The Magic of Christmas

‘There’s not much to tell. I’m an only child. My parents and I aren’t close.’ He lifted his wineglass and drank.

‘They’re not interested in their grandchildren?’ She thought about it for a moment. ‘My mother drives Tom and me nuts with her constant nagging about our reluctance to provide her with grandchildren to spoil. Your parents aren’t the same?’

‘Hardly.’ His tone was neutral. ‘Children, generally, aren’t their favourite thing.’

‘They had you.’

‘Yes, although, I sometimes wonder why. I went to boarding school at seven. Don’t look so shocked. It happens.’

‘I’m just trying to imagine being sent to boarding school at the age of seven. Who hugged you when you had a bad day?’

He topped up their glasses. ‘No one hugged me. I didn’t need anyone to hug me.’

‘Everyone needs affection.’ Lara put her fork down and reached for her wine. ‘So presumably that’s why you’re so careful about the children’s feelings. You’ve been hurt yourself by the breakdown of an adult relationship.’

He stilled. ‘I’ve never analysed it before.’

‘Men never do. Analysis and guilt is a girl thing.’ She lifted her glass. ‘It’s not enough for us to be screwed up—we have to know the reason that we’re screwed up.’

Her comment raised a smile but then he glanced at her, his gaze curiously intent. ‘It’s true that I always envisaged having a traditional family one day,’ he said softly. ‘But that’s an out-of-date concept now, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Then you’re unusual.’ His smile faded and there was a hard edge to his voice that warned her that they were straying onto sensitive territory.

Perhaps talking about the children would reduce the tension in the atmosphere. ‘Did you look in on Chloe?’

‘Yes, she was still reading.’ Christian toyed with his wineglass. ‘It was good to see her dancing and laughing earlier. She seemed more like her old self. Until I turned up.’

‘What do you mean, until you turned up?’

‘You didn’t notice?’

‘She seemed fine to me. It probably wasn’t a great idea to wind them up before bedtime but I wanted them to get into the Christmas spirit before the weekend.’ Lara dropped her eyes to her plate, because the alternative was staring at him. ‘Do you think you’d be able to take them to buy a Christmas tree on Sunday? They’d love it if you could.’

‘I’ll buy one on my way home from work.’

Appalled, she lifted her gaze. ‘Where’s the fun in that?! They have to help you choose one.’

‘They’ll argue.’

‘Precisely.’ Lara put down her knife and fork. ‘Very healthy.’

‘You’re obviously an expert on Christmas.’

‘I love Christmas. Don’t you?’

His fingers tightened on the stem of his glass. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I don’t. Christmas is for families.’

‘You’re a family, Christian.’

His eyes met hers. ‘Rather a fractured family, don’t you think?’

‘Families aren’t all about a mother, father, two children and a dog.’ Lara said mildly.

Christian lounged back in his seat. ‘Call me old-fashioned, but I still think that’s the ideal set-up.’

‘Yes.’ She stared at him for a moment. ‘I suppose I do, too. But life doesn’t always turn out the way you plan, does it? And I suppose it’s hardly surprising. How anyone ever finds someone that they’re compatible with in our busy, hectic world, I don’t know. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.’