Winter Magic: 4 (The Hawks Mountain Series) (9 page)

ANDI WAS SO stunned by Sarah’s reaction to her announcement that she’d be using the Christmas Village as the theme that for a moment, she was speechless. “Is there something wrong with my idea?”

Sarah looked at Granny Jo, then smiled and patted Andi’s hand. “Why no, dear. Nothing at all. It’s a charming idea.”

If there was nothing wrong with it, then why had Sarah had such a strong reaction? Andi allowed the question to go unasked. Evidently it was not something Sarah wanted to talk about with Granny Jo present. However, Andi was so surprised by the odd reaction that she had trouble concentrating on the conversation going on around her through the rest of the meal.

SNOW HAD BEGUN falling shortly after Andi, Sarah, and Granny Jo had sat down to lunch. By the time they were enjoying the last of their peach cobbler and coffee, a fresh blanket of white covered everything outside. The wet snow clung to the tree branches and shrubs and had turned the grounds of the Prince estate into a sparkling fairy land.

While her table companions went on and on about stiches and fabric choices, Andi gazed longingly out the large window overlooking the back lawn. The tension due to the prospect of working so closely with Jonathan and her efforts to understand Sarah’s response to the proposed gala theme had brought on a dull throbbing in Andi’s temples. How she would love to be out there in the crisp air and allow it to clear her mind of all the doubts and fears that had taken up residence inside her since she’d agreed to stand in for her sister.

Sarah covered Andi’s hand with her own to still it. When she looked down she realized she’d twisted the linen napkin into a corkscrew. “Are you alright, dear?”

Forcing a smile, Andi rose and placed her napkin on the table beside her plate. “I’m fine. I’m going to change my clothes and take a walk outside to clear my head before I tackle the details of the theme for my presentation to Jonathan.” She hesitated. “Is that okay?”

Sarah smiled. “Of course, dear. Take all the time you need.”

Andi excused herself, then left the dining room. She slipped outside and gathered the grunge clothes she kept in Bess’ backseat, then came back inside and hurried upstairs. Once in the room she’d use as her office, she got out of Miranda’s clothes and donned her comfortable, worn sweatpants, a baggy sweater, and a pair of boots that had seen much better days. Then she put on her coat, ran back downstairs and out the back door.

ALTHOUGH JONATHAN had only worked a few hours in his city office, he felt like he’d put in a full day. His shoulders ached and his temples throbbed. Negotiating contracts with pig-headed, full-of-themselves authors ranked right at the top of his list of his least favorite aspects of this job. But pushing all that aside, right now all he wanted was to get home, kick off his shoes, put his feet up, and relax with a cold, stiff drink.

And to see Andi,
a little annoying voice whispered. Unwilling to delve into where that thought had come from, he concentrated on the road.

The miles seemed to drag, but he finally saw the roof of his house above the trees and guided the car up the curved drive, parking behind Andi’s orange bug. For a time, he sat there staring at her car. He had to admit that the disreputable vehicle had a certain charm about it, right down to its dented fender. It looked comfortable an unpretentious, just like Andi. He still had to wonder why the car company had given her such a wreck as a loner while her sleek Ferrari was being repaired, and why it was taking so long.

Deciding it was really none of his business, he climbed from his car. He hurried into the house and straight down the hall to his office. Without even removing his coat, he poured two fingers of scotch into a rocks glass and downed it. Refilling the glass, he moved to the window overlooking the backyard.

As he stared out into the white landscape, he spotted Andi deeply engrossed in building a snowman. On impulse, he set the glass aside and slipped out the back door that led to his private patio. From behind the cover of a large bush, he watched her intense concentration on her task.

She was just putting the finishing touches on her snowman’s face by strategically positioning a couple of stones for the eyes. He had to smile at how she carefully considered the exact placement, as if her creation would stand in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. When she seemed satisfied, she stood back and admired her work.

“You are a handsome devil,” she told the snowman. “But you need a name.” For a long moment, she thought about it, then smiled. “You are a bit on the chilly side, so I’m going to call you Jonathan.”

Her choice of names took him aback. Chilly? Him? Is that how she saw him?

A playfulness he hadn’t experienced since childhood rose up in him. He’d show her chilly. Pulling his gloves from his pocket, he slipped them on, then gathered a handful of snow and formed it into a soft ball. Taking careful aim, he threw it at her and hit her square in the back.

Surprised, Andi jumped and turned around. There stood Jonathan, hands on hips, grinning at her like a cat that had just discovered a bowl of fresh cream. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to do, and then she grinned back at him.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, she mirrored his stance. “This means war, you know.”

His smile deepened and an unfamiliar mischievousness sparkle appeared in the depths of his eyes. “Bring it on.”

For a moment his smile swamped her senses. She couldn’t think. Before she could summon her consciousness, another snowball hit her in the arm. “Sneaky, Prince.”

“As they say, all’s fair in love and war and snowball fights,” he shouted back and fired another snowball at her, missing her but taking off the head of his namesake.

Crouching behind the torso of the snowman, Andi scooped up a handful of snow and quickly formed a ball. “No one treats my snowman like that. You’ve had it now.” She stepped out and threw the snowball, hitting Jonathan in the shoulder.

“Nice shot, Cameron.” Humor colored his tone. “But you’ll pay for it.”

Quickly, before he had a chance to throw another snowball at her, she resumed her position behind her snowy protector, then bent and began making a supply of ammunition to pepper him with.

Suddenly, two strong arms encircled her from behind and dragged her to the ground. She looked up into Jonathan’s grinning face. In his right hand, he held a gob of loose snow. She was sure his intent was to wash her face. The way his hair lay in disarray, his cheeks glowing pink from the cold and pure impishness shining from his eyes, he reminded her of the little boys in her kindergarten class.

Andi struggled to get free, but with his considerable weight pinning her down, the effort was futile. Finally, she stilled, resigned to her fate. But it didn’t happen. Instead, Jonathan became motionless. The smile disappeared, replaced by. . . What? Was that desire heating his gaze? She took a deep breath, which did nothing more than press her breasts against him. The heated emotion in his eyes darkened. At first he’d been playful, almost childish. Now he looked at her with a hunger she’d never seen in a man’s face before. Who was
this
Jonathan Prince?

Jonathan tried to breathe, but he couldn’t get his lungs to cooperate. All he could do was stare in mesmerized fascination at Andi. He couldn’t recall ever seeing a more beautiful woman in his life. Certainly none of those plastic social butterflies he’d met could compare to her natural beauty.

Snowflakes clung to her lashes like tiny diamonds glittering in the sunlight. Her hair lay against the pristine snow like a halo. Her cheeks glowed a rosy pink. And her lips. Lord, her lips. Red and moist and so very inviting.

Slowly, he lowered his head until his mouth tentatively touched hers. Cold and sweet and tasting of fresh air and sunshine. He waited, expecting her to pull away. When she didn’t, he deepened the kiss, savoring the feel of her mouth beneath his. He’d kissed a lot of women in his lifetime, but none felt like her. None had the power to stir emotions deep inside him that had lain dormant for a very long time.

Her hands stole around his neck, the snow clinging to her gloves chilly against his hot skin. She pulled him down, melding their mouths together in a kiss that seemed to never end. That he never wanted to end.

With her senses swamped by Jonathan’s mouth on hers, Andi barely heard the tiny voice inside her head telling her to stop. The thudding of her heart drowned it out. Hadn’t she wanted this from the day she’d first met him? Hadn’t she dreamed about it, longed for it?

The pressure on her lips eased, and she opened her eyes, alarmed that he was going to stop. She stared up at him. His breath fanned her cheeks, and she could detect the faint, but not unpleasant, smell of scotch.

Then over his shoulder, movement in the upstairs window caught her attention. Looking down at them, a smile curving her lips, Sarah watched their every move. Her smile deepened. She raised her hand and gave Andi a thumbs up.

Mortified at being discovered in such a compromising position with the woman’s nephew, Andi squirmed from beneath Jonathan and scrambled to her feet.

“I
 . . .
I have some work to—” She turned abruptly and hurried into the house, leaving Jonathan sitting in the snow staring after her.

ANDI WOULD HAVE rather walked to Charleston barefooted than enter the room where Sarah and Granny Jo were doing their quilting lessons, but her dry clothes were in there, and after her romp in the snow with Jonathan, she was soaked straight through to her undies. She didn’t really have a choice, but she knew at least one of them would want answers about the kiss that had just taken place on the back lawn.

Still unprepared to face either of them, she stopped just outside the door and leaned against the wall.

How could she give answers to them about something she didn’t even have answers for herself? Why had she kissed him back?
Because, with his lips so temptingly close, she couldn’t think of a way not to kiss him.
So, did that mean she was falling for Jonathan? Maybe.
Oh, who was she kidding?
Women who aren’t interested don’t respond to a kiss like she had. Did they? Nor do they feel that response right down to their toes. Did they?

The finality of the truth hit her like a sack of rocks to the midsection.

Oh, good Lord, she’d let down her guard and fallen for Jonathan. How had she let that happen, and why didn’t she feel better about it? Shouldn’t she be happy, joyful, looking at it as an uplifting experience? So why did she feel only dread and a sense of impending disaster? The answer came fast and plain. When Miranda showed up, he’d be blinded by her beauty and forget all about her plain sister.

Devastated, Andi sank down against the wall outside the office. The pain she’d suffer over losing Jonathan would be a lot worse than any of those immature schoolgirl crushes that had tanked, or the college infatuations that had gone horribly wrong. This time, if she allowed it to go any farther, it would rip her heart out by its roots.

A few moments passed before she realized that she was shivering from her cold, wet clothing. Sighing, she wrapped her arms around her upper body and readied herself to face the questions of at least one of the two women inside. Before she could stand up, a hand gripped her shoulder. She looked up into Sarah’s kind face.

“You’re ice cold, child. Go inside, and I’ll bring you a robe and a towel.”

“Thanks,” Andi managed without meeting her gaze.

Sarah patted Andi’s shoulder, then hurried off toward the linen closet. Slowly, Andi rose and entered the office. Granny Jo sat in one of the large overstuffed chairs, a colorful, partially finished quilt draped over her lap. She looked up and grinned at Andi, then went back to her sewing.

From the twinkle in Granny Jo’s eye, Andi knew Sarah must have shared what she’d seen on the back lawn.
Darn!
Oh well, Andi might as well face it and get it over with.

She sat down on the floor, unwilling to get the overstuffed furniture wet. “I suppose Sarah told you.”

Granny looked up from her sewing. “Told me what?” The childlike innocence shining from the older woman’s expression didn’t fool Andi.

But it did make her smile, so she played along. “About Jonathan and me.”

Granny put her needle down. “Yes, she did.” She studied Andi for a moment before she said more. “My goodness, child! You’re not embarrassed, are you?” Andi nodded. “Well, you have no reason to be. Kissing is as natural as walking across the street. None of us would be here without a little kissing.”

Again, Andi had to smile. “It’s not so much being embarrassed as it is—” What was it? If she wasn’t embarrassed, why did she loathe the fact that Sarah and Granny knew what had just taken place in the snow? She glanced at Granny. The older woman waited with an expectant arch to her eyebrows. “I’m not really sure why it bothers me.”

Granny Jo smiled. “Aren’t you?” She placed her sewing on the footstool beside her and then leaned back while folding her hands in her lap. From the time Granny Jo had spent helping out in Andi’s class, she recognized this as an unmistakable sign that the older woman was about to launch into one of her stories.

“When I first met my Earl, my family was dead set against us dating. He came from the mountains, had never graduated high school and made a living with his hands. All things my hoity-toity rich family frowned on. But we were in love and determined to be together. So we sneaked around, meeting in places my family wouldn’t be caught dead in. All very respectable, but not the kind of place that the Charleston set hung out in.” She smiled. “We were so sure we were getting away with it. But my mother knew. Know how?”

Andi shook her head.

“The look on my face when I came home. Oh, I’d told her I was going to see a girlfriend, but she knew different.”

“I don’t understand. What about your looks gave you away?”

Granny chuckled. “My mother said she knew I was in love because it showed on my face, like someone wrote it across my forehead in ink.” She leaned forward. “Just like it does on yours.”

Andi started. “Mine? That’s ridiculous.” She stood and went to the window. Keeping her back to Granny Jo, she muttered to herself. “She’s wrong.” Sure, she was indisputably attracted to Jonathan. What flesh and blood woman wouldn’t be? But love? Then below her, in the snow, she spotted the imprint of their bodies and a warm glow came over her that wiped away her chills.

“Darlin’, you can lie to me, and you can lie to yourself, but if you look deep in your heart where you keep your precious dreams, you’ll find the truth.” Her smile evaporated, and her face took on a I’m-gonna-talk-to-you-like-a-mother expression. “Now, about Jonathan. I hear tell he’s a fine man with a good heart. I don’t know what you’re up to, Andrea Cameron, by pretending to be somebody you’re not, but it’s going to come to no good, lies never do. My advice would be to fess up before he finds out.”

Just the thought brought images of Miranda, sick and in pain counting on Andi. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“What? Why on earth not?”

Avoiding Granny Jo’s piercing gaze, Andi mumbled, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Settling back in her chair again, Granny Jo waited.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to get out of this without relating the entire tale of Miranda’s sickness, the contract that would save her sister’s business, and her own part in the ridiculous masquerade, Andi told Granny Jo the whole truth. After all, Granny Jo had already guessed some of it. And it would feel good to tell someone, and she was doing it for a good reason.

“So, you see,” Andi concluded, “if I tell him I’m not really Miranda, then she could lose the contract and her business.”

For a long time, Granny Jo stared thoughtfully out the window and said nothing. Then she turned to Andi. “I think you’re underestimating Jonathan.” But before she could say more, Sarah returned.

“Here you go.” Sarah bustled into the room carrying a white terry robe and bath towel. “Get out of those wet clothes before you catch some kind of bug.”

Too late,
Andi thought.
I already have, and it’s called a love bug.

“Thanks, Sarah.”

Quickly, she took the robe and towel, gathered the clothes she’d come to work in, and hurried off to the bathroom to change. When she returned, the two women were gone. She slipped into the knee high boots she’d selected from Miranda’s huge array of footwear that morning. Because the heels were somewhat lower than the other shoes, Andi was able to walk in these without looking like a drunk.

Once dressed, she noticed her notebook containing her jottings about the gala theme lying on the desk.

Seeing Jonathan came at the bottom of today’s to-do list. For a moment, she considered getting into old Bess and driving away. Then a vision of her sister, pale and weak, in her hospital bed, counting on her to make this happen, flashed across Andi’s mind again.

Though she wished there were some way around it, there wasn’t. She would have loved to follow Granny Jo’s advice and clear the air of all the lies, but she couldn’t take that chance, especially not with her sister so vulnerable. So, once more she’d have to pull Miranda’s butt out of the fire and perhaps hang her own over the flame. Either way, she’d have to suck it up and face Jonathan. But first she had some calls to make.

She settled herself behind the desk, opened the notebook to the pages with the phone numbers she needed, and for the next two hours busied herself calling caterers, florists, carpenters, and electricians.

JONATHAN CLUTCHED a glass of scotch on the rocks and stared fixedly out the window at the imprint he and Andi had left in the snow. Warmth flooded through him as he recalled the feel of her cold lips against his, the rosy softness of her cheeks, and her happy laughter as she pelted him with snowballs. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d felt that light-hearted, that childlike.

Yes, he could. He’d been twelve, and it was the day his mother had died.

He shook away the images. What in God’s name was wrong with him? What had possessed him to act like a child and start the snowball fight to begin with? But even more puzzling was why he hadn’t stopped himself from kissing her.

He’d already decided that Andi was playing a game with him. Since he hadn’t responded to her
femme fatale
act the first day they’d met, she’d decided to play the coy, retiring type instead. Undoubtedly, she’d thought she could catch herself a rich husband by doing so. And he’d encouraged her with that steamy kiss.

Shaking his head in self-disgust, he turned away from the window and took a seat in his desk chair.

What was done was done. He couldn’t take the kiss back. But he could make certain it never happened again.

Sure you can. And tomorrow it’s gonna be one hundred and ten in the shade and snowing.

Who was he kidding? He wanted Andi. He had, almost since the second day she’d walked into his office. There was something about her. A freshness and sincerity he’d never seen in any of the women in his social circle. But wanting and acting on it were two entirely different matters. He—

A light knock sounded on the office door, jolting him out of his thoughts. He didn’t want or need company right now, but to not answer the knock would probably prompt more questions than he was willing to answer, especially if his caller was Aunt Sarah or his father.

“Come in.”

Andi peeked around the door. “Are you busy?”

Despite his determination not to be caught in her web, his heart ceased beating for a fraction of a second before assuming its natural cadence. He shook his head. “No.”

“I thought we might talk about the gala theme.”

Jonathan motioned toward the chair on the other side of his desk. “Have a seat.”

She slipped into the room with a thick notebook clutched close to her chest, sat and, without making eye contact, adjusted her skirt over her thighs. He smiled inwardly as she tugged the hem into a respectable position. She sure was good at this game. But he’d been around enough females with their talons hidden behind a demure façade that he recognized the signs. However, none of them had been as adept at it as Andi. He’d have to keep reminding himself of that so what happened on the lawn wouldn’t happen again.

Still, he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze from her. Every time he saw her, it was as if someone had turned on the sun. It may not be as easy to get Andi Cameron out of his head as he thought it would be.

He cleared his throat. “Before we start, I just wanted to say something about what happened outside earlier—”

Andi could hear the unspoken words ringing in her head. He was sorry he’d kissed her. It was like college all over again
.

I’m sorry, Andi, but it was a mistake for me to lead you on. I’m sorry, Andi, but I don’t feel about you like you do about me. I’m sorry, Andi, but I’m not ready to get serious.

She’d heard it all before. Suddenly, she didn’t think she’d be able to stand hearing Jonathan’s apology and she held up her hand before he said more. “Please. If you’re going to apologize, don’t. It was as much my fault as yours.”

For a long moment, he stared at her. “I wasn’t going to apologize.”

Embarrassment heated Andi’s cheeks. “You weren’t?” Maybe he wasn’t sorry. Maybe he—

“I was going to say that you can be assured it will never happen again.”

Andi’s heart sank.

The chilly man, who was her snowman’s namesake, had reappeared. He leaned back in his chair, looking every inch the powerful man he was. “Sometimes these things happen, but they mean nothing. I suggest we both categorize it as a mistake, sweep it under the rug, and get back to business.”

Andi’s heart felt like someone had driven a semi over it. How stupid could she have been to think that their kiss had meant more than just a chance encounter? Given his incredibly handsome looks and his substantial bank account, he probably had women melting at the sight of him all the time. Why on earth would he think she was anything special?

“I believe you wanted to discuss the gala theme.”

Roused from her tangled emotions, Andi suddenly knew she could not spend another moment in this room with him without humiliating herself even more. Not now. Maybe later, but not now. Bolting to her feet, she clung to her notebook as if it was about to jump out of her arms. “I’m sorry, Mr. Prince. I seem to have forgotten some of my notes.” Before he could respond, she turned and rushed from the room.