Snowbound Seduction

Impossible relationship. Whatever way you looked at it, impossible. Some things were meant to be and others weren’t…

She finished the coffee and had a shower before dressing quickly. She ought to start clearing up the mess left after the party and she would, but not right now. She needed to get out into the fresh air and walk, it didn’t matter where. Anywhere would do. She needed to be one of the anonymous masses.

She walked for two hours and when she got back to the flat Jennie and Susan were still fast asleep. By the time they roused themselves, she had cleared up after the party and put the flat to rights and was sitting reading the papers she had bought on her walk while their meal cooked in the oven. Normal Sunday. Except nothing was normal any more.

Five days before Christmas, Rachel did battle with her mother on the telephone. Her mother was determined that this year her errant daughter would come home for Christmas, and Rachel was equally determined she wouldn’t. She had nothing in common with her mother and sisters, she never had had, but most of her mother’s friends had big family gatherings and Anne Ellington was clearly feeling it looked bad that Rachel didn’t return to the nest. Reading between the lines, Rachel was sure someone had said something and her mother had taken umbrage.

‘You haven’t even seen your latest nephew.’ Her mother’s voice was icy with condemnation. ‘And sending a card and present when he was born is hardly adequate.’

‘He’s two months old, Mother. He’s hardly going to know if his Aunty Rachel is there or not.’

‘That’s not the point and you know it. I insist you come, Rachel.’ There was a pause and then in true Machiavellian style her mother continued, ‘You can bring that young man of yours if you want. There’s the spare room, as you know.’

Very clever, Mother. Don’t ask straight out if we’re still together because that would show you’re curious, and you’ve spent a lifetime of showing me you don’t care. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve made other arrangements. Jennie’s parents are expecting me.’

‘You can cancel them.’ It was scathing. ‘Ring them.’

‘I’m sorry but I can’t do that, not at this late date.’

There was a longer pause and then her mother’s voice became low and deadly. ‘You amaze me, girl. You’ve got no pride, have you? Forcing yourself on Jennie’s family or Susan’s year after year, they must wince at the sound of your name.’

The familiar curdling in the pit of her stomach that her mother’s venom always produced made itself felt. For the first time in her life, however, Rachel didn’t feel the need to defend herself or argue. Losing Zac was the worst that could have happened, her mother’s spitefulness was nothing in comparison. Calmly, she said, ‘Goodbye, Mother,’ and put down the phone.

It rang again immediately and she let it go to the answering machine. ‘How dare you hang up on me, girl? How dare you? You answer me right now or, by heaven, I tell you, Rachel, I’ve only got two daughters. I mean it, girl, do you hear me? You always were an insolent, unpleasant child and you’ve grown into a sour young woman with nothing to commend her. I order you to pick up the phone.’ The tirade lasted until the machine cut her off.

The room swelled with a heavy silence as she sat looking at the telephone, and for the life of her she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because it was the finish, she felt it in her bones. She did neither. Rising from the chair where she’d sat to answer the telephone having just come in from work, she walked through to the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of wine. Raising it in a toast, she said, ‘Happy Christmas, Mother,’ and set about preparing dinner. It wasn’t until Jennie and Susan came home that she even realised her cheeks were wet.

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Four days before Christmas she met Jennie and Susan after work and the three of them did their Christmas shopping in one huge spree. Most of the shops stayed open until after ten o’clock to catch the Christmas trade, and by the time they got home and then ordered in a couple of pizzas while they sorted out their packages, it was nearly midnight. She flopped into bed that night too tired to think, but long before it was light she was awake and thinking about Zac, wondering what he was doing, who he was with. Especially who he was with.

He hadn’t tried to contact her. The shaft of pain was so acute she flinched, even as she reminded herself he was doing exactly what she’d told him she wanted. And if nothing else, it proved she’d been absolutely right to finish it cleanly and decisively. If there had been a glimmer of something more than sexual attraction in his feelings for her, he would have made some attempt to see if she was all right, if nothing else. He could do without her very easily and it would have been emotional suicide to continue hanging on. She believed that—in her head. It was just her heart that was having trouble accepting it.

Three days until Christmas. Her heart sank. If it wasn’t for the fact she knew Jennie wouldn’t let her, she’d have stayed at the flat alone this year. She didn’t want to spoil anyone else’s Christmas and so she knew she would have to force a gaiety she didn’t feel all over the festive period. Jennie’s parents had moved to a huge, sprawling cottage in Kent a few years ago and still had an unmarried son and daughter living with them, although three older sons were married with families. Everyone descended on Jennie’s parents on Christmas Eve and stayed over until Boxing Day or longer if they could, so the old house groaned at the seams and there was no nook or cranny for any private moments. Which was fine—normally.

Today it was the firm’s Christmas drinks party in the afternoon when everyone would be very jolly and upbeat, pretending to have a good time even though myriad office politics would be simmering under the surface. Rachel shook her head at herself. She was getting grouchy, she’d have to watch that. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up a crabby old spinster whom nobody liked, living alone with just a cat for company. Except she didn’t particularly like cats.

She dressed with more care than normal that day with the Christmas party in mind, her silk-mix white top with silver edging and smart white trousers teamed with silver boots and bag, all new and bought for Christmas Day at Jennie’s parents’ house when everyone dressed up.

As the firm provided ‘nibbles’ in generous quantities, no one bothered with lunch, and Rachel and a couple of colleagues were standing with plates full of deliciously filled vol au vents and tiny cream cheese and bacon baked potatoes as they chatted with a group of clients when someone hovering on the perimeter of her vision caused her to turn her head.

Giles. For a moment she couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to come, but the next moment she thought, Why not? That was Giles all over, shameless. When Melanie had come to see her and she’d told him exactly what she thought of him there had been no remorse, only regret he’d been found out.

She turned back to the others and continued the conversation as though her heart wasn’t thudding like a sledgehammer, but once the group dispersed and she moved on to talk to other clients, as the firm expected their employees to do, Giles was at her elbow.

‘Rachel.’ His voice was as smooth and carefully seductive as she remembered. ‘I’ve been longing for this moment. I only came today to see you.’

‘Hello, Giles.’ She didn’t smile and her voice had all the warmth of an arctic winter. ‘How are you?’

‘Still bereft at losing you.’

She stared at him, amazed that even Giles would dare to take such a tack, and the pale blue eyes with their blond lashes smiled confidently back at her. For the first time she saw the emptiness in those eyes and the weakness in the mouth she’d once thought so attractive. She must have been blind before.

‘I suppose you’ve heard Melanie and I are no longer together?’ he said softly. ‘It’s been a little while now.’

Rachel shook her head, assailed with so many feelings she couldn’t name them except one—self-disgust that she’d ever got involved with this man. He was as different from Zac as chalk to cheese—how could she have imagined for one moment that she cared for him? Actually contemplated marrying him?

‘She met someone.’ He couldn’t quite hide the amazement that his wife could prefer another man to him.