The Magic of Christmas (15 page)

‘You want hot chocolate with mince pies? As long as you're not sick. I hate sick.'

Aggie giggled and hopped from one leg to the
other. ‘You can't hate sick. You're a nurse. Nurses are supposed to love sick.'

Lara shuddered dramatically. ‘Trust me, I
hate
sick.'

Aggie stopped jumping and studied her with a frown on her face. ‘You're
really
weird.' She hesitated and then smiled. ‘But you're nice.' She skipped off to talk to Chloe and Lara stared after Aggie, a lump in her throat.

You're nice, too,
she thought.
And I'm going to miss you.
Only she wasn't supposed to think that. She wasn't supposed to love Christian and she wasn't supposed to love his children.

None of this was supposed to have happened.

Everything was going horribly wrong.

Why, oh, why had she ever suggested moving in and helping with the children?

Why had she been so arrogant as to think that she'd be immune to a man as gorgeous as Christian Blake?

Feeling something approaching despair, she glanced towards him, only to find him studying her, molten heat simmering in his blue eyes.

‘What? What's wrong?' Suddenly she didn't
feel cold anymore. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?'
He hadn't looked at her in that way since before the kiss.

He shook his head slowly. ‘I'm trying to work out how I can be violently attracted to a woman who can have a conversation about sick.'

His words took the breath from her body.

She'd assumed that he wasn't interested anymore She'd assumed that the kiss had succeeded in killing off the chemistry for him.

But now it seemed as though he still felt the same way that she did.

Instinctively she glanced towards the children, but they were both busily examining the Christmas tree. ‘
Are
you violently attracted?'

‘Do you doubt it?'

She kept her eyes on the children. ‘I thought that you—you didn't seem—You've been very distant.'

‘That was the idea. Unfortunately it doesn't seem to have worked.' His voice was steady. ‘Keep talking about sick. With any luck I'll see sense sooner rather than later.'

‘Seven-year-olds like talking about bodily functions.' Lara tried to keep her voice light but it was
impossible because her heart was bumping so hard against her chest.

The chemistry was as powerful as ever.

‘This wasn't supposed to happen, Lara.'

‘No.' Her voice was a breathless squeak. ‘It wasn't. It hasn't. I mean…nothing's happened.'

His eyes dropped to her mouth. ‘The kiss was a mistake. A big mistake.'

‘I thought it hadn't bothered you.'

‘Think again.'

She felt as though the breath had been punched from her lungs. ‘I thought we both decided that we were going to forget about it.'

His gaze lifted and a sardonic gleam appeared in his eyes. ‘This has proved to be the one occasion I regret the fact that I have an excellent memory. How about you? How's your forgetting going?'

‘Funny you should bring that up.' She dragged her eyes away from his and watched while Aggie and Chloe took a closer look at the Christmas tree. ‘Why is it that, when you're trying to forget something, that something becomes the only thing you can think about?'

‘I don't know. I'm pondering the same question.'

‘Perhaps we should try not forgetting it and then maybe we'd forget it.'

‘Lara…' He closed his eyes and she whimpered.

‘I know, I know. I'm making no sense. This can't be happening. I've never yet met a man who hasn't driven me to screaming pitch within three dates, and we haven't even been on
one
! It's all your fault. Show me a flaw, quickly. Reveal something positively shocking.'

‘I didn't want this Christmas tree.' The first flakes of snow settled on his dark hair. With his cool, blue eyes and his dark jaw he looked impossibly handsome. ‘Is that shocking?'

‘No, it's sensible. The tree is far too big for your house. Actually, it's too big for anyone's house.' She studied it. ‘It might look good in the middle of Leicester Square. Or maybe we could just ship it to the US. They'd have room for it out there. It's a big country.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You said the tree was perfect.'

‘It
is
perfect. Perfect for the children because they love it. But as for the rest of it…' She gave a helpless shrug and started to laugh, ‘It's going
to scratch the paint from your ceiling and you're going to be clearing up needles for months. And that's if we can even get it home. But it was worth buying it just to see their faces.'

He lifted a hand to his face and shook his head in disbelief. ‘You're worse than the children.'

‘Very possibly.'

‘Why did I ever allow you to move in with me?' His tone was exasperated and she gave a helpless shrug.

‘Because you were in a tight spot and we both thought we could easily resist each other. Obviously we were both a bit overconfident. Let's go home and decorate the tree. There's nothing quite like pine needles digging into your bottom to put a dent in the libido.'

He slipped his hand into his coat and removed his wallet. ‘Chloe wouldn't have minded having a smaller one. We should have bought a smaller one.'

‘I'm glad you didn't.' After a moment's hesitation she followed her instincts and slipped her arm through his. ‘And Chloe wanted this one every bit as much as Aggie, but she didn't want to upset you.'

He stilled, a frown in his eyes. ‘Why would she be afraid of upsetting me? Am I an ogre?'

‘No, of course you're not.' Lara's smile faded. ‘Perhaps she isn't afraid of upsetting you. I could be wrong. I haven't known her long. Perhaps she's just looking after you.'

‘Possibly.'

But it was obvious that he thought it was something more than that and Lara resolved to engineer a way of talking to Chloe about something other than the usual mundane stuff.

‘Daddy, it's snowing!' Shrieking with excitement. Aggie spread out her hands and lifted her face to the sky.

Watching the snowflakes drift gently onto the pavement, they made their way home and then hung lights on the tree and then decorations, including the ones that the girls had made with Lara.

‘We baked them in the oven and painted them,' Aggie told Christian, staring in awe as her wonky star revolved slowly on the Christmas tree. ‘Wow. It looks fantastic. Mummy never let us put our own decorations on the tree because she always said that matching
silver ones looked better, but I don't think they do. This is much more fun.'

Chloe smiled as she hung her own version of a reindeer next to the star. ‘It was fun,' she said shyly, ‘making our own decorations. Thank you, Lara. And I love my new bedroom.'

‘Good.'

Lara glanced at Chloe, puzzled. She was just too polite. She was twelve years old. Almost a teenager and yet she never did anything wrong. She didn't fight with her sister. She didn't argue or stamp or even roll her eyes. What was going on? Suddenly Lara wished that the child would do something that required at least a mild rebuke. Anything that would make it seem less likely that she was bottling up something enormous. ‘I'm going to heat up those mince pies we made. Will you help me, Chloe?'

‘Of course.' Chloe hung the last of the decorations on her side of the tree and walked towards the kitchen with Lara. ‘Just mince pies?'

‘I think so. We only had lunch a few hours ago.' Lara stooped to lift the mince pies out of the oven. ‘So when is the school disco, Chloe?'

‘It's next Saturday.' Chloe took a plate from the cupboard. ‘But I'm not going.'

‘Why aren't you going?'

‘Because it doesn't finish until ten o'clock. That's too late.'

‘Too late for what?' Lara slid the mince pies onto the plate. ‘You're not usually asleep until then and it's the holidays. What's the problem?'

‘I don't want Dad to have to come and pick me up.'

‘Why not?' Lara put milk on to boil and placed mugs on a tray. ‘He wouldn't mind.'

Chloe shook her head. ‘It's too much to ask.'

Lara stood still. ‘Chloe, he's your father. His role is to ferry you everywhere at all sorts of inconvenient hours.
You're not supposed to be this thoughtful!'

‘I don't want to be a bother. He's had a lot to cope with.'

‘Does he look as though he's struggling?'

‘No, but he only ever thinks about work and us. Never about himself.'

Lara rescued the milk from the hob and made the chocolate. ‘Stop thinking about him and
think about yourself. Would you like to go to the disco?'

Chloe didn't look at her. ‘No. I'll stay here.'

No, you won't,
Lara thought to herself as she lifted the tray and carried it through to the living room.
One way or another, Cinderella, you will be going to the ball.

* * *

Christian checked that both girls were asleep and then strolled downstairs to the sitting room.

The Christmas tree lights glowed brightly and the log fire flickered and crackled in the grate. The remains of the game that Aggie had been playing was still strewn over the rug.

The room felt lived in and cosy.

Lara was lying on the sofa, her eyes closed, but she opened them when he walked into the room. ‘Sorry.' She gave a faint smile. ‘Just feeling mildly exhausted.'

‘Full-time employment and children aren't a relaxing combination.'

She gave him a long look and then sat up. ‘Absolutely. Well, I suppose I'd better go to bed.'

‘Running away, Lara?' Part of him hoped that she was. It would make things so much easier.

Her gaze slid to his. ‘Perhaps I am. I don't know what else to do and I've tried all the other alternatives. The tension is making my stomach churn and I've never felt like this before. I don't want to feel this way about you. I need you to reveal a really major flaw very quickly.'

‘I have dozens of major flaws.'

Lara looked at him with something close to desperation. ‘I can't see any of them.'

Christian examined the contents of his glass. ‘My ex-wife called me a cold-hearted bastard who was incapable of making an emotional connection. Does that help?'

‘No. Because I've seen you with your girls. You're wonderful with them. And you're great with worried children in the ED. Not cold at all.'

‘Children are different,' he said softly. ‘They have no artifice, no hidden agenda.'

‘Did your wife have a hidden agenda?'

He stilled. ‘I couldn't give her what she wanted. You need to remember that, Lara. It might be just the flaw you're looking for.'

‘So because the two of you were incompatible, you're never going to get involved with a woman again? Has it occurred to you that it isn't a good example to set? Just because it went wrong once in the past, it doesn't mean it can't go right in the future.'

‘From that comment I take it that your parents are extremely happily married.'

‘Thirty years last June. Why? Are yours divorced now?'

‘Oh, no. Nothing so civilised.' He drained his glass, feeling the warmth from the alcohol spread through his veins. ‘They preferred to stay together and fight.'

‘Oh. Well, I suppose that helps explain why you've managed to create such a lovely stable home for your children.'

‘Have I? They have one parent.'

‘One
loving
parent.'

‘It isn't what I wanted for them.' He hesitated, unsure just how much to reveal. ‘When Fiona left, the girls were torn apart with insecurity. She hadn't ever even spent much time with them but that seemed only to make things worse. They
believed that they were the reason that she left. They knew she hated being a mother.'

Lara winced. ‘She couldn't have hated it that much. She had two children.'

Christian stared into the bottom of his glass. ‘I don't think she ever thought it through. People don't, always. Society expects a woman to be maternal. The last thing she said to me before she left was something like, “You wanted these children, well, it's your turn to look after them.”' He gave a short laugh. ‘The irony was that she never had looked after them. She employed nannies all the way through and I accepted that because I could see that she needed her work.'

‘Do you miss her?'

Christian felt the tension across his shoulders. ‘I feel bad for the girls. When your children are hurting, it's impossible not to ask yourself if you could have done something differently.'

‘Like what?'

‘I don't know.' It was the first time he'd ever spoken his thoughts aloud. ‘But there must have been something more I could have done to have stopped her leaving.'

‘You obviously loved her very much.'

Christian stared at her, wondering how she'd managed to come to that conclusion. ‘There was no love between us at all,' he said flatly. ‘And that was the problem. Love is the one thing you can't manufacture. Everything else can be bought if the money is there. Houses, nannies, good schools—they're all available for a price, but love—no.'

‘You didn't love her?'

Was he supposed to deny the truth?

Christian nursed his empty glass, wondering whether to fill it again. ‘I thought I did,' he said finally. ‘But I was wrong. I married her for the wrong reasons.'

‘Did she love you?'

Why the hell was he telling her this? With a determined effort he put the glass down on the mantelpiece. He didn't need a headache and he didn't need to indulge in maudlin confessions. ‘She loved my money.'

‘I'm sure there was more to it than that,' Lara said softly. ‘You have a lot of very special qualities, Christian.'