The Christmas Bride (4 page)

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Authors: Heather Graham Pozzessere

BOOK: The Christmas Bride
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She was touching him, she realized. While she had been speaking, she had let her hand cover his to emphasize her sincerity.

She jerked her hand away, and her eyes fell from his. “I am sorry.”

He moved, first walking around behind her, then behind his desk. He sat and idly tapped a pencil against his blotter. “If that's your real reason, there's no problem at all.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can come, too.”

“Oh, but I can't. Really, I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I have work here—”

“You can work in New Hampshire.”

“But I may need things that are here—”

“They can be expressed or faxed.”

It was so simple for Jason McCready. Everything was always at his fingertips. Well, she wasn't.

“I'm sorry.”

“Oh,” he murmured. “Well, if you're involved with someone…”

“No, no, it's nothing like that!” she protested. Then she was furious with herself because she had just admitted to this man that there was no one in her life.

She stood up. “Life just isn't like that!” she exclaimed. “You don't live in the real world! No one else can just snap their fingers and have whatever they want!”

He looked at her with a slow, rueful smile curving his lips. “I do live in the real world, Mrs. Adams. I once swore to God that I would trade anything I had if Sara could just breathe, just speak, one more time. It didn't happen. I'm very aware that the world cannot always move my way. There were two reasons I pulled it all back together, Mrs. Adams. This business, for one. Almost a hundred people are dependent on it for their livelihoods. And I held it together for my daughter. I'm not doing anything terrible here. I'm asking you and your son on a week's skiing trip, and you might just forget yourself long enough to allow the both of you to enjoy it!”

Cary didn't know what was disturbing her so much. She leaped to her feet. “I'm sorry!” she snapped again.

And then she spun and hurried out of the office as fast as she could.

June was eagerly awaiting her downstairs, but Cary couldn't talk to June. She rushed past, shaking her head and casting her friend a look that promised she would explain later.

“Were you fired?” June called as Cary hurried by.

“No!” Cary said. She closed the door to her office and leaned against it, looking at her hands. They were shaking.

What was wrong with the idea? Jason McCready had asked her and Danny on a nice trip. She should be grateful and go. Skiing in New Hampshire. It would be beautiful. The snow would be all over the ground. The lodges would all be decked out in their Christmas finery.

She closed her eyes. She knew why she had said no. She didn't want to be somewhere like a beautifully decorated ski lodge. Not with Jason McCready.

Because she found him way too interesting. She had liked him better when he had been entirely cold and distant. She didn't like seeing into any part of his personality.

She was becoming more and more aware…

Of him as a man.

The phone on her desk starting ringing. She walked over and picked it up.

“Cary Adams here.”

“Please?”

The voice was low, deep and very rich. And she was startled when she felt a smile curve her lips.

“It's just not possible. I'm sure that it's very crowded this time of year. I'll never be able to get accommodations—”

“Yes, you will.”

“It can't be that easy—”

“Yes, it can.”

“But—”

“Mrs. Adams,” he murmured wearily, “I own the lodge.”

“Oh,” Cary replied softly.

“Well?”

“I…” She hesitated again. There seemed to be every reason in the world for her to go. Danny would be delighted. And she would please Angela McCready, and Angela seemed like such a sweet little girl. There was no reason at all that she shouldn't go.

Yes, there was. McCready himself.

He hadn't made any illicit overtures toward her, she reminded herself dryly. He hadn't made any overtures at all.

Still, there was something…

“Mrs. Adams?”

“All right. All right, we'll come.”

“I'll pick you up at your house on Sunday morning. Nine o'clock. Is that all right?”

Her palm was damp, Cary realized. “Yes,” she said. Sunday morning.

What had she done?

 

Sunday morning came, and Cary waited anxiously for nine o'clock to come. How did Jason McCready travel? Would he pick her up with an entourage? In a limo? Maybe a Mercedes. No. A Rolls.

“You all right, Mom?”

She was looking out the apartment window, and she would have been chewing her nails if she hadn't already donned her gloves. Bless Danny. He thought it was the most natural thing in the world that her boss should have invited them on a ski weekend. Oh, the innocence of children!

But then, she had been the only one to see anything at all wrong. June had been ecstatic. “He likes you, kid, he really likes you!” And then, in the middle of Cary's office, she had loudly said “Hmm! He's definitely tall, dark and handsome!”

“And a recluse. And deeply in love with his deceased wife,” Cary had remarked flatly.

“Well, look at that, will you? You're deeply in love with your deceased husband, he's deeply in love with his deceased wife. What a couple.”

“We're not a couple at all. I'm certain he'll have a date up there for…well, for some function. I'm just going as…as…”

“The nanny?” June had suggested drolly.

“Right. The nanny,” Cary had agreed sweetly, making a face.

“Well, we did order tall, dark and handsome for Christmas. And he's rich, too.”


We
didn't order tall, dark and handsome.
You
did,” Cary had reminded her.

“That's right. According to Jeremy, all we needed to find for you is someone who doesn't wear his boxer shorts pulled up over his belt.”

“Would you get out of here, please?” Cary had moaned.

“Hmm,” June had speculated again. And Cary had thrown her out of her office as nicely as she could.

But now that the time was coming nearer and nearer, Cary was nervous. She might have been invited because of Danny, but Jason McCready had never suggested that she was along to play nanny for the children.

But then, she wasn't one of his real guests, either. So where did that leave her? And why did she care so much?

She leaned her forehead against the windowpane and felt the searing cold come through. Her stomach was in knots, she was so nervous.

Too sensitive. And defensive. She had to relax. Well, she would try.

A Jeep Wagoneer pulled up to the curb as she stared out the window. Her eyes widened when she saw the very tall figure of Jason McCready slide from the driver's seat.

He was in blue jeans and a leather jacket, hatless despite the cold. He looked up and managed to find her face right there in the window. His dark hair was out of order, lifted by the wind, falling over his forehead, and his eyes were very bright. Instinctively, Cary wanted to withdraw. But he had seen her, and he was smiling. Then he waved, and her heart turned another little somersault, because she suddenly realized just how attractive a man he was.

She smiled. So much for the Rolls, the limo or the Lincoln. He'd come in a Jeep.

“He's here!” Danny shrieked delightedly.

“Yes, yes, he's here. Grab your bags, Danny. And don't scream quite so loudly, or we won't last the first day!” she advised him. But Danny wasn't chastised. He cast her a lopsided grin, his eyes alight with pleasure. He scooped up his duffel bag and headed for the apartment door, casting it open just as Jason McCready appeared before it.

“Well, I was about to ask if you were ready or not, but it appears that you are,” he told Danny.

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I'm ready. This is great! Just great. Did I say thank you?”

Jason McCready seemed pleasantly amused. “Yes, you did. And I thank you for coming. Angela is very excited. She's in the car. Want to take your things and run on down? I'll get your mom's bag.”

Danny ran out, and Cary found herself face-to-face with Jason McCready. She moistened her lips, alarmed that she was so nervous.

It seemed that she stood there forever, feeling those green eyes touch down on hers. And despite the cold of the day, she felt a warmth creeping swiftly through her.

“Is that your only bag?” he asked.

“What? Oh, yes, that's it, thank you,” she murmured.

He collected her bag. As he did so, his eyes swept the apartment.

She loved antiques, and they fit well with her building, a three-storied federal brick that had been built in the early eighteen hundreds. The parlor was a compilation of Edwardian and Victorian pieces she had lovingly stripped and stained and polished herself. A braided rug covered the floor before the fireplace, and a deep old leather sofa was covered with an afghan. Little copper pots and other bric-a-brac decorated the buffets and cabinets. Blue and white Dutch patterned draperies hung at the windows. It wasn't contemporary; it probably wasn't in the least what Jason McCready was accustomed to. But it was a warm and very inviting room.

He didn't comment on it, only said, “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “You're not going off into a den of lions, you know.”

She arched a brow and stiffened. Jason McCready's smile deepened. There was no way, of course, that she could know that he was thinking that the spines of his little porcupine were already bristling away.

Cary hurried through the door.

She also didn't realize that, as she brushed by him, he breathed in the clean scent of her hair. Or that the subtle charisma of her perfume trailed sweetly through the air.

She was just too aware herself. Of Jason McCready. Big, so very tall in her antique doorway, his shoulders exceptionally broad and attractive in the leather jacket.

She would certainly have no complaints if she was dating this man, she thought. His underwear was not pulled well over his belt line. His belt line was perfect. All of him was perfect.

That wasn't fair. She knew a lot of attractive men, and she had been teasing about the underwear. It had very little to do with looks. McCready's appeal was all in his eyes, in the little line around them, in the richness of his voice, in his rare smile….

And then she nearly gasped aloud. She wasn't dating Jason McCready. She was accompanying her son on a trip to the man's ski lodge!

With her cheeks flaming, she hurried down the stairs. By the time she reached the streets, she thought she had regained a little of her composure.

The kids were already in back, chatting away. Angela leaped from her seat while Jason packed Cary's bag in the rear of the vehicle. She threw her slender little arms around Cary, so giving, so trusting. “Thank you! Thank you so much for coming. Daddy said you might not let Danny come along, but I knew you would. I'm so glad that you're going to be with us!”

“Thank you,” Cary murmured. Jason was coming round to open her door. She stared at him, and he shrugged. She hadn't realized that he knew her well enough to warn his daughter that she might very well refuse.

The passenger door was open, and he was waiting. She slipped into the Jeep, and the door closed behind her.

Jason McCready went around and slid into the driver's seat. A plaid thermal blanket lay on the seat between them. He flashed Cary a quick smile. “It's a long drive. About three hours. Just in case you get cold.”

“Thanks,” she said.

There was very little traffic, even in Boston. The kids chatted away while Jason expertly steered the large vehicle through the narrow streets, past the Common and toward the turnpike.

“Do you ski?” he asked Cary. She shook her head. He shrugged. “Well, we can solve that in a week.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Really,” she murmured. “You don't have to worry about entertaining me. I'm just along for Danny. I'll be all right.”

She nearly jumped a mile when his arm stretched out across the seat and his fingers curved around her neck. He flashed her a very quick smile.

“Relax, Mrs. Adams! It
is
a ski lodge. It's where people learn to ski. And you and Danny are both my guests, I'm very much hoping that you'll enjoy yourself.”

The most absurd sensation swept through her. Tears stung her eyes, and she suddenly longed with all her heart to move closer against him. To lay her head on his shoulder. To relax…to feel his fingers, warm and sure, working away the tension at her nape….

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