The Christmas Marriage Mission

‘I told you before, I haven’t got the time or the desire for romance,’ she said, much too quickly.

‘But the odd evening with a girlfriend at the cinema or the theatre isn’t romance and you don’t even do that,’ he pointed out gently. ‘All work and no play…’

Kay glared at him. How dared he lecture her on what she should do and what she shouldn’t! What business was it of his anyway? ‘Being a mother as well as the sole breadwinner does carry certain responsibilities,’ she said starchily. ‘Not that you’d know anything about that, of course. We can’t all please ourselves and burn the candles at both ends.’

‘You don’t even get a light near the wick,’ he said relentlessly, ‘and it’s really very bad for you, Kay. You owe it to the twins to be a well-balanced and rounded person.’

She couldn’t believe her ears. ‘You…you hypocrite!’ To use little children in emotional blackmail.

‘That’s a harsh word,’ he said sorrowfully, rising to his feet and placing his empty glass on the mantelpiece before walking over to her. ‘Come here,’ he said very softly, stopping just in front of her chair and holding out his hand to pull her up.

Her panicky heartbeat caused her breathing to become quick and shallow but she managed to sound reasonably firm when she said, ‘No.’

He bent down, taking her half-full glass from her nerveless fingers and placing it on a small table at the side of the chair. She stared up at him, her eyes deep brown pools. He was going to kiss her again and it was only in this very instant that she admitted to herself how much she wanted him to. Nevertheless she made no movement when he held out his hand again.

‘Kay,’ he said, his tone steady but carrying the thread of warm amusement that made his voice sexier than ever, ‘I’m only going to take you in to dinner.’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘HOW did it go?’

Kay had hoped her mother would be asleep, considering it was one in the morning, but the moment she had gingerly opened the bedroom door Leonora’s bedside lamp had been switched on. She glanced at the older woman as she walked across to her own bed, half amused and half exasperated by the bright anticipation in her mother’s eyes.

‘Okay.’ She had undressed and washed in the bathroom where she’d had the foresight to leave her nightie before she went out, so now she slid under the covers, deliberately turning her face to the wall as she said, ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight?’ It was a low whisper in view of the twins asleep in the bedroom next door, but none the less intense because of it. ‘Is that all you’re going to say?’

‘Mum, I’ve got to be up at six in the morning and my work schedule is manic. I’ve had a nice evening and now I’m home. All right?’ Kay waited but the bedside lamp remained on. She pulled her pillow over her head with a low groan.

‘Just one thing.’ Her mother’s voice was a subtle mixture of bribery and entreaty.

‘What?’ Kay didn’t take the pillow away, her voice muffled.

‘Are you seeing him again?’

The sixty-four dollar question. She wrinkled her face against it under the soft down, taking a deep breath before she said, ‘No.’

‘Why?’ It was anguished.

‘Because he didn’t ask me, and that’s two things,’ Kay pointed out. ‘Goodnight, Mum.’

She knew the effort it must have taken for her mother to say nothing more than a subdued, ‘Goodnight, dear’ as she switched off the lamp, but for the life of her Kay couldn’t hold a post-mortem about the evening out loud. However, as she lay there in the darkness her mind was dissecting every moment from the second he had arrived to pick her up.

It had been a wonderful dinner. As she progressed to the meal her eyes opened in the blackness. And Mitchell had been an amusing and fascinating companion—as she was sure he had set out to be. She forced herself to lie still, aware her mother was still awake, but every nerve in her body was jangling as she recalled how he’d looked, what he’d said, the way he’d made her laugh in spite of her determination not to be charmed.

Each of the five courses—served by a smiling and courteous Henry—had been more delicious than the one before it, and the pièce de résistance in the form of a torrone mousse with oranges and strawberries had been the most spectacular dessert she had ever seen and tasted. She could see it now, decorated with a curl of chocolate, slices of strawberry and oranges, torrone and crystallised orange rind, and hear Mitchell’s deep voice saying, ‘Your eyes are as round as a child’s in a candy store,’ his tone soft and almost—her mind hesitated on the word—tender.

Oh… She turned over cautiously, colour flooding into her cheeks much the same as it had earlier.

They had lingered over coffee and brandy, talking about all sorts of things, and she’d had to keep reminding herself that this was Mitchell Grey, enemy, because it had been…what? She stared into the darkness. Great. Wonderful. Magical.

When he had called the taxi she’d known it was because he had been drinking, but at the back of her mind she’d thought he would make the most of the opportunity too. Right up until the minute she’d climbed into the back seat with him she’d told herself she wasn’t going to let him kiss her again, but the second he’d reached for her she had melted against him like…like the flipping torrone mousse! Her hands clenched as she willed herself not to toss and turn.

She was an idiot, an absolute idiot, she belaboured herself miserably, her frustration at her own weakness compounded tenfold by the fact he hadn’t asked to see her again.

The trouble was he was so good at the seduction game. The warm, masculine scent of him as he’d held her, his clean, warm skin and firm lips… She let herself drift into the recollection, her pulse quickening. He had kissed her as though he were delicately sampling something very sweet and costly at first, their lips touching and drawing apart, touching and drawing apart as he’d tentatively tasted and stroked her mouth into eager submission. When his kiss had gathered force she had been there with him every inch of the way, enchanted by the desire he’d been calling forth with consummate ease.

The caress of his mouth had become sensual, his lips and tongue invoking ripples of sensation into every nerve and sinew in her body, d