A Wedding in December

The only way seemed to be to remove herself, so she stepped back and scooped up her wet clothes. “I’ll take that shower before hypothermia sets in.”

He didn’t answer and when she glanced at him there was a tiny furrow between his brows as if he was trying to figure out what had just happened.

If he’d asked, she wouldn’t have been able to tell him.

Her heart had been as frozen as her skin, but his touch had thawed it and now all she felt was pain and more than a little confusion.

She locked the bathroom door, stripped off the last of her clothes and stepped under the hot water.

By the time she’d dried her hair and dressed, he’d made hot drinks and that brief moment of intimacy had passed.

“We had a delivery while you were in the shower.” His voice sounded so normal it made her wonder if the awkward moment earlier had all been in her imagination.

“What type of delivery? Please tell me it’s not a crate of champagne.”

“An envelope. It’s addressed to you—from Catherine.”

She took the envelope from him and opened it, smoothing the page. Would he notice that her hand wasn’t steady? “It’s an itinerary.”

“For what?”

Maggie sat down hard on the sofa. “This is awkward. Catherine has arranged some special activities for us.”

“Why is that awkward? It’s thoughtful. What sort of activities?”

She fiddled with the envelope. “Couples activities.” She didn’t look at him. “Romantic activities.” And then she was thinking of that moment again, the moment when his touch and breathing had altered.

Nick joined her on the sofa. “Why would she do that?”

“Apparently I told Dan this was a second honeymoon for us, and he passed that information on to her.” She looked at him. “Sorry.”

His eyes gleamed. “That’s what happens when you drink too much champagne.”

“That’s what happens when someone forces me onto a plane.” She flopped her head bac

k against the sofa. “How can one small modification of the truth create such a ripple effect? And I don’t want you to answer that. If you say ‘I told you so’ I’ll push more snow down your pants.”

“I would never say I told you so. That would make me smug. I have many faults, but I’m never smug. I have sympathy with human frailties.”

She lifted her head. “You’re saying I have frailties?”

“No, you’re perfect, apart from the occasional small modification of the truth. If the price we have to pay for that is a few shared activities, I can live with that.”

But could she? Acting a part in public was one thing, but actual togetherness was something different. After what had happened earlier she needed a little distance, not closeness. “What do we do?”

“We can’t offend her when she has been so generous with her hospitality. There’s only one thing we can do. We say thank you and go along with whatever she has arranged.”

“Even if it includes a naked mud bath?”

“Does it?”

“I don’t know. I saw the words second honeymoon and special activities and then my mind blanked with panic.” She glanced down at the paper. “What a tangled mess. I’m starting to realize there is no easy way to tell people you’re breaking up. No right time. You just have to do it. Perhaps we should—”

“No. We shouldn’t. We made a decision and we’re sticking with it. You can’t get cold feet now. We’re in this all the way. For better or worse.” He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. That wasn’t tactful.” He reached across and tugged the paper out of her hand. “I’d like to read what it takes to keep a marriage alive.”

“What if she’s arranged for us to exchange vows under the stars?”

“You could vow never to be economical with the truth again.” He smoothed the sheets of paper on his lap. “Whatever it is, we have to do it.”