Molly, David; I don’t think she’s a morning person,’ he told the other man dryly, before turning to look at her mockingly.
She wasn’t at her best this morning, no, having so far received one surprise after another, but ordinarily she woke bright and ready for the new day.
Although somehow she didn’t think Gideon was necessarily referring to this morning…
Her gaze narrowed as she glared at him. ‘I’m not used to company in the morning,’ she bit out tersely.
‘Really?’ He raised sceptical brows.
He did mean something else.
This man had judged and sentenced her on the evidence of that one morning just over three years ago—just one morning, when… When what?
When she had been tousle-haired and heavy-eyed from lack of sleep. When she had obviously been suffering from the effect of too much wine. When he had seen her dressed only in another man’s shirt…
Yes, but…
Yes, but what? There was an explanation for all that Gideon had seen—or thought he had seen—but she very much doubted that this man wanted to hear it. Or whether he would believe it!
She stood up abruptly. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk outside and wait for Crys and Sam to come back,’ she said tautly.
And she would hope that Gideon might have taken his leave before she came back. Although somehow she doubted he would leave without saying goodbye to Crys and Sam.
‘If you hang on a minute while I put on some shoes I’ll join you,’ David told her as he stood up. ‘Gideon?’ he prompted brightly.
‘You two go ahead.’ He shook his head. ‘I have a couple of calls I need to make this morning.’
‘See you later, then.’ David nodded, confirming that he, at least, expected to see more of Gideon today.
Which was no consolation to Molly at all as she waited outside for David to join her. If he was now making calls, exactly how long did Gideon Webber intend remaining here?
‘What is it between you two?’ David prompted a few minutes later as the two of them strolled across the gravel driveway. ‘You and Gideon?’ he enlightened her as she looked puzzled.
‘Me and…? Nothing,’ she scoffed forcefully. ‘Absolutely nothing,’ she repeated firmly as David didn’t look convinced.
David quirked teasing brows. ‘That wasn’t the impression I got either yesterday or today. Come on, Molly, the two of us are going to be working together for months. I’m sure to find out if you’re involved with anyone.’ He grinned boyishly.
‘Well, it certainly isn’t Gideon Webber!’ she snapped, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheeks now. ‘The man does nothing but insult me every time he opens his mouth,’ she added disgustedly, knowing it was the truth, and also well aware of the reason for it.
But what could she do about it? If she protested her innocence too strongly Gideon Webber was the sort of man who would only see her vehemence as an admission of guilt on her part. But not to protest was just as unacceptable—and more damning. It seemed that with this particular man she couldn’t win.
Not that she hadn’t had her share of romantic entanglements in the past, because she had. Gideon Webber just happened to have been a witness to the one time she had made a complete idiot of herself.
David chuckled. ‘If we were all teenagers that would be a sure sign that Gideon likes you.’
‘Well, we aren’t,’ Molly said disgruntledly. From the evidence she had seen so far Gideon Webber had never been a teenager—had just gone straight from babyhood to the acerbic man he now was. ‘And I can assure you he doesn’t.’ She sighed heavily, knowing that Gideon’s feelings towards her were much more complicated than that.
‘More’s the pity, hmm?’ David teased.
‘No, thanks.’ Molly grimaced. ‘The strong, silent type has never appealed to me,’ she added derisively.
Although she had a definite feeling that as far as she was concerned Gideon wasn’t going to remain ‘silent’ for long. At the moment his antagonism towards her was just bubbling below the surface, giving her the distinct feeling that it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer, that he was going to have his say concerning their first meeting.
‘If you say so,’ David accepted teasingly, giving the clear impression that he didn’t believe her lack of interest in Gideon was genuine.
Well, David certainly wasn’t in the minority when it came to that; Gideon obviously didn’t believe a word she said, either.
‘This is a great spot, isn’t it?’ David enthused happily as they strolled around the extensive grounds. ‘I thought Sam was insane when he first decided to bury himself up here, but I can see the attraction now. Even more so now that he’s married to Crys. You and she have been friends a long time, haven’t you?’ he prompted interestedly.
‘Since school,’ Molly confirmed.
‘So you must have known James Webber, too.’ David nodded.
Molly frowned at this mention of Gideon’s younger brother, Crys’s first husband. Her gaze narrowed and she looked sideways at David in search of any hidden meaning in his words. But he was totally engrossed in the rugged beauty that surrounded Falcon House, and was apparently just making conversation as they walked.
‘Yes, I met James at university,’ she said evenly. ‘In fact, I introduced him to Crys,’ she added wistfully. The guilt she felt at having ultimately caused Crys such unhappiness when James had died only months into their marriage had never been completely erased, despite Crys’s now happy marriage to Sam.
David turned to her with raised brows. ‘So you must have known Gideon, too? After all, the two brothers worked together.’
Thankfully, Gideon Webber, ten years older than his younger brother, had never been included in their group of friends. In fact, Molly had only met him the once. But that once had been quite enough, thank you!
She gave David a reproachful grimace. ‘You really are wasting your time fishing in that particular direction, David—Gideon Webber and I dislike each other intensely.’
He made a face. ‘Does Crys know that?’
She frowned. ‘Of course not,’ she dismissed abruptly. ‘Why should she?’
David shrugged. ‘Oh, it’s only that… Ah, here they all are.’ He nodded in the direction of the battered Land Rover coming up the driveway. ‘Excuse me, won’t you?’ he added hastily as he turned back towards the house. ‘But I don’t think Merlin has made his mind up yet as to whether I’m friend or foe!’
Molly chuckled appreciatively as David beat a hasty retreat to the house; Merlin could appear quite intimidating until you got to know him. Or, more precisely, until he got to know you.
Having known the dog from when he was a puppy, Molly felt no such hesitation in waiting for her stepbrother and Crys to get out of the car. Baby Peter was lifted from the back of the vehicle by his father, and Merlin followed quickly behind him.
‘I thought I saw David with you.’ Crys looked around frowningly after taking her son into her arms. She was ethereally lovely, with her silver-blond hair loose down her back, and the beauty of her face dominated by misty grey eyes. She was boyishly slender, in spite of having given birth to Peter James only months ago.
‘You did.’ Molly nodded, grinning. ‘He seems to think Merlin needs a little more time to get used to him.’
Sam gave a rueful shake of his head as he absently stroked the huge dog behind the ears. ‘I’ve assured him that Merlin won’t bite him as long as he doesn’t bite Merlin!’
‘I’m sure that helped to convince him of Merlin’s tameness.’ Crys chuckled huskily. ‘Time for breakfast, I think,’ she announced briskly, placing the sleeping baby in Molly’s arms. ‘Pancakes all round!’ she decided brightly as she walked towards the house.
Molly followed slowly behind Crys and Sam. Ordinarily she would have been one of the first to appreciate Crys’s pancakes—they were to die for, light and fluffy, delicious with maple syrup or sugar. But not today. Not when the dark green Jaguar parked in the front driveway clearly told of Gideon Webber’s presence inside the house still.
‘Perhaps he’ll choke on one of Mummy’s pancakes,’ Molly suggested hopefully to baby Peter as he opened his lids to look up at her with alert blue eyes. ‘I know, I know, he’s your godfather,’ she accepted apologetically. ‘But you do have another one—and I can hope, can’t I?’
‘Talking to yourself?’ drawled a mockingly recognisable voice.
Molly looked up sharply to find Gideon Webber approaching the kitchen door from the front of the house, having moved so quietly she hadn’t heard his footsteps on the gravel. Merlin obviously had, and was walking at the man’s side, the two of them obviously happy in each other’s company.
He raised dark brows derisively, obviously aware of her surprise at seeing him there. ‘I had to get something from my car.’
Perhaps it was too much to hope that he had been putting his suitcase in the boot at the same time.
‘I was talking to baby Peter, not myself,’ she told him stiffly.
Gideon gave a mocking smile. ‘Well, I suppose talking to a three-month-old baby has its pluses; at least he can’t answer you back!’
Unlike this man, who seemed to have an answer to everything!
Molly eyed him scathingly. ‘Unusual in a man,’ she acknowledged dryly.
‘In my experience, even more unusual in a woman,’ Gideon murmured softly, before opening the door for her to enter the kitchen ahead of him, effectively cutting off any sharp retort she might have liked to make at this arrogantly sexist remark. And there were several she would have liked to make.
But the laughter and warmth in the kitchen, with Crys busy mixing pancakes, Sam and David helping to lay the table, the three of them talking as they worked, made her desire to snap a reply seem churlish.
Falcon House was a large, three-storey-high building, but Crys and Sam both loved their privacy, and they preferred to do most things in the house themselves. A woman came in from the village three afternoons a week to take care of any heavy housework that might need doing, but Crys did all the cooking herself.
Despite its obvious size, it was definitely a family home, full of warmth, love, and laughter, and Molly usually enjoyed her visits here enormously. Usually…
Why did Gideon Webber have to be here to ruin it all?
Although she had a feeling she was in the minority in feeling that way. David and Sam were obviously enjoying the other man’s company, and Crys and Gideon were standing close together as he helped in the cooking of the pancakes, the two of them moving with an easy familiarity that spoke of a long friendship.
But was it just friendship, or did it go deeper than that? Molly wondered as she sat slightly apart from everyone else, still holding baby Peter as she silently watched them all. Certainly there was nothing more than that on Crys’s side—Crys’s love for Sam was absolute—but Gideon was definitely more at ease with Crys than Molly had seen him with anyone else. The two of them were talking softly together, Gideon smiling openly, his gaze warm as it rested on Crys—
Now what was she imagining? That perhaps Gideon was secretly in love with Crys? A man she had previously believed wasn’t capable of feeling love for anyone?
Ridiculous, she admonished herself impatiently. Gideon had known Crys for years, he was her ex-brother-in-law—of course he had feelings for her; it was only Molly’s own resentment towards the man that saw it as possibly being anything else.
‘All right?’ Sam prompted softly, having come to stand beside her without Molly even being aware of it.
She pushed her troubling thoughts firmly to the back of her mind, looking up to smile at her stepbrother. As well as being a highly successful screenwriter, Sam was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, and Molly had adored him from the moment she’d known her mother was to marry his father seventeen years ago.
‘Of course,’ she assured him brightly. ‘How could I not be when I’m holding my favourite nephew?’ she added teasingly.
Sam came down on his haunches beside her, briefly touching his son’s cheek in wonder. ‘Your only nephew—unless you know something I don’t?’ He looked lovingly across the room to where Crys was laughingly serving pancakes.
‘Not at all,’ Molly chucklingly assured him as he turned back to her.
‘Does it make you feel in the least broody yourself?’ Sam asked shrewdly.
That was a little harder to answer. She wasn’t even involved with anyone at the moment, had severed what had only been a casual relationship with a fellow actor before leaving New York. But she was twenty-nine now, the same age as Crys, and, if she were honest with herself, she envied her friend her loving husband and beautiful baby.
For all the good that would do her, Molly reproved herself ruefully. Without a man in her life, loving or otherwise, there would be no family of her own, either.
She grimaced. ‘Sam, I doubt it’s escaped your notice that I’m not involved with anyone just now.’
He shrugged. ‘What do you think of David and Gideon?’
Molly frowned her puzzlement at this abrupt turn in the conversation. ‘What do I think of them as what?’
It was Sam’s turn to grimace. ‘Well, I think Crys has one of them in mind as your future husband and father of your children.’
‘She what?’ Molly gasped her bewilderment, sitting rigidly in her chair now, unable to hide her horror at what Sam was suggesting.
‘Don’t tell her I said anything,’ Sam told her hastily. ‘I think it’s all this domesticity that’s gone to her head and infused her with this desire to matchmake for you,’ he added affectionately. ‘She wants everyone to be as happy as we are.’
Molly blinked dazedly. ‘Yes, but—’
‘Crys assures me that David and Gideon are both extremely eligible men,’ her stepbrother teased.
‘They may be—’ her voice rose slightly ‘—but David was only recently widowed. And as for Gideon—I don’t happen to—’
‘Not a word to Crys about any of this, Molly,’ Sam warned softly as plates were put on the table. ‘She won’t be very happy with me if she knows I’ve said anything to you.’
‘But—’
‘I’ll put Peter in his cradle and then we can all have breakfast.’ He spoke normally as he bent to take Peter and crossed the room to put him in the cradle that stood in the corner of the kitchen.
Molly stared after him, totally bewildered by their conversation.
What did he mean, Crys was matchmaking between her and David or Gideon? She wasn’t due to start working with David until the end of January, and after today she hoped never to meet Gideon Webber ever again, so exactly when was this matchmaking supposed to take place?
She had a definite feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer to that question.
CHAPTER THREE
‘EVERYONE had enough to eat?’ Crys prompted happily half an hour later.
Half an hour during which Molly’s bewilderment hadn’t lessened in the least. She knew that Crys was happier now than she had ever been, and that this second marriage to Sam was her whole life, but it certainly hadn’t occurred to Molly that her best friend might decide it was high time that she found such happiness—to the point that she had already picked out two eligible men for her to look over as prospective husband material.
David Strong and Gideon Webber, of all people…
David was one of the nicest men Molly had ever met, and instantly put one at ease, but he was still suffering badly from the unexpected death of his wife. Molly was very much looking forward to working with him, but she knew he certainly wasn’t on the look-out for another woman in his life in the near future.
As for Gideon Webber…!
The only consolation to her own aversion to such an idea was that, much as he obviously loved Crys, Molly knew Gideon Webber would be furious at the very idea of being matched with her.
‘There’s a good reason behind my wife’s desire to make sure you’re all well fed,’ Sam remarked dryly after they had all assured Crys they couldn’t eat another thing.
Crys grinned unrepentantly. ‘With all the excitement and preparation for the christening we haven’t had time to put up our Christmas decorations yet,’ she explained. ‘Sam has some telephone calls to return in his study this morning and so I thought the four of us might have some fun putting up the decorations.’
‘No problem,’ David assured instantly.
‘Glad to help,’ Gideon added lightly.
Molly was so disturbed by this added delay to the two men leaving that she didn’t say anything.
‘You haven’t heard where the decorations are yet,’ Sam warned them wryly.
David chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Crys. ‘Your wife has the ability to charm the birds out of the trees, Sam,’ he drawled affectionately.
‘Or the decorations out of the attic?’ Sam suggested ruefully.
‘That, too,’ Gideon acknowledged dryly as he joined in the teasing conversation.
It made Molly feel more out of things than ever; this Christmas holiday simply wasn’t working out in the way that she had thought it would.
‘How about you, Molly?’ Sam turned to her as he, not unusually, seemed to sense some of her confusion. The two of them had always been closer than blood brother and sister. ‘I was going to take Peter in with me this morning, but if you would rather look after him than help with the decorations…?’
She would rather do anything else other than spend the morning in Gideon Webber’s company.
But even as she opened her mouth to accept Sam’s let-out she found her gaze caught and held by Gideon’s taunting one. Delicate colour rose in her cheeks and she knew he was aware, and obviously enjoying, her discomfort in his presence.
Her mouth set stubbornly and her eyes flashed before she turned to smile at Sam. ‘Thanks for the offer, but you know how I’ve always loved putting up Christmas decorations.’ And how little chance she had had to do so during her years in America.
It simply hadn’t seemed worth the effort to put up Christmas decorations in her apartment these last few years, when there had been only herself to see them. She had been looking forward to being involved in all aspects of this family Christmas, including putting up the decorations, and she wasn’t going to let Gideon Webber’s presence ruin that for her.
‘I certainly do.’ Sam ruffled her hair affectionately. ‘When she was younger she used to insist the decorations went up in November and didn’t come down until February!’ he confided in the others.
The colour deepened in Molly’s cheeks, and she carefully avoided looking in Gideon’s direction this time, sure those dark blue eyes would be filled with mockery. ‘I’m not quite that bad any more.’ She grimaced self-consciously. ‘But I have always loved Christmas,’ she admitted ruefully.
‘Nothing wrong with that,’ David assured her approvingly.
‘Nothing at all,’ Gideon agreed huskily.
Molly looked up at him sharply, expecting to see the normal derision in his gaze, but instead she found him looking at her quizzically, his thoughts unreadable. What now? she wondered frowningly.
Gideon gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘I’ve always thought that anyone who likes Christmas can’t be all bad,’ he drawled challengingly.
Brown eyes warred with dark blue for several long seconds before Molly broke the gaze to look at the other three people in the room; Crys still smiled warmly, David and Sam were busy clearing the table of the debris from breakfast.
Was she, Molly, the only one who could hear the deliberate insult behind Gideon’s words? Probably, she acknowledged—no one else seemed aware of Gideon’s antagonism towards her.
She turned back to him, chin raised as she met that challenge. ‘What are your own feelings towards Christmas?’
They might have been the only two people in the room as they faced each other tensely.
Gideon’s mouth quirked humourlessly. ‘What do you think?’
He really didn’t want to know what she was thinking about him right now.
‘I have no idea,’ she answered honestly. Trying to fathom the workings of Gideon could take a lifetime—and she really didn’t have two minutes of her time to waste on the hateful man.
He grinned at her. ‘I’ve always loved Christmas, too,’ he told her mockingly.
It wasn’t his words that disarmed her, but that grin. It transformed his whole face until he was boyish and charming. Two things she had never before associated with the arrogantly haughty Gideon Webber.
‘Good,’ she finally managed to answer inadequately.
The grin spread to the warmth of his dark blue eyes. ‘Not what you expected to hear, was it?’ he guessed shrewdly.
If there was one thing she had learnt about this man in the last twenty-four hours, it was never to expect the expected from him; he had so many facets to his nature it was impossible to second-guess anything he might do or say.
She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘What I do or don’t expect from you isn’t really important, is it?’ she dismissed heavily.
‘Not to me, no,’ he confirmed hardly.
Well, that definitely told you, didn’t it, Molly? she acknowledged to herself ruefully. Just as well she felt the same way about him, wasn’t it?
Brown eyes sparkled with sudden humour and she easily met his gaze this time. ‘Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way, aren’t you?’ she taunted.
Was it her imagination or did she briefly see admiration flare in those dark blue eyes? Maybe, but it was so quickly masked by his usual mockery that even if she had seen it she knew Gideon wasn’t happy with the emotion.
Well, that was just too bad. She was who she was, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t the person Gideon thought she was. In fact, she was certain it wasn’t!
Gideon glared down at her wordlessly for several seconds, eyes narrowing before he slowly turned away, an enigmatic smile curving those sculptured lips.
Now what? Molly found herself wondering for the second time in almost as many minutes. Why was it, she wondered, that this man always looked as if he knew something she didn’t—like a cat that had lapped up all the cream?
And just as quickly she remonstrated with herself for such a fanciful thought; the only cat that Gideon Webber resembled was the feral kind—a hunting tiger, perhaps.
With her as his prey…
‘We can all go out this afternoon and choose a fir tree,’ Sam was saying now. ‘There’s a place not far from here where you can pick and chop down your own,’ he added with satisfaction.
‘Excellent,’ David said with obvious pleasure.
‘A real traditional Christmas,’ Gideon agreed, before once again looking at Molly, dark brows raised mockingly. ‘Aren’t you glad that Crys and Sam invited us all to stay over the holiday period?’ he added softly.
Molly could feel all the colour draining from her face as the truth finally hit her with the force of an actual blow to the body. Neither David nor Gideon was leaving today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after that. These two men, as well as herself, were invited to spend Christmas at Falcon House, with Sam, Crys and Peter.
Why hadn’t she guessed before? It had been there in front of her face all the time—the fact that David and Gideon had stayed the previous night, that neither man seemed in any hurry to leave this morning. Because they weren’t leaving any time soon. In fact, it sounded as if the six of them were going to be cosily ensconced here together for the next four days at least!
‘Still love Christmas?’ a familiarly taunting voice murmured softly in the vicinity of her ear.
Her faith in the goodwill of Christmas had definitely been sorely tested in the last few minutes, but, yes, she still loved Christmas—in spite of whom she might be forced into sharing it with.
She turned sharply to tell Gideon as much, only to find that he was much closer than she had thought he was. His head bent towards hers, their breath intermingling as Molly’s abrupt rejoinder died on her lips, and her gaze was held captive by Gideon’s as her breathing seemed to stop altogether.
He really was the most attractive-looking man, that honey-blond hair falling endearingly over his forehead, his eyes a dark, fathomless blue over high cheekbones, the patrician nose and that firmly sculptured mouth.
‘Will you be on the “naughty” or “nice” list this year, do you think?’ he taunted softly.
Attractive-looking maybe. But as soon as he opened his mocking mouth the whole image was quickly dispelled.
Perhaps just as well…considering she had actually felt herself being drawn to that attraction for a few—mad—minutes.
She drew in a sharp breath. ‘I…’
‘Come on, you two,’ David called over to them cheerily. ‘We have decorations to get down from the attic,’ he reminded them lightly.
Molly moved gratefully away from Gideon to join David as he followed Crys from the kitchen. But she was aware of Gideon’s gaze following her every step of the way…
She was still muttering to herself as she tied the belt on her dressing gown later that evening, after taking a shower before going to bed.
Not that it had been an altogether bad day; the decorations had gone up without too much trouble, their evening meal had been prepared and eaten in companionably good humour, and conversation had flowed freely. Even after dinner, when they had all played a game of Monopoly, it hadn’t been as bad as she had thought it was going to be—despite the fact that Gideon had easily been the winner.
No, on the surface it had been a successful day. Only Molly, it seemed, had been aware of the barb behind every comment Gideon had made to her…
It had started with the naughty or nice remark, and continued unabated throughout the day—to such an extent that Molly had been relieved to excuse herself with the intention of taking a shower before going to bed.
‘I’ll give him naughty or nice,’ she muttered to herself as she hurried down the hallway back to her bedroom. The last thing she wanted was to bump into Gideon when she was wearing only her dressing gown. No doubt he would find some sarcastic remark to make about that, too.
‘I’ve always been nice,’ she grumbled irritably as she opened her bedroom door.
Only to let out a loud scream as she saw someone silhouetted against the moonlight shining through her uncurtained window.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Gideon murmured dryly as he turned from gazing out of the window. ‘But did you have to scream like that?’ He gave a pained wince as he stepped forward into the glow of light given off by the bedside lamp she had left on for her return, still dressed in the casual shirt and trousers he had changed into earlier this evening.
‘Yes, I had to scream like that!’ Molly assured him furiously. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing in my bedroom?’ She glared across the room at him, her heart still beating double time, her legs feeling slightly shaky from the shock she had just received.
‘Waiting for you, obviously,’ he drawled dismissively. ‘Do you think you could shut the bedroom door? If I’m staying, there’s no point in drawing more attention to ourselves than necessary.’
No point in…! She had thought her torment was over for at least today, and now he had the cheek to just appear in her bedroom like this!
Molly made no effort to close the door behind her. ‘But you aren’t staying,’ she told him forcefully. ‘In fact, I don’t know what gave you the impression you could just come in here—’
‘You said earlier we had to talk.’ He shrugged.
Molly gave him an exasperated look. She had said they needed to talk—knew that he needed to be put right concerning several ideas he had conceived about her. But this was hardly the time—or the place—for such a discussion.
‘Not now. And certainly not here,’ she added impatiently. ‘Do you have any idea what people are going to think if they find you in my bedroom?’
Crys, for one, would probably start picking out wedding-dress patterns.
‘That was the reason I suggested you close the door,’ Gideon reasoned dryly.
On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea, Molly decided, and she moved to close the door quietly. Anyone walking by to one of the bathrooms down the hallway would hear the two of them talking.
Gideon’s brows were raised when she turned back to glare at him. ‘Did you have a specific person in mind when you made that suggestion?’ he taunted. ‘I haven’t interrupted an assignation, have I?’
Considering David was the only other eligible male in the household, Molly thought his remark in particularly bad taste. ‘Don’t judge everyone else by your own behaviour,’ she snapped scornfully.
Gideon’s eyes narrowed. ‘Exactly what do you mean by that remark?’ he demanded icily.
‘Oh, it’s different when it’s made about you, isn’t it?’ she derided exasperatedly, not really having any idea what she meant; it had just sounded like a good thing to say. It had also obviously touched a raw nerve…
‘You—’ She broke off abruptly as a knock sounded on the bedroom door, looking from the closed door to Gideon, her expression stricken.
‘Molly?’ Sam called concernedly through the door. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but Crys said she was sure she heard you scream a few minutes ago?’
Molly gave Gideon an accusing glare, having no idea what she should do now. If she opened the bedroom door then she would have no choice but to try to explain Gideon’s presence here to Sam. And if she didn’t open the door Sam was going to think it very odd.
‘I think you had better open the door and reassure him of your safety,’ Gideon murmured softly.
‘Oh, you think, do you?’ Molly muttered furiously. ‘None of this would have happened at all if you had thought a little harder about the possible repercussions of a late-night visit to my bedroom!’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘The only repercussion I could think of was if you thought I had come here with some idea of seduction in mind—’
‘In your dreams, buster,’ she cut in disgustedly.
‘Molly…?’ Sam sounded worried as he knocked a second time.
‘It’s okay, Sam.’ Molly raised her voice so that he could hear her as she moved to open the door, deliberately keeping it only slightly ajar in the hope that he wouldn’t be able to see Gideon in the room behind her. ‘I’m fine, Sam,’ she reassured brightly. ‘I—it was just…I saw a spider.’
‘And we all know how you love spiders,’ her stepbrother sympathised affectionately. ‘I’ll come in and get rid of it for you,’ he instantly offered.
Not with Gideon in her bedroom, he wouldn’t! ‘No, it’s all right, Sam.’ She firmly stood her ground in the doorway. ‘I—you see…’
‘The fact is, Sam—’ Gideon spoke purposefully as he moved to stand visibly beside Molly ‘—I heard Molly scream, too, and I have already disposed of the spider by putting it out of the window.’
Molly closed her eyes briefly, wishing for this to simply be a nightmare, but knowing that it wasn’t; it was possible to wake up from a nightmare! She opened her eyes again, to find Sam looking down at her speculatively, dark brows raised over knowing green eyes. After what Sam had told her earlier, concerning Crys’s efforts at matchmaking, it wasn’t too difficult to guess what he was thinking—or whose fault that was.
‘That was kind of you, Gideon.’ Sam turned his speculative gaze on the other man. ‘I know from past experience how Molly hates to deal with spiders herself.’
‘Didn’t you know? Gideon is well known for his kindness.’ Molly felt stung into snapping; the man wouldn’t know ‘kind’ if it jumped up and bit him on the nose!
Her obvious sarcasm was completely wasted on Gideon. His expression was one of total unconcern.
‘Well, if you’re sure you’re okay…?’ Sam prompted lightly.
‘I’m fine,’ Molly assured him.
‘I’ll say good night, then.’ Her stepbrother smiled, that knowing look still in his laughing green eyes.
‘Again,’ Gideon acknowledged dryly. ‘I’ll just have one last check for any more spiders before I leave,’ he added dismissively.
And as there hadn’t been a spider in the first place…
Molly found herself forcing a strained smile as Sam turned and walked back down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with Crys, giving him a half-hearted wave before closing her bedroom door and turning on Gideon.
‘Now look what you’ve done!’ she burst out furiously, eyes blazing deeply brown. ‘Sam no more believes you were in my bedroom searching for nonexistent spiders than I do!’ she added accusingly.
He looked nonplussed and raised blond brows. ‘He doesn’t?’
‘No,’ she snapped, colour warming her cheeks as she remembered that earlier conversation with Sam. A conversation she had no intention of giving this man even a hint of!
Gideon shrugged unconcernedly. ‘It sounded quite plausible to me. Especially as it turns out you really don’t like spiders,’ he added mockingly.
Molly’s gaze narrowed dangerously. She had disliked spiders all her life, no matter what size they were. She had no explanation for it—knew there was no logic to the fear—she just couldn’t stand them in the same room with her.
‘So what do you imagine Sam does think I’m doing in your bedroom?’ Gideon prompted softly, his expression deliberately guileless.
‘I’m sure you can work that out for yourself!’ she breathed agitatedly, knowing exactly what Sam would be thinking—saying—right now.
Gideon raised dark blond brows. ‘As far as anyone else is concerned, we were introduced for the first time yesterday morning at the christening. Do you usually invite men into your bedroom on such short acquaintance?’
‘Do I…? You’re the one who invaded my bedroom, not the other way round!’ she reminded accusingly.
It was bad enough that Sam and now Crys were aware that Gideon was in her bedroom, without having to take the responsibility for it, too. In fact, if she had to put up with any more of his insults this evening she was going to hit him.
‘I didn’t “invade” anywhere, Molly,’ he came back evenly. ‘I simply waited in here for you to come back from taking your shower.’
‘And you had no right thinking you could do that,’ she returned exasperatedly. ‘I may have said the two of us need to talk, but I’m certainly in no mood to talk to you at the moment,’ she added disgustedly.
There was a moment’s silence, and Gideon’s gaze was speculative now. ‘Then what are you in the mood for?’ he finally murmured softly.
Her eyes widened furiously at his obvious meaning. ‘Why, you arrogant—’
‘I don’t think so.’ Gideon reached out and easily caught her wrist as her hand would have made contact with one of his cheeks. ‘In fact…’ he muttered grimly, and his head lowered and his mouth took possession of hers.
Molly was so stunned by the unexpected kiss that for several long seconds she merely stood transfixed in his arms, his body hard against the softness of hers as his mouth explored hers with complete thoroughness.
Cold thoroughness…
That was what brought her to her senses, what stopped her from responding. Because, to her intense dismay, she actually wanted to respond.
Somewhere in the course of the last twenty-four hours—and she couldn’t for the life of her imagine when it could have been—she had become attracted to Gideon Webber!
It couldn’t have been when he was tormenting her. Nor when he was being sarcastic. After all, despite her earlier unfortunate love affair, she wasn’t a complete masochist, and certainly hadn’t deliberately allowed herself to become attracted to such an arrogantly impossible man. But for some reason she had done so anyway…
Which was why he had to stop kissing her!
‘No!’ She pulled sharply away to object, pushing away from him as his arms momentarily tightened about her.
Gideon looked down at her with hooded blue eyes. ‘No?’
‘No,’ she repeated firmly, glaring up at him. ‘I’m well aware of what you think of me, Gideon—’
‘Are you?’ he taunted, his arms dropping back to his sides as he slowly stepped away from her. ‘Somehow I doubt that very much,’ he added harshly.
Molly easily met that contemptuous gaze. ‘I would have to be a complete idiot not to know,’ she snapped. ‘And, no matter what you may think to the contrary, I am not an idiot! For some reason you have decided I’m some sort of femme fatale—’
‘For some reason?’ he repeated scathingly, shaking his head disgustedly. ‘I didn’t imagine you that morning at James’s apartment. Or the fact that you were completely naked underneath the shirt you were wearing—James’s shirt,’ he added pointedly. ‘Two pretty good reasons for deciding something, wouldn’t you say?’ He eyed her contemptuously.
Molly gasped, could feel the flush in her cheeks. ‘If taken at face value, yes. But—’
‘What other way is there to take them?’ Gideon cut in scornfully. ‘You aren’t trying to tell me that it was just coincidental that Crys was away at the time on a promotional tour for the publication of her newest cookery book?’
Molly looked at him wordlessly for several long seconds. He really did think…
She dropped down abruptly onto the bed, staring up at him disbelievingly. She knew he had a bad opinion of her, but…
She shook her head dazedly. ‘Didn’t you ever talk to James about that morning? Didn’t you ask him?’
‘No, I never spoke to James about it,’ Gideon cut in harshly. ‘And I didn’t ask him anything, either. What I did do was tell him what an idiot he was for risking his marriage to Crys over a brief affair with someone like you,’ he concluded grimly.
Molly felt numb—couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, could only stare at Gideon Webber in stunned disbelief. It had never occurred to her…
‘So there you have it,’ Gideon continued when she made no reply. ‘Was this what you wanted when you suggested the two of us talk—all of this out in the open, with no more need for even cursory politeness between the two of us?’
‘I wasn’t aware that there had been much of that anyway,’ Molly felt stung into replying, still stunned at what this man was accusing her of. He believed she’d had an affair with his brother James!
His mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘There is in front of Crys and Sam,’ he snapped. ‘Crys obviously knows nothing about you and James—’
‘There was no me and James!’ she cried protestingly, at the same time knowing that on the evidence this man had, her protest sounded hollow, to say the least. Even if it was the truth.
His top lip curled contemptuously. ‘Obviously nothing James felt important enough to need to make any deathbed confession to Crys.’ Gideon gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘That’s something to be grateful for, at least!’
‘But…’
‘But I know. And you know,’ Gideon continued hardly. ‘Let’s just leave it at that, hmm?’
Molly’s eyes widened disbelievingly. ‘You surely don’t think that I would ever—’
‘Who knows what you’re capable of?’ he cut in disgustedly. ‘From what I can gather, Crys is your best friend—and yet you felt no compunction about taking advantage of her absence from the marital home to jump into bed with her husband.’
This was incredible. Unbelievable. Oh, it certainly went a long way towards explaining Gideon’s behaviour towards her—it was just totally inaccurate as to what had really happened just over three years ago.
‘There’s only one positive thing that I can see about this situation,’ Gideon continued hardly.
‘There’s a positive to all this?’ Molly echoed dazedly.
‘Oh, yes.’ Gideon nodded with grim satisfaction.
She blinked. ‘And that would be…?’
Those dark blue eyes gleamed with that same satisfaction. ‘Crys is now married to your stepbrother. A situation that would certainly alter if you were ever to feel the need to clear your own conscience. Crys would find it very difficult to stay married to the brother of the woman who had an affair with her first husband.’
‘Now just a minute—’
‘I’ve wasted all the time that I’m going to tonight,’ Gideon rasped with a dismissive shake of his head.
On her, that was, Molly acknowledged numbly. This was worse, so much worse than she could ever have imagined. Oh, she had known there had to be a reason behind Gideon’s complete contempt for her, had guessed that it probably had something to do with finding her in James’s apartment that morning just over three years ago, but she had never imagined…
‘Be warned, Molly,’ Gideon added harshly. ‘I won’t ever let you do or say anything that will hurt Crys. Is that understood?’ he prompted determinedly.
She swallowed hard. ‘Perfectly.’ She nodded, wondering if he weren’t being just a little hypocritical. His protectiveness of Crys—erroneous as it might be in her own case—seemed to indicate more than just ex-brother-in-law affection on his own part.
Not that she was particularly interested in that; it was his belief of her own behaviour that was so disturbing.
Crys had been, and still was, Molly’s best friend. And Molly had known James for some time before introducing Crys to him; James had been one of her best friends, too. But that was all he had ever been: her friend.
Not that she thought this man was about to believe that for a moment. He had formed an opinion of her on one brief meeting. A bad opinion. And the only way to even try to explain herself was to give him an explanation of a time in her life she would rather forget. An explanation he was unlikely to believe in any case.
‘Good,’ Gideon bit out with satisfaction. ‘In that case, I have nothing further to say to you. Except—’
‘Please,’ Molly protested weakly, putting up a shaking hand to the temple that had started to throb painfully. ‘I’ve already heard enough of your insults for one evening.’ She sighed heavily.
Gideon paused on his way to the bedroom door. ‘Oh, I wasn’t about to insult you again, Molly,’ he assured her lightly.
‘No?’ she said disbelievingly.
‘No,’ he said derisively. ‘I was about to tell you that I’d lied about dealing with the spider. It’s on the ceiling directly above your head. Have a good night!’ he added tauntingly, before letting himself out of the bedroom.
Molly didn’t see him leave. One glance at the ceiling above her head revealed that there was indeed a spider. A huge one!
She shot off the bed so fast she almost fell over, staring in horrified fascination at the long-legged, fat-bodied insect.
Swine!
Rotter!
Sadist!
And she wasn’t referring to the spider!
CHAPTER FOUR
THE phrase ‘you look like hell’ came to mind as Molly looked at herself in the dressing-table mirror the following morning. Her hair stood out in a wild tumble of curls and her face pale, with dark shadows beneath her eyes.
It wasn’t just any morning, either; it was Christmas Eve.
But she had never felt less like Christmas than she did at this moment. She had spent a sleepless night, alternately looking at the spider or thinking of the things Gideon had said to her the previous evening.
He really believed she’d had an affair with his brother James behind Crys’s back.
For one thing, she hadn’t felt that way about James—had only ever looked on him as a friend. For another, Crys was her best friend; there was no way Molly could ever have betrayed that friendship, even if she had been in love with James, by sneaking behind Crys’s back and having an affair with him.
But if Gideon ever chose to tell Crys of that morning when he had arrived at the apartment Crys had shared with James, and found Molly in residence, her only clothing one of James’s shirts, would her friend be able to believe in her complete innocence?
Molly would assure her that James had only ever been her friend. But in light of that night Molly had once spent at the married couple’s apartment, while Crys had been away, the night Gideon was aware of, too, would Crys still believe in her innocence?
Gideon had contemptuously assured her he had no intention of ever telling Crys about that night, that he had no desire to hurt her or to ever see her hurt, but would he continue to feel that way if it no longer suited his own plans?
Unhappily, the conclusion Molly had come to during the long sleepless night had been that she simply didn’t know the answer to that question. Despite her aversion to going anywhere near the man ever again, she would have to speak to Gideon on the subject.
But not until she had done something about the way she looked.
And she did try. She washed her hair and styled it until it was silkily gleaming on her shoulders, applied make-up to hide her paleness and those dark shadows beneath her eyes, even chose her clothes carefully: a burnt-orange-coloured blouse teamed with fitted black denims. It was just that none of those things could hide the fact that she looked and felt thoroughly exhausted from all the thinking she had done during the night.
Oh, damn the man—and his suspicious mind. If it weren’t for both those things she would be enjoying a warm family Christmas with Crys, Sam and the baby, just as she had envisaged when she’d accepted their invitation to stay.
‘Last again?’ Gideon taunted the moment she entered the kitchen, shortly after nine o’clock.
He would have to be the first person she saw this morning—and he wasn’t alone, either. Crys was sitting at the kitchen table with him.
The latter turned to smile warmly at Molly as she walked over to pour herself some coffee from the pot. ‘Sam and David have taken Peter and Merlin for a walk to give me a few minutes’ break; Peter was cranky all night—didn’t seem to want to settle.’ She grimaced affectionately.
‘I know the feeling.’ Molly nodded, sipping her hot coffee, her brooding gaze daring Gideon to come back with another one of his barbed comments after the total inaccuracy of his initial statement; they both knew that David had been the last down the previous morning.
Crys at once looked concerned. ‘Sam said there was a spider in your bedroom last night,’ she sympathised.
Molly looked coldly at Gideon now. ‘There was,’ she confirmed flatly. And that sadistic swine had left her alone in her bedroom with it all night.
He returned her gaze steadily, the blandness of his expression giving away none of his emotions or thoughts.
In Molly’s opinion he didn’t have any of the former, and far too much of the latter.
‘Lucky that Gideon was able to deal with it for you.’ Crys nodded happily.
The only thing Gideon had dealt with was his own need to tell Molly exactly what he thought of her—before leaving her alone with that monster spider!
‘Wasn’t it?’ she returned noncommittally, no longer even looking at Gideon, just too tired to cope with any more of his scorn, even in a look. ‘Could I borrow your car to go into town this morning?’ She turned to Crys. ‘I still have a little last-minute shopping to do.’
It had also occurred to her some time during the sleepless night that, as she hadn’t known they were going to be here over the holiday period, she didn’t have presents to give to either David or Gideon tomorrow morning.
Not that she particularly wanted to get Gideon a Christmas present, unless it was a bottle of arsenic, but it would certainly look odd if she bought something for everyone else and deliberately excluded him.
There was no help for it; she would have to buy him a present, too. Something completely impersonal, she had finally decided—like a one-way ticket to the North Pole. He would certainly feel at home there, amongst all that ice and snow.
‘I’m driving into town myself this morning.’ Gideon was the one to answer her. ‘So you may as well come in with me.’
Molly’s eyes widened in horror at the thought of spending any more time alone with this man while she felt so tired and vulnerable. And she made no effort to hide the emotion when he looked at her mockingly.
‘What a wonderful idea!’ Thankfully Crys had turned to look at Gideon and didn’t see Molly’s response to the suggestion. ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t mind picking up a newspaper and my order from the butcher’s while you’re there?’
‘Glad to,’ Gideon assured her smoothly.
‘Great.’ Crys grinned as she stood up. ‘I’ll just go and get the list.’ She hurried from the room.
Oh, yes, just great, Molly echoed heavily in her thoughts, knowing it had been taken for granted that she would accept Gideon’s offer to drive her into town.
And why not? Ordinarily it would be the normal thing to do. It was just that there was nothing in the least ‘ordinary’ about the emotions that passed like electric volts between Gideon and herself.
‘You look tired this morning.’
It was a statement, not a question, and a totally unwelcome one as far as Molly was concerned. Once again she looked up to glare at Gideon. ‘And whose fault is that, do you think?’ she challenged tartly.
He grimaced. ‘From the accusation in your tone, I gather that it’s mine…?’
Her eyes flashed deeply brown. ‘You gather correctly. You—’
‘Here we are.’ Crys bustled back into the room with the appropriate list. ‘It’s the shop in the square—not the one down the street,’ she added lightly, not seeming in the least aware of the tension in the kitchen between Molly and Gideon.
And why should she be? Molly reasoned ruefully. As Gideon had already pointed out, as far as any of the family were concerned the two of them had only met for the first time at the christening.
‘I’m sure that between the two of us we’ll manage to find it,’ Gideon assured her as he stood up. ‘Hmm, Molly?’ he prompted pointedly.
Molly felt a small shock run through her body as he called her by her first name, sure that it was the first time he had done so in the last two days. Not that it had sounded in the least warm or familiar—just slightly alien coming from this particular man.
‘I’m sure we will,’ she confirmed flatly. ‘I’ll just go and get my coat and meet you at the car.’ She turned to leave without waiting for any response to this remark, just needing to get away for a few minutes on her own.
To regroup.
Also to make sure she removed all sharp instruments from her handbag—just in case she was goaded into sticking any of them into Gideon as he drove. After all, it was him she felt like doing harm to, not herself.
The green Jaguar saloon was comfortable, she would give him that, Molly allowed grudgingly a few minutes later when she sat beside Gideon as he drove the car down the long driveway out onto the public road. Warm and comfortable. But that was only the car. The owner was anything but those things.
Perhaps it was too warm and comfortable, she decided a few minutes later as her eyes began to close and her head to nod tiredly.
‘You really are tired, aren’t you?’ Gideon said slowly as Molly made a concerted effort to stay awake.
‘Why would I say I was if I wasn’t?’ she snapped back testily.
There was complete silence in the car for several long seconds, and then Gideon gave a sigh. ‘Perhaps I was a little hard on you last night,’ he said grudgingly.
Molly turned to give him a sharply suspicious look. Surely he couldn’t be apologising for the things he had accused her of yesterday evening?
He glanced at her, dark blond brows rising as she warily returned his brief gaze before it returned to the road ahead. ‘I was referring to my omission to dispose of the spider,’ he drawled derisively.
No, she had been right the first time; he wasn’t apologising for the accusations he had made.
‘Did you spend all night keeping a wary eye on it?’ he added with some amusement—completely nullifying the previous apology.
‘Don’t give it another thought,’ Molly dismissed hardly, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing she had done just that.
‘I wouldn’t have done—’ he shrugged ‘—if it weren’t for the fact that you look so exhausted this morning.’
‘By “exhausted” I presume you mean awful?’ she bit out resentfully; so much for the washed hair and make-up.
He gave another shrug of those broad shoulders. ‘Well…’
Molly felt the angry colour warm her cheeks as she glared at him. ‘Do you ever say anything nice?’ she snapped caustically.
‘Frequently.’ He nodded, completely unabashed. ‘For instance, in contrast to what you were wearing on Sunday, the blouse you’re wearing this morning suits your colouring perfectly.’
The compliment was so unexpected that it left Molly speechless. And slightly tearful, she realised with dismay.
Overtired.
Overwrought.
Just over-everything…
Gideon gave her another glance, frowning slightly. ‘Wasn’t that a nice thing to say?’
Molly gave a deep sigh, aware even as she did so of just how tensely she had been sitting as she relaxed back against the seat. The problem was, even ‘nice’ sounded suspect coming from this man.
‘Thank you,’ she accepted huskily.
‘You’re welcome.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll go and hunt down the spider when we get back, if you like,’ he added huskily.
She shook her head wearily. ‘There’s no need for that.’
His eyes widened. ‘You managed to deal with it yourself?’
‘No,’ she acknowledged ruefully. ‘I meant that to my certain knowledge it hasn’t moved an inch from its balancing act above the bed—so there will be no need to hunt it down.’
A frown appeared between those dark blue eyes. ‘I’m not usually a deliberately vindictive man,’ he rasped.
Molly grimaced. ‘You’re just happy to make me the exception, hmm?’
The frown deepened. ‘Not happy, exactly…’
‘Oh, just go for it, Gideon.’ Molly gave a tiredly rueful laugh.
The frown remained. ‘You really spent all night watching that spider?’
‘I really did.’ She nodded self-derisively. ‘After all, I could hardly go along and ask Sam for help after you had assured him so emphatically that you had already dealt with it.’
Gideon’s mouth thinned. ‘I feel really bad now,’ he rasped self-disgustedly.
Molly eyed him questioningly. ‘How bad?’
‘Bad,’ he accepted slowly.
‘Bad enough to listen to my side of what happened three years ago?’ Molly came back, more decisively than she would have believed herself capable of this particular morning.
He stiffened. ‘No,’ he rasped harshly. ‘I feel guilty for leaving that spider in your room when you obviously are an arachnophobic. That doesn’t mean I’m about to let you try to convince me that I didn’t see that morning what I definitely did see.’
Hard. Unyielding. Judgemental, Molly decided frustratedly. How could she reason with a man like that?
She couldn’t, came the unpleasant answer. Although that wasn’t going to stop her from trying.
‘However,’ Gideon continued hardly before she could formulate a reply, ‘what I am willing to do is call a truce on the subject over the Christmas period.’
‘Big of you!’ she snapped impatiently.
His mouth tightened ominously. ‘It’s the best offer you’re going to get,’ he bit out harshly. ‘In fact,’ he continued grimly, ‘as far as I’m concerned it’s the only offer you’re going to get.’
In other words, take it or leave it! And in the circumstances—not wanting to spoil Christmas for the others, if any of them should pick up on the barbed warfare between herself and Gideon—Molly knew she would have to take it.’
Her mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘I take it this “truce” will cease being in effect the moment midnight strikes on Boxing Night?’
His own smile was just as humourless. ‘Actually, I’m staying until the morning of the twenty-eighth—think you can manage to be polite for that long?’ He quirked dark blond brows at her.
‘I’m not the one being impolite!’ she returned waspishly.
Gideon gave a shrug of broad shoulders. ‘I’m willing to give the alternative a try.’
Molly bit back the angry retort she would have liked to make, on the basis that it wasn’t a very good way to begin a truce—but that didn’t mean she didn’t still have murderous tendencies towards this arrogant man.
‘Fine,’ she bit out between gritted teeth.
He turned to give her a mocking glance. ‘So, what are you going to buy me for Christmas?’ he taunted.
Molly’s eyes widened at his astuteness in guessing what her ‘last-minute shopping’ actually was, and then she gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I did have a bottle of arsenic in mind—but then I decided that might be a little too obvious!’
To her surprise. Gideon gave an appreciative chuckle. And once again it transformed his whole face, giving him a boyish look, turning his blue gaze warm rather than arctic.
Which, considering Molly’s total awareness of him probably wasn’t a good idea…
‘Maybe a little,’ he finally conceded, still smiling.
‘What would you like me to get you?’ she prompted interestedly, having no idea what this man’s interests or preferences were.
In any subject!
He was here alone, so he obviously wasn’t involved in a relationship at the moment; he would be spending Christmas with whoever it was if that were the case. But that posed the question: what sort of woman was he attracted to? Obviously not petite redheads who happened to be frightened of spiders.
Now why on earth had she had that thought? Molly wondered crossly. It was bad enough that she should have allowed herself to be attracted to him, without wishing he might find some redeeming attraction in her.
Besides, she already had an idea that Gideon’s attraction lay towards fragile silver-blonds with haunting grey eyes. Crys…
‘Well, I don’t like chocolate, and I have enough aftershave already,’ Gideon answered her slowly. ‘Would a book be impersonal enough, do you think?’ he prompted softly.
Molly felt her cheeks flush; did this man know everything? ‘I’m sure that it would,’ she bit out tersely. ‘What sort of book did you have in mind?’ Something erudite and learned, no doubt, Molly reasoned wryly.
Gideon shrugged. ‘There is a book I’ve been meaning to buy for some time. I was waiting for it to come out in paperback, and then I just forgot to buy it…’
‘Yes?’ Molly prompted dryly, wondering if her bank account had enough in it to cover the cost of a book this man hadn’t yet got around to buying for himself.
The move from America back to England had worked out quite expensive, what with shipping her few personal belongings back here and finding herself a flat to live in. But, on the bright side, at least she was one of the ten per cent of actors who were in work at any one time.
Gideon eyed her frowningly. ‘Perhaps you already had something in mind? Besides the arsenic, that is,’ he taunted.
She gave a shake of her head. ‘Not a thing.’ She doubted the one-way ticket to the North Pole would have been any better received. ‘In fact, I would more than welcome any useful advice you could give me in that direction,’ she assured him briskly, knowing she had no idea what to get for David, either.
She was also wondering what Gideon had got her for Christmas…
Obviously he had already known he would be staying for Christmas, and who the other guests were to be, so he would have purchased something for each of them before coming up to Yorkshire. Knowing how he felt about her, she dreaded to think what he would have as a gift for her.
Gideon nodded. ‘Okay, then. One of my favourite comedians is Billy Connolly, and—’
‘I don’t believe it!’ Molly protested incredulously, and colour flooded her cheeks as she realised what she had said. ‘I mean—well…Billy Connolly is—’ Whatever she had been trying to say, she gave it up as a bad job to stare at Gideon dazedly.
Billy Connolly? He was her absolute all-time favourite comedian, and had proved himself to be an exceptional actor in recent years, too. She would just never, ever have thought that Gideon Webber would like him, too…
‘An acquired taste,’ Gideon acknowledged dryly, obviously mistaking her surprise for censure. ‘One that I acquired during my university days and have never lost,’ he added ruefully.
Molly had already read the book Gideon was referring to, written by the comedian’s wife, and had found it to be moving, tragic. But ultimately the often outrageous Scottish comedian’s gift of humour had shone through all the hardships suffered in his childhood. She was just having difficulty coming to terms with having that like shared by Gideon Webber, of all people.
‘One that I acquired years ago, too,’ Molly told him evenly, deliberately masking her surprise at his preference. If asked, she would have sworn that she and Gideon had absolutely nothing in common. ‘And it’s a great book,’ she assured him. ‘What do you think I should get David?’ She deliberately changed the subject, still slightly rattled by discovering that she and Gideon had the same sense of humour.
‘That’s easy,’ Gideon answered smilingly. ‘We discussed the book last night, and David hasn’t read it yet, either.’
David sharing her slightly offbeat sense of humour she could more readily understand…
Although wasn’t it just a little too impersonal to buy both men the same gift? It might look as if she had been out and bought a job lot to attain a discount.
Gideon glanced at her. ‘I can assure you that we will both be more than pleased with the gift.’
‘Fine with me,’ Molly accepted briskly, deciding that impersonal was definitely the way to go with both these men when taking into account Sam’s warning of Crys’s attempts at matchmaking.
Something to keep constantly in mind, considering Crys’s satisfied look as she’d stood in the driveway and watched the two of them drive off together earlier.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘THERE we are,’ Gideon told Molly with satisfaction as he turned from putting the huge spider out of her bedroom window.
‘Thank you,’ she accepted awkwardly, finding his presence in her bedroom for the second time in twenty-four hours more than a little disconcerting.
Their trip into town together hadn’t turned out quite as she had expected. She had thought that Gideon would go off and do his own chores while she wandered around doing her own. But that hadn’t happened at all—Gideon seeming quite happy to stroll around with her. Even when she’d gone into the bookshop to buy the two books Gideon had simply waited outside for her, and then they had recommenced their stroll up the street.
It had been a little disconcerting, to say the least. The shoppers around them had obviously been infused with the happiness of the Christmas spirit, and there had been none of the mad rush and bustle in this little country town that Molly had left behind her in London. People had seemed to have time to stop and chat with each other, even though most of them were laden down with gaily wrapped parcels, and the coloured lights and decorated windows had all added to the relaxed atmosphere of warmth and cheer.
Surrounded by such obvious good humour and goodwill, it had been impossible not to become caught up in it—even Gideon had seemed more relaxed, if not exactly friendly.
That was probably a little too much to hope for, Molly accepted ruefully.
But his slightly softened attitude certainly gave her hope that the Christmas holiday wasn’t going to be as unpleasant as she had thought it would—but not enough to introduce the subject of that night just over three years ago; that would be sure to reintroduce a complete dampener on the whole thing.
‘Where do you suppose everyone is?’ Molly frowned now, anxious to get Gideon out of her bedroom, but also concerned that there had seemed to be no one else at home when they’d arrived back a short time ago, having picked up the requested newspaper and meat from the butcher’s.
Gideon shrugged. ‘Maybe they’ve all gone out for lunch on the assumption we would probably do the same?’
Oh, yes, she could just see Gideon and herself sitting down to eat lunch alone together—something guaranteed to give them both indigestion, she would have thought.
Although, bearing in mind Crys’s newly acquired matchmaking tendencies, Molly wouldn’t put it past her friend to have deliberately left her alone here with Gideon in an effort to further their friendship.
‘Maybe.’ She grimaced. ‘In that case—’
‘Hi, you two!’ David greeted them from the hallway just outside Molly’s bedroom. ‘Do you happen to know whether or not you’ve had chickenpox?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Gideon frowned uncomprehendingly.
‘Sorry?’ Molly felt just as puzzled—although that didn’t stop the colour entering her cheeks at Gideon once again being found in her bedroom.
David stepped into the doorway. ‘Apparently the reason Peter has been feeling less than his usual cheerful self is due to a rash on his face and chest. The doctor is with him now, deciding whether or not it’s chickenpox,’ he explained with a grimace.
‘Oh, no,’ Molly groaned sympathetically.
‘Chickenpox?’ Gideon’s frown deepened. ‘Isn’t he a little young to get something like that?’
Too young, Molly acknowledged worriedly. Peter was only three months old…
‘That’s what the doctor said,’ David acknowledged lightly.
‘I’ll go and see Crys now…’
David put out a hand to stop Molly as she would have hurried from the bedroom. ‘Not if you haven’t already had chickenpox,’ he warned.
‘I have,’ she assured him. ‘According to my mother I had every childhood disease going before I was a year old,’ she added ruefully.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Gideon muttered dryly.
Her eyes flashed deeply brown as she shot him a look across the room. ‘Have you had chickenpox?’
He drew his breath in with a heavy sigh. ‘As it happens, no,’ he admitted with a grimace.
‘Oops,’ David sympathised. ‘If it actually is chickenpox, it seems that Peter will have been at his most infectious from the christening onwards,’ he explained at Gideon’s questioningly raised brows.
It was all Molly could do to hold back her smile. Oh, it would be awful if a baby as young as Peter had contracted the infection, but the thought of the arrogantly confident Gideon Webber struck down with the unsightly rash was enough to make anyone smile.
‘Perhaps you should leave now?’ she suggested lightly—hope still sprang eternal that this man might not be here to ruin Christmas.
‘That wouldn’t be allowed, I’m afraid,’ David was the one to answer her. ‘The doctor has already said that if it is chickenpox, if we’ve all been in contact with Peter during the last forty-eight hours, that we would have to remain a self-contained unit for at least the next five days or so to see if any of us develop the infection.’
Five days? When Molly had been expecting to rid herself of Gideon within a couple of days!
But the look of mockery that had replaced Gideon’s frown was enough for her to immediately hide her dismay. ‘I’ll go and see if there’s any news,’ she offered briskly, deliberately turning away from Gideon—and his knowingly taunting look.
Poor Peter did look very disgruntled when Molly entered the nursery a few seconds later, his face all red and blotchy from crying. Crys’s face was pale and anxious as she held him in her arms.
‘How is he?’ Molly asked a grey-faced Sam as he stood beside Crys, looking down worriedly at his young son.
‘It’s what’s commonly called milk rash.’ It was the young female doctor who answered her lightly. ‘Uncomfortable for Peter, but fortunately he doesn’t have a temperature or anything like that,’ she added reassuringly. ‘Poor little love is just feeling a trifle fed up with the world—aren’t you, Peter?’ She touched him comfortingly. ‘And his first Christmas, too.’
In actual fact, apart from the slight rash on his face and chest, and his cheeks blotchy from crying, Peter looked in better health than either of his parents, Molly decided, after taking in Crys’s ashen face and Sam’s anxious gaze as he continued to look at his wife and son.
‘Well, that’s really good news.’ Molly smiled at the pretty doctor.
The doctor grinned back. ‘Isn’t it?’ She nodded, obviously relieved to have someone other than worried parents to talk to. ‘I’m sure the rash will fade very soon, and Peter will be back to his normal placid self,’ she added dismissively, ‘but if you have any more worries about him at all over Christmas, please don’t hesitate to call me. I shall be on call all over the holiday period,’ she said ruefully.
‘Poor you,’ Molly sympathised as she escorted the doctor out of the nursery and down the wide staircase to the front door.
The lights on the Christmas tree they had dressed the previous evening blinked on and off warmly as they passed the sitting-room.
The doctor shrugged. ‘It seems only fair, as my partners all have families they would like to be with.’
The doctor was probably aged in her mid-thirties, and was extremely pretty in a blond, blue-eyed, no-nonsense sort of way; it seemed unfair that she was to spend Christmas alone.
‘Everything okay?’ David prompted as he came out of the sitting-room. He was obviously the one responsible for putting on the Christmas lights; neither Crys nor Sam was in any mood to think of anything to do with Christmas at the moment.
Molly drifted off into the kitchen as the doctor and the actor fell into easy conversation and David took over the task of escorting the doctor to her car.
From the looks of things, what with Peter’s obvious discomfort and the doctor’s visit, no one had yet had any lunch, and now certainly wasn’t the time to ask Crys what she’d had in mind for the meal. But a quick look in the fridge revealed a huge bowl of freshly made chicken soup, and Molly had already seen there were three French sticks on the table to accompany it.
‘Oh!’ She gasped as she straightened from the fridge to find Gideon standing behind her; he moved with the silence of a feline.
‘Steady.’ He reached out and took the heavy bowl from her as it wobbled precariously. ‘Where shall I put this?’
Those raised blond brows dared her to make the answer that had sprung so readily to her lips, but Molly clamped those lips together for several seconds before answering. ‘Just on the table, thanks,’ she said briskly. ‘I think Crys and Sam need to eat something after all that worry,’ she added ruefully.
Gideon nodded. ‘Nothing ever looks as bad on a full stomach.’
Molly wasn’t so sure that a bowl of soup and some French bread would work the same magic with her, concerning spending Christmas with this man.
Gideon grinned as he seemed to guess her thoughts. ‘Well…usually not,’ he drawled mockingly.
She glared up at him. ‘Why don’t you lay the table and make yourself useful, instead of standing there tormenting me?’ she bit out crossly, having transferred the soup to a large saucepan and put it on top of the Aga to warm while she cut the bread up into more manageable pieces.
Gideon didn’t move, still standing far too close to her than was comfortable. ‘Am I tormenting you?’ he murmured huskily.
Molly swallowed hard. ‘You know that you are!’ she snapped, at the same time knowing that her voice lacked conviction.
What was it about this man that made her so aware of him? So physically aware of him—totally aware of the muscled tautness of his body, of the clean, male smell of him, of the arrogant curve to that sculptured mouth. In fact, she was so much aware of him at the moment that she could hardly breathe, let alone force her limbs to move away from him.
That dark blue gaze easily held her captive. ‘In what way am I tormenting you?’ he prompted softly, the warmth of his breath stirring the silky tendrils of hair at her temple, his mouth only inches away from her own now as he bent his head towards hers.
In what way was he tormenting her? In every way. Verbally, he more often than not left her self-confidence in shreds. Emotionally, he reduced her to a jibbering wreck. And as for physically…
She didn’t want to think about what Gideon did to her physically.
‘I must say it’s good that Peter doesn’t have chickenpox after all,’ David said with relief as he strolled into the kitchen.
Molly looked up wordlessly at Gideon for several more long seconds, unable to break the pull of that darkly compelling gaze. She felt her cheeks pale as the seconds passed, knowing Gideon was the last man she should ever have allowed to affect her in this way.
Why did he?
He was rude to her. Insulted her at every opportunity. Believed her capable of practising deceit on her best friend. Added to which, she didn’t even like him.
But as he continued to look at her she could barely breathe, let alone think straight. Not a good combination.
‘Oh, good—lunch,’ David murmured with satisfaction as he gazed in at the warming soup.
Molly dragged her gaze away from Gideon’s with effort, turning to smile at the other man. ‘Perhaps one of you would like to tell Crys and Sam that lunch will be ready soon?’ she suggested lightly, able to step away from Gideon now that she wasn’t held captive by that compelling gaze. ‘I know Peter isn’t feeling so good, but they still need to eat,’ she added ruefully.
‘I’ll go,’ Gideon offered. ‘I can always stay upstairs with Peter while they come down and eat, if they have a problem with leaving him alone.’
Molly looked across at him. ‘That’s kind of you,’ she murmured slowly.
He paused in the doorway. ‘I can be kind,’ he assured her hardly, before striding purposefully from the room.
Molly grimaced her dismay, knowing she had once again said the wrong thing. But she knew, in their present circumstances, she would be hard-pressed to say the right thing where Gideon was concerned.
‘Lovers’ tiff?’
She turned sharply to frown at David as he stood watching her, a teasing smile curving his lips, dark brows raised mockingly.
He shrugged at her obvious displeasure. ‘Sam said something this morning about Gideon coming to your rescue last night concerning a spider in your bedroom. Then the two of you went off shopping together earlier. And he was in your bedroom a few minutes ago,’ he reasoned, his smile widening at her look of obvious displeasure. ‘What else am I supposed to think?’
‘Not what you are thinking,’ she snapped disgruntledly.
‘No?’ David speculated.
‘No!’ she bit out frustratedly, a rueful smile starting to curve her lips now. ‘Last night. This morning. In my bedroom just now. This is all just some silly idea of Crys’s… I suppose you do realise that this is all some mistaken matchmaking on Crys’s part? And you’re another prime candidate?’ She turned the tables on him, knowing she had scored a point when he looked totally stunned.
‘Me?’ David was visibly dumbfounded. ‘But I thought Gideon…? Who does Crys have picked out for me, then?’ he said dazedly.
‘Me,’ Molly drawled. ‘According to Sam, she isn’t too bothered as to whether it’s Gideon or you I become involved with, so long as it’s someone!’
‘Thanks!’ David grimaced.
‘You’re welcome.’ She grinned, enjoying his discomfort after his having teased her so mercilessly.
He frowned. ‘And I thought Crys was just being kind by inviting me to stay for Christmas!’
‘Oh, she was,’ Molly instantly assured him. ‘She is. Crys is one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet.’
‘I’m glad we’re all agreed on that point at least,’ Gideon rasped as he returned to the kitchen, dark gaze narrowed questioningly as he looked stonily at Molly.
She held that gaze for several long seconds, and then she looked away, knowing from Gideon’s accusing look exactly what he was thinking. But it was impossible to defend herself against such ingrained prejudice. And with David in the room she had no intention of even trying to do so.
Besides, Gideon, at least, was unaware of Crys’s attempts at matchmaking. And Molly wanted him to remain that way.
‘Are they coming down to join us?’ she prompted distantly.
‘Sam is,’ Gideon confirmed. ‘Crys will have something later; she’s going to stay upstairs and have a nap with Peter. After her disturbed night, and with the relief of knowing it’s nothing serious, she probably needs sleep more than food at the moment,’ he added affectionately.
Molly knew how Crys felt. Her own night had been far from restful. Although she didn’t have the added worry over Peter to contend with, too.
She nodded. ‘I’ll go and take over from her later, so she can have something to eat.’
Gideon eyed her for several seconds. ‘That’s kind of you,’ he finally murmured dryly.
Deliberately. Mockingly. Tauntingly.
Okay, so neither of them had a particularly good opinion of the other. But if they continued like this it was going to make this time more difficult for the others than it already was.
‘My mother always told me that kindness is a virtue,’ she dismissed lightly, beginning to serve soup into four bowls.
‘So is loyalty,’ Gideon rasped harshly.
Molly stiffened, knowing exactly where that remark was directed. ‘And honesty,’ she bit out tautly, brown gaze challenging his now.
‘Hey, can anyone join in this conversation? Or is this just some private thing between the two of you?’ David interjected dryly, drawing their attention to the fact that he was still in the room.
It was a fact both of them seemed to have momentarily forgotten in their antagonism towards each other, Molly acknowledged, and she shot David a rueful smile.
‘Luncheon is served,’ she announced decisively, turning to smile at Sam as he came into the room. ‘Are they okay?’ she prompted gently.
He grimaced. ‘Fine.’ He nodded. ‘But this was the very last thing we needed on top of… Well, we could definitely have done without this at the moment,’ he muttered tensely.
Molly frowned at him. ‘On top of what…?’ she prompted, hoping the discord between herself and Gideon wasn’t becoming a problem for the others.
‘Nothing,’ Sam dismissed abruptly. ‘Just forget I said anything,’ he muttered, sitting down to eat his soup distractedly.
‘But Diana—Dr Chisholm,’ David corrected ruefully at their puzzled looks. ‘She told me that she doesn’t foresee any complications with Peter.’
‘I’m sure there won’t be.’ Sam nodded. ‘I’m just worried about Crys, that’s all.’ He shrugged. ‘She looks on our marriage, and Peter’s birth, as her second chance. I don’t want anything to spoil that. Not that it will,’ he added hurriedly.
‘What could possibly happen to spoil it for you?’ Molly looked at her stepbrother dazedly.
‘Exactly—what could?’ Gideon was the one to answer hardly.
Molly didn’t look up from her soup, but nevertheless she sensed his censorious gaze on her. And the reason for it.
So shopping this morning, even getting rid of that spider from her bedroom earlier, had just been a temporary respite after all; Gideon obviously still totally distrusted her where Crys’s happiness was concerned.
And not only was his distrust totally unwarranted, it was also highly insulting.
It also brought into question—once again—Gideon’s own feelings towards Crys…
CHAPTER SIX
‘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!
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WELL, isn’t this a nice scene of domestic harmony?’ David murmured approvingly a short time later.
Molly turned to give him a narrow-eyed warning look. Domesticity, my foot; Gideon was as domesticated as a feral cat. And, in view of the fact that they had been working together in tense silence for the last ten minutes or so, she doubted that he even knew what the word harmony meant as far as she was concerned.
‘All you need is a pinafore, Gideon, and you’ll completely look the part,’ David added with teasing challenge, having given a hasty look round the kitchen to make sure they had put Merlin safely outside before coming completely into the room himself.
Gideon looked at the other man from under raised blond brows. ‘And what part would that be, David?’ he drawled softly.
The actor grinned unabashedly. ‘Why, Assistant Chef, of course,’ he said mockingly.
‘Of course,’ Gideon echoed derisively. ‘Why don’t you make yourself useful and pour us all some more wine?’
‘I won’t, if you don’t mind.’ David replenished their two glasses. ‘Someone has to drive us all to church later tonight,’ he reasoned. ‘As you two seem to have done all the hard work towards dinner, it may as well be me.’ He shrugged.
Molly had completely forgotten their plans to go to the late service that evening. ‘Do you think Crys and Sam will still want to go?’ She frowned, having seen nothing of the other two since delivering Peter’s medicine to them a couple of hours ago.
‘Maybe not.’ David grimaced. ‘But that’s no reason why we shouldn’t.’
‘Why you shouldn’t what?’ Crys asked as she came into the kitchen. ‘Oh, thank you, Molly.’ She hugged Molly when she saw that dinner was already well in hand. ‘I feel awful for deserting you all like this today.’
‘How is the little chap?’ David was the one to ask gently.
‘Much better, thank you.’ Crys sighed her relief, looking less strained than she had earlier this afternoon. The colour was back in her cheeks, too. ‘He’s sleeping quietly at the moment, so Sam should be down in a minute or two. What were you talking about when I came in?’ she prompted interestedly, smiling her thanks as she sat down and accepted the glass of red wine Gideon poured for her.
‘Church later tonight,’ David explained.
‘Oh, yes—you must all go,’ Crys insisted warmly. ‘Sam and I went last year and it was very beautiful, with all the candles alight and decorated with holly. You—’ She broke off as the telephone began to ring.
Molly froze at the sound, turning sharply to Gideon and finding her look returned frowningly as he, too, obviously wondered if this was yet another of those hang-up calls.
‘I’ll get it,’ Sam told them as he came into the kitchen, and plucked the receiver from the wall. ‘Yes? Speaking. Oh, fine thanks,’ he answered warmly seconds later.
Much to Molly’s relief, and Gideon’s, too, if his smile was anything to go by, this obviously wasn’t another of those calls.
‘Much better,’ Sam continued. ‘No, I’m sure there’s no need for you to do that. Although…’ He put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Is there enough dinner for one extra?’ he prompted softly.
‘Molly?’ Crys turned to her.
‘I’m sure there is,’ she confirmed lightly, wondering exactly who the ‘one extra’ was going to be; Sam’s tone was extremely warm and cordial, so it certainly wasn’t a reporter.
Sam removed his hand from the mouthpiece. ‘Why don’t you come over anyway and join us for dinner? No, of course you wouldn’t be intruding,’ he added firmly. ‘We’re eating about eight, so come about seven-thirtyish. I believe several of us are going to church later, if you would like to join us for that, too…? Fine, we’ll see you later, then.’ He rang off. ‘Diana Chisholm is going to join us for dinner,’ he announced happily.
‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ Crys smiled her pleasure. ‘I didn’t like the idea of her spending Christmas on her own.’
‘You may as well open this house up for all waifs and strays!’ David remarked caustically, scowling. Then he seemed to realise what he had just said. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered harshly. ‘If you’ll all excuse me?’ He turned and strode purposefully from the kitchen.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Sam looked as dazed by the other man’s abrupt departure as they had all been by the remark that had preceded it.
‘My insensitivity, I think.’ Crys gave a grimacing sigh. ‘After all, it’s David’s first Christmas without Cathy, which can’t be easy after all those years of marriage.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll go and talk to him.’
‘No, I’ll go,’ Gideon offered, putting down his wineglass. ‘It’s a man thing,’ he assured Crys gently as she would have protested. ‘Less embarrassing all round if I go, and especially for David,’ he added ruefully.
It might be less embarrassing for David, but Molly had serious doubts about Gideon being the one to deal with such a sensitive subject.
‘Unless you would like to go?’ Gideon paused beside Molly, obviously guessing at least some of her thoughts.
Although the mockery in his gaze seemed to imply he had completely misconstrued the reason for her expression of doubt. As usual.
‘Not at all,’ she assured him lightly. ‘As you say, it’s a man thing.’ She looked up at him challengingly.
She was not in the least interested in David in the way this man seemed to be implying she was, but if he wanted to go on thinking that, that was his problem.
Gideon continued to look at her for several long seconds, then with an abrupt nod of his head he followed the other man from the room.
‘Phew,’ Sam breathed ruefully. ‘Exactly what’s been going on here today while Crys and I have been otherwise occupied?’ He looked questioningly at Molly.
Apart from Gideon insulting her at every opportunity, then almost kissing her, and a photograph of them all being spread all over the newspaper—giving yet another excuse for Gideon to be insulting to her—and then being inundated with strange hang-up calls, absolutely nothing had been happening today!
All of which she had no intention of so much as mentioning to either Sam or Crys.
‘Just normal Christmas Eve tensions,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘Now, tell me, Crys.’ She turned to her friend and sister-in-law. ‘Do you want me to serve an orange or an apple sauce with the duck this evening?’
Anything to do with cooking was guaranteed to distract Crys, and the two women discussed the merits of both sauces before deciding on apple. All the time Molly was aware of Sam watching her with amused green eyes, as if completely aware of her distracting tactics—and not fooled by them for a moment.
But then she and Sam had always been as close, if not closer, than real brother and sister. Sam was often able to tell what she was thinking before she was aware of it herself. She only hoped he didn’t pick up on some of the things she had been thinking about Gideon Webber today. They were too contrary for her to make any sense of, let alone anyone else.
Think of the devil…
Molly felt herself stiffen defensively as Gideon strode back into the room, his good humour restored if his grin was anything to go by. Hopefully he had had the same success with David.
‘Everything okay?’ Crys prompted concernedly.
‘He’ll be down shortly,’ Gideon reassured her. ‘He’s decided to shower and change before dinner.’
‘Well, at least he is joining us.’ Sam grimaced.
‘Of course he is.’ Gideon’s grin widened. ‘I only had to point out the advantages of having such a lovely and accomplished woman join us for dinner for him to agree to that.’
Oh, and what was she? Molly wondered disgruntledly. Chopped liver?
Probably, as far as Gideon was concerned, she accepted heavily.
Sam’s actress sister—at the moment splattered with grease from basting the duck, her face flushed from the Aga, her hair frizzed up from the heat—couldn’t really compare to someone as coolly beautiful and caring as the doctor she had met earlier today.
Rather depressing, really, she acknowledged ruefully. Even if it was true.
‘You two lovely ladies apart, of course,’ Gideon added dryly. Rather too tardily, as far as Molly was concerned.
‘Too late, I’m afraid, Gideon,’ Crys told him laughingly, turning to link her arm with Molly’s. ‘Let’s all have a bit of fun and dress up for dinner. After all, it is Christmas. Molly, what say you and I leave these two men to lay the table while we go upstairs and change before dinner?’
‘Sounds good to me!’ Molly grinned conspiratorially, deliberately putting her nose in the air as the two of them swept out of the room.
Crys gave a rueful shake of her head as they climbed the wide staircase together. ‘So tell me, what’s really been happening today while Sam and I have been upstairs with Peter?’ she prompted dryly.
‘Not a lot,’ Molly said lightly, deliberately keeping her expression deadpan.
‘Liar!’ Her friend laughed softly. ‘You and Gideon seem to be getting along together?’
‘If by that you mean I haven’t actually hit him over the head with one of your saucepans yet, then, yes, I suppose that we are,’ Molly answered disgustedly.
Crys’s chuckle deepened. ‘Gideon is a love.’
Molly almost stumbled up the last stair in surprise at this statement. A love? Gideon?
‘Well, I think he is,’ Crys added with a frown of consternation at Molly’s reaction to this statement.
‘Probably because he is, as far as you’re concerned,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m a completely different matter, I’m afraid. Perhaps it’s just that he doesn’t approve of actresses,’ she added, as Crys looked less than happy.
‘But he did come and dispose of that spider for you last night,’ Crys reminded her cajolingly.
‘Crys, it’s a mistake for you to try to matchmake between Gideon and me.’ Molly didn’t even attempt to correct her friend concerning Gideon’s ‘disposal’ of the spider. What was the point? Probably she and Gideon would never meet again after this Christmas holiday. There was no point in upsetting Crys’s friendship with Gideon just because she found him a sadistic swine.
‘Sam’s been talking to you,’ Crys guessed indignantly.
‘Not at all,’ Molly said easily, having no intention of implicating Sam in any of this. ‘I would have to be blind not to see what you’re up to,’ she told her friend affectionately. ‘But just stop, hmm? I’m not Gideon’s type. And he certainly isn’t mine,’ she added more forcefully. ‘I’ve never been attracted to that arrogant, macho type.’
‘But—’
‘Excuse me, ladies,’ cut in an icy-cold voice from behind them. ‘But you appear to be blocking the stairway,’ Gideon added pointedly as he stood on the step behind them.
Molly closed her eyes briefly before looking up at the ceiling above them, all other thoughts fleeing as she saw the yellow rose painted in the dome above. James’s trade mark…
She became completely still. She had forgotten that she had recommended James’s work to Sam when he’d been looking for an interior designer to come here four years ago, but that yellow rose above them in the domed ceiling reminded her all too forcefully of the friend, husband and brother the three of them had all lost.
For a few seconds everything seemed to stop, including time and sound, and a mellow calm settled over her before she once again became aware of exactly where she was. And whom she was with.
She turned sharply, hoping that Crys hadn’t seen her brief distraction, or the reason for it; the last thing she wanted to do at this time was to remind Crys of the husband she had loved and lost. But she needn’t have worried; Crys had been distracted herself by one of the Christmas decorations on the stair banister that had come loose, and she was attempting to fix it back in place.
Not so Gideon, Molly saw with dismay. His jaw was set rigidly, blue eyes glittering with fury as he glanced up at the domed ceiling and then back at her.
Molly stepped away. ‘I’ll see you both later,’ she managed to murmur before hurrying up another set of stairs to her bedroom on the third floor.
She closed the door thankfully behind her, knowing it was pointless even trying to explain to Gideon what had happened just now; he didn’t seem to believe a word she said anyway. And especially when it came to the subject of his brother James…
She was almost knocked off her feet as the door was pushed open behind her, and regained her balance to turn and see Gideon silhouetted in the doorway.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he snapped furiously, moving into the room to close the door behind him with barely suppressed violence, his eyes glittering dangerously as he looked across at her with unconcealed contempt.
Molly swallowed hard. She could try pretending she had no idea what he was talking about, but she had a feeling that would just make him angrier still. If that were possible! But at the same time she knew he wasn’t going to believe her if she told him the truth—that just for a moment, for a very brief moment, she had felt a closeness with James, an emotional affinity, and had mentally assured him that Crys was happy again now, that Sam would take care of her always.
If she even tried to put that into words she knew how stupid it would sound.
And to someone like Gideon, who seemed to enjoy thinking the worst of her, it would sound so much worse than stupid…
‘Well?’ he bit out harshly, a nerve pulsing in his jaw, hands clenched at his sides.
Molly drew in a deep breath. What could she say? How could she explain?
‘How dare you moon about like some lovesick idiot?’ Gideon rasped before she could formulate any sort of reply. ‘James is dead,’ he snapped viciously, before stepping forward to grasp her arms painfully in his hands and shake her slightly. ‘Dead—don’t you understand? When are you all going to accept that!’
Molly felt the colour drain from her cheeks at the stark brutality of his words. She knew James was dead, they all did, but that was no reason not to think of him sometimes. Especially now. Christmas was like that—a time of warmth and joy, but also a time to think of loved ones who were no longer here.
She shook her head. ‘I have accepted it—’
‘No,’ he rasped forcefully, shaking her again. ‘I don’t think you have.’
Molly’s breath caught sharply in her throat. ‘I don’t give a damn what you think—’
‘In that case…’ Without any warning, any indication of what was coming, Gideon’s mouth came crashing down on hers.
Molly was too stunned by the assault to respond at first, her breath lodged somewhere in her chest as Gideon crushed her against the hardness of his body, his arms like steel bands, his mouth ruthlessly plundering her own.
But that blinding numbness only lasted for a matter of seconds, and then Molly started fighting against him in earnest, her hands pushing at his chest as she wrenched her mouth away from the punishing determination of his.
‘Stop it!’ she gasped, glaring up at him with pained brown eyes. ‘Gideon, stop this!’ she cried again as his eyes glittered fiercely down at her.
He became very still, his face pale, set in grim lines as he stared down at her with narrowed eyes, his hands still tightly gripping her arms.
Probably as well; she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t collapse completely if Gideon weren’t holding her upright.
‘Please—stop,’ she groaned emotionally.
She simply couldn’t take any more today. The last twenty-four hours seemed more like a hundred. And it wasn’t over yet.
‘It’s Christmas,’ she added huskily.
Gideon blinked, still frowning darkly, although the glitter seemed to be fading from his eyes.
He shook his head. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ he finally muttered self-disgustedly, releasing her abruptly to step away.
Molly swallowed hard. ‘I have no idea. But I have a feeling you’re going to regret having done it once you have time to think about it,’ she added shakily.
One thing she was absolutely sure of was that the last thing Gideon really wanted to do was kiss her—at the time it had probably just seemed preferable to any other method of silencing her.
Gideon continued to stare at her for several long, breath-stopping moments, and Molly wasn’t sure quite what he was going to do next. In the circumstances, he probably wasn’t too sure himself.
He gave another shake of his head, frowning darkly now. ‘I apologise for…for whatever that was,’ he bit out abruptly, turning sharply away, seeming dazed by his own actions.
Molly felt her heart sink as she watched him walk heavily across the room. ‘Gideon…!’ she cried out as he opened the bedroom door.
‘Yes?’ He turned back to her, his expression bleak.
She bit her bottom lip, not quite sure what to say to him now that she had his attention, only aware that she couldn’t let him leave like this, with so many things left unsaid between them. ‘About James. I—we all still miss him,’ she breathed huskily.
If anything he looked even bleaker. ‘Some of us more than others, it would seem,’ he rasped, not waiting for her answer, but letting himself quietly out of the room.
Molly sat down heavily on the bed to bury her face in her hands as tears fell hotly down her cheeks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘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.
The free sample has ended.
