Snowbound: Miracle Marriage (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 8)

‘I can imagine you in the mountain rescue team,’ Hayley muttered, and then wished she hadn’t when he lifted an eyebrow in question. ‘I mean, you just look the outdoor type,’ she said lamely. ‘What exactly do you do? You go out into the mountains and find people?’ And slide down ropes, and save lives and generally behave like a hero.

Nothing particularly attractive about that, she told herself firmly. He was just doing a job.

‘People often find themselves in trouble in the fells.’

‘Fells?’

‘In the Lake District we call the mountains fells.’ He checked Posy’s knee again. ‘People often underestimate the peaks here. They go out wearing the wrong footgear and with the wrong equipment. And that makes plenty of work for the mountain rescue team. I did it for a few years—my brother still does it. He doesn’t have kids so he can take off at short notice and come back eight hours later without having to worry.’

‘Do you miss it?’

His eyes narrowed, as if he hadn’t asked himself that question. ‘No.’ His gaze slid to Alfie and Hayley sensed that he was protecting his son’s feelings.

Being a single dad had obviously demanded some big sacrifices.

He’d given up something he loved so that he could spend more time with his children.

Her cheeks pink, Hayley looked away from him, telling herself that he wasn’t that attractive. All right, so he could kiss, but just because he had a particular skill in that area, it didn’t make him a good person.

There was certainly no reason for her stomach to feel as though it had been left on the fast spin cycle of the washing machine.

‘Dad, is there any chocolate in those shopping bags?’ Alfie was looking hopefully at the supermarket bags that had been heaped by the door ready to be unpacked. ‘Did you order something to go on the Christmas tree?’

‘Let’s go and take a look.’ Patrick tried to ease the little girl off his lap but she clung to him, her thumb in her mouth, her fist locked in his thick jumper. ‘Sweetheart, Daddy has to spend some time in the kitchen or Christmas isn’t going to happen.’ He bent his head and kissed his daughter’s blonde head, the contrast between strong and vulnerable so vivid that Hayley sighed. Just the sight of Posy’s sweet red stockings against the hard muscle of his thighs was enough to make her tummy tumble.

Oh, help, she didn’t want to feel this way.

This man was no saint.

He’d had sex with her. He hadn’t told her he had children.

‘I’ll sort out the shopping.’ Desperate to look at something other than his unshaven jaw and the tempting line of his lips, Hayley scrambled to her feet, the peas still in her hand. ‘Have you finished with these?’

His gaze searching, Patrick nodded. ‘Yes. Her leg is fine. But I don’t expect you to unload the shopping, Hayley.’

‘It’s fine. Really.’ Decisions, decisions. She really hated making decisions and she was going to have to make one now. Stay or go. Stay or go. Go, obviously. After what had happened, it would be just too embarrassing to stay here, wouldn’t it?

On the other hand, where was she going to go, this late on Christmas Eve?

It would be more sensible to stay. More practical. The last thing she needed was to find herself with nowhere to go. Yes, she’d stay. But not because of Patrick. Her decision had nothing to do with the fact that this man knew how to turn a woman from a solid to a liquid.

She gave a careless shrug, hoping that she looked suitably casual. ‘You haven’t given me a job description, but I presume that unloading shopping is the responsibility of the housekeeper.’

Alfie gave a squeal of delight. ‘You’re staying? Yay! We’ll have a proper Christmas lunch.’ He leapt over to the bags and hugged Hayley, and she hugged him back, a lump in her throat. Over the top of his head, she met Patrick’s steady gaze.

‘You’re staying?’

‘Yes.’ She gave an awkward shrug. ‘And let’s just hope it doesn’t prove to be the second biggest mistake of my life.’

‘The first one being?’

Hayley gave him a meaningful look and guided Alfie towards the bags. ‘Come and show me where everything goes, Alfie.’ She needed to keep busy to stop her brain from working overtime. So far it hadn’t done a good job. Her overactive mind had taken her down routes that had brought her nothing but embarrassment.

Next time she saw a happy ending on the horizon she was going to reprogramme her internal sat nav.

‘There’s chocolate in those bags.’ Alfie bounded over the bags with all the energy of an over-excited puppy. ‘When do we put the turkey in the oven?’

‘Not until the morning.’ Hayley smiled at him. ‘Actually, I think you can cook it overnight in the Aga, but we’re not going to do that. We’ll cook it tomorrow.’