‘I get one each year for Isabella,’ Alex said quietly as his eyes stroked her glowing face, a warmth in their gold depths that caused her breath to shudder in her throat. ‘In Italy, when she was a child, each house couldn’t afford a tree with decorations and presents so all the villagers would get together and bring a tree down from the mountainside for the village square. I know the story by heart and you’ll be hearing it soon, no doubt.’ He smiled slowly. ‘Each family would give what trimming they could, a ribbon there, an ornament here; she pines for those times now she’s alone.’
‘She has you,’ she said softly, meeting his gaze, before her eyes were drawn to the mass of gaily wrapped parcels piled around the huge terracotta pot filled with earth in which the tree’s roots were embedded.
‘Isabella assures me the adults made sure even the poorest child had a gift on the Saviour’s birthday. There aren’t too many barefoot little ragamuffins round here but we donate the presents to the children’s ward at the hospital on Christmas Eve.’ He shrugged lightly. ‘It’s become something of a tradition.’
‘I think that’s lovely.’ She smiled up into his watching eyes and for a moment he looked as though he was going to say more, but then he turned away dismissively.
‘I have my moments of weakness,’ he drawled with mocking sarcasm, and she flushed at the taunting note in his voice. She had woken that morning deep in the luxurious warmth of the big bed and decided that the only way she was going to get through the next week was to take each day as it came. No more heart-searching, no more dissecting things that were better left alone. She was nothing to Alex, she had to remember that; he could have as many girlfriends as he liked, it was absolutely nothing to do with her. He was used to sophisticated worldly women to whom love affairs were merely pleasant diversions for a limited time. She knew that...so why did the picture of a tall dark-haired woman with pouting red lips keep flashing into her mind in taunting ridicule?
They ate alone in the large breakfast room—Isabella never rose before lunchtime—and just as they finished the doorbell rang. The morning was filled with visits from friends and relations and several of the women, Fabia noticed wryly, put great enthusiasm into greeting Alex. He remained his normal charming self, acting his part magnificently as he drew Fabia to his side time and time again, dropping a kiss on her fair head or hugging her close in a swift embrace. ‘You don’t need to keep doing that,’ she whispered angrily after one long unexpected kiss on the lips, emerging flushed and breathless with a strange little tremor in her stomach.
‘I like it,’ he murmured unrepentantly in her ear, his warm breath causing her to shudder helplessly. ‘Don’t you?’
‘No, I do not,’ she snapped back quickly, all the finer feelings of the morning melting into hot rage. ‘I’m here acting as your girlfriend, not your...your—’
‘But I kiss my girlfriends, angel-face; I kiss them a lot,’ Alex said softly with his eyes tight on her pink face. She could hear a thread of amusement in the deep voice and longed to slap the cool, handsome face, hard! ‘Don’t the men in your life like to express their appreciation of your finer qualities?’
She glared at him ferociously and spoke without thinking, provoked by his cynical mockery. ‘I don’t have any—’ She stopped abruptly as his eyes narrowed into gold slits. ‘I mean...’ She paused again, searching for the right words that wouldn’t betray her.
‘What do you mean, Fabia?’ There was no trace of amusement or mockery in the hard face now, more a slightly incredulous intentness that totally unnerved her. ‘Are you seriously telling me—?’
‘I’m not telling you anything,’ she said bitterly as she jerked away from his side, walking over to the other side of the crowded room without turning round. How could she have been so stupid as to let that little snippet of news slip? Maybe he would assume she had meant there was no one special at the moment? The hope died as it was born. No, he was too astute by half. She had unwittingly divulged her chaste state and to a man like him it would be like the ultimate challenge. Damn, damn, damn! She was making a real mess of all this.
It was as they all walked through to the dining-room for a buffet-style lunch and Fabia caught a glimpse of yet more presents piled high on one of the occasional tables in the hall that the dreadful realisation dawned on her. She hadn’t brought any presents! She stopped so that Alex, a step behind her, cannoned into her back, his arms going out to hold her as she stumbled forwards. ‘Very nice, but what’s the matter?’ he said softly as he caught sight of her stricken face.
‘I didn’t bring any presents, Alex.’ She stared up at him in horror. ‘How could I have forgotten? I should have got your grandmother something, I just wasn’t thinking straight. What shall I do?’ She glanced round helplessly.
‘Don’t look so tragic.’ He smiled at her consternation, his voice wry. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, remember? The shops will stay open until they’ve extracted the last penny from the happy public who wander around in a daze of goodwill and whisky.’ She didn’t like the cynicism and turned away sharply, her face expressing her feelings more adequately than words.
‘Sorry.’ He turned her to him again and this time his face was clear of all sarcasm. ‘I’ll take you into town when we’ve had lunch,’ he said quietly. ‘You can do your shopping there.’
‘No, I don’t want to take you away from all your guests,’ she said quickly with a little gesture of repudiation. ‘You stay here—I’ll call a taxi.’
‘No need.’ His voice was tight. ‘It’s open house here on Christmas Eve, everyone knows that. People just come and go as they please. I’ll take you.’
‘No, really.’ She suddenly couldn’t face the thought of being close to him again in the car, those long muscled legs stretched out so close to hers and the subtle, distinctly male smell of him filling the air round her with sensual promise. ‘You stay here—your grandmother—’
‘For crying out loud, woman!’ He swung her round so quickly as she made to turn away that her head snapped on her shoulders, her hair flying over her face in silken disarray. ‘Can’t you bear my company for as short a time as that? Am I really so obnoxious to you?’ She stared at him as he glared down at her, his face as black as thunder. ‘I’m trying, I’m really trying to keep my temper with you, Fabia, but you know how to push a man to the limit, don’t you? Now whether you like it or not I’m going to take you into the damn town. Another word and so help me I won’t be responsible for my reactions.’ After one more furious scowl he walked past her into
the gaiety beyond, leaving her standing shaking and silent in the deserted hall.
This was ridiculous; he had no right to talk to her like that, she thought angrily as she smoothed the soft woollen dress she was wearing over her hips with shaking hands and flung back the thick gold hair from her face. She wasn’t going to fall at his feet in gratitude for his company whatever the other women did. A vision of clinging arms round his neck and a bright red mouth close to his made her wince with sudden pain. He was arrogant and overbearing and everything she disliked in a man, and if he couldn’t take the way she felt about him he should let her go home, where she belonged.
The air was bitingly cold and crystal-clear as they left the warm brightness of the house some time later. A weak yellow sun lit the white snow into blinding silver, the stark black branches of the bare trees standing out against the pale hoary sky in vivid contrast. She stood for a moment at the top of the steps as Alex walked past her to the car parked below and drew deeply on the fragrant icy air, shutting her eyes as she let its cold clear breath stir her lungs. After the close warmth of the house it felt wonderfully good.
It was a beautiful winter’s day and it was Christmas Eve, she thought suddenly, and life was good. Whatever, life was good.
‘You look like the spirit of winter with your head back like that and the sun on your hair,’ Alex said gruffly, and as she opened her eyes and caught the full force of his golden gaze she stood transfixed for a long moment, caught by the magic of the moment. ‘Come on, you’ll get cold.’ He broke the spell abruptly, turning away with a brusque nod of his head, his voice terse and his body stiff as though he was holding himself in control.
‘This is a beautiful car.’ She ran her hand down the smooth red paint of the Ferrari as she sank down into the soft leather seat. ‘It isn’t the one we came in, is it?’
‘No, I have several cars,’ he said shortly, his face cold as though she had said the words in criticism. She glanced at him as he shut her door and strode round the car to the driving side. He looked bad-tempered and angry, and undeniably gorgeous. She caught herself quickly. None of that, Fabia, she said silently to that other self she seemed to be talking to a lot recently. He’s your employer and this is a temporary job, nothing else. Concentrate on that and that only.
It would have been a short journey into the town in normal conditions but due to the thick snow blanketing the countryside the powerful car was forced to crawl along, nosing its way through the space cleared in the middle of the main roads, which were narrow enough at the best of times. The wooded hills rolling southwards were frozen in pale silent beauty, sheltered farms and hamlets motionless except for thin spirals of smoke rising from weathered chimneys.
They made the journey in almost total silence and, although she tried to concentrate on the beauty of the countryside in its mantle of bridal white, her thoughts were drawn back time and time again to the dark-haired woman who had flung her arms round his neck with such familiarity. How many women had he known? How many did he still know? She bit her lip silently. He wasn’t the sort of man to be without female companionship too long. No doubt he was in the middle of some sort of liaison right now. He had said that there were several women he could have asked to spend Christmas with him except that all of them would prove difficult to unload once the holiday was over. She glanced at him under her lashes, the strong firm hands that she knew by experience could be devastatingly gentle, the hard powerful body so vitally male—
‘Would you like me to come in with you?’