Nicola Marsh - Mistletoe Seductions

Then she reproved herself for being over-emotional. Roscoe was only doing what was sensible, supporting his mother and Charlie so that the family should not disintegrate. The idea that he might be saddened by being relegated to the shadows of Angela’s affection was too sentimental for words. And if there was one thing Roscoe was not, it was sentimental.

And neither was she, she reminded herself.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t help warming to him for his generosity and patience.

A little later Angela went away into the kitchen, and she seized the chance to tell Charlie about Ginevra. He was reluctant to believe the worst, but Pippa was firm, saying, ‘I don’t want you to contact her unless I say so. Give me your word.’

‘All right, maybe I was a bit mad but she made my head spin.’

‘Well, it’s time to stop spinning. Mr Havering, do you have a computer here that I could use?’

‘It’s upstairs,’ Roscoe said. ‘I’ll show you.’

‘Beware,’ Charlie warned. ‘He’s taking you up to his bedroom, a place where no sensible woman goes.’

‘Cut it out,’ Roscoe advised him wearily. ‘Miss Jenson, I hope you know you have absolutely nothing to fear from me.’

‘That’s not very flattering,’ Charlie protested illogically.

‘Unflattering but sensible and businesslike,’ Pippa said. ‘Mr Havering, let me return the compliment by declaring that I too am entirely free from temptation. Now, shall we go?’

‘I’ll come too,’ Charlie declared. ‘To protect you.’

‘I need no protection,’ she declared firmly. ‘Ask your brother how I deal with troublesome men.’

Charlie’s eyes widened. ‘Hey, he didn’t—?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Roscoe said, exasperated. ‘But I witnessed the fate of someone who did. Take it from me, you wouldn’t like it. Stay here and look after Mother.’

Roscoe’s room was much as she would have expected—full of straight lines, plain, unadorned, unrevealing. The bed was narrow and looked hard, the wallpaper was pale grey, without pattern. There was a television, modest, neat, efficient; a set where a man would watch the news. A monk could have lived in this room.

But his real home was an apartment elsewhere, she reminded herself. She wondered if that was any different, and doubted it.

But then she saw something that made her stare and gasp with delight.

‘Wow!’ she breathed. ‘How about that? Let me look at it. Can you just—? Yes, that’s right. Oh, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever—yes—yes—yes—’ Her hands were clasped in sheer ecstasy, her voice full of joy, her eyes glowing with blissful satisfaction.

Roscoe regarded her, fascinated. It wasn’t his first sight of a beautiful woman in transports—in his arms, sometimes in his bed.

But this one was looking at his computer.

A touch of the switch had caused the machine to flower into glorious life, making her watch, riveted, as one state-of-the-art accessory after another leapt into the spotlight.

‘Oh, goodness,’ she breathed. ‘Why haven’t I ever—? I’ve never even heard of some of these.’

‘One of my clients owns a firm that makes software and computer peripherals,’ Roscoe said. ‘He’s at the cutting edge and I get everything ahead of the game. I’ll tell him you’re interested and I’m sure he’ll fix you up.’

‘Oh, yes, please ! And look at the size of that screen, the biggest I’ve ever seen.’

‘You should try one,’ Roscoe said. ‘It’s useful for having multiple documents open at once.’

‘Ah, yes,’ she murmured. ‘Useful. How do I go online?’

He touched a switch and in a moment she’d connected with her work computer, entered the password and brought up a list of documents. A few more clicks brought Ginevra’s face to the screen just as Charlie entered the room.

‘Hey, that’s her! ‘ he exclaimed. Then he stared at the caption. ‘But who’s Biddy Felsom?’

‘She is,’ Pippa said. ‘Known to the police as a small-time offender and pain in the neck. She enjoys getting stupid boys to do things they shouldn’t, pulling their strings, like she pulled yours.’

‘Well, she’s history,’ Charlie said. ‘I know that you’ll save me from her.’

‘Good. Now it’s time I was going home,’ Pippa observed.

‘I’ll drive you,’ Roscoe said.

‘No you won’t, I will,’ Charlie was quick to say.

‘Neither of you will,’ Pippa said. ‘Mr Havering, will you call me a taxi?’

‘I’ll drive you,’ Charlie insisted.

‘Shut up!’ his brother said impatiently. ‘Can’t you see she’s had enough of the pair of us tonight? Miss Jenson, I suggest that the next meeting should be at my office. My secretary will call you to fix a time.’

‘Certainly,’ she said in her most efficient tone.

‘I know you can rescue me,’ Charlie said. ‘We’ll do it together because I’m going to take your advice in everything.’

He said the last word with a breathless sincerity that made her regard him wryly. His eyes twinkled back at her and they laughed together.

Angela came in and demanded to know what was happening. Charlie proclaimed his faith in Pippa, which made his mother embrace her.

Roscoe took no part in this. He was calling the taxi.

Just before it arrived, Charlie came to stand before her. ‘There’s something I’ve just got to know,’ he breathed.

‘I’ll tell you if I can,’ she promised. ‘What is it?’

‘This,’ he said, putting a hand behind her head and whipping out the clip in her hair, letting her glorious locks flow free.

‘I’ve wanted to do that ever since we met,’ he said.

‘Then you should be ashamed of yourself,’ Roscoe growled. ‘That’s no way to treat a lady.’

‘Pippa’s not offended,’ Charlie pleaded. ‘Are you? ‘

‘No, I’m not offended, but right this minute I feel like your nursemaid. I think you should call me Nanny.’

‘Not in a million years,’ he said fervently.

She gave a crow of laughter. ‘Well, my taxi seems to be here, so I’m leaving now. I’ll see you soon.’

Charlie and Angela came with her to the gate, but Roscoe stayed back, declaring curtly that he had work to do. At the last minute he pushed a scrap of paper into Pippa’s hand and turned away to climb the stairs.

As the taxi drew away she strained to read what was on the paper, mystified by Roscoe. When her hair flowed free she’d caught a glimpse of his face, full of shock as though he’d been stunned. But that made no sense. He’d seen her hair the night before. There was nothing to surprise him. Yet a man who’d been punched in the stomach might have looked like that.

Now he was giving her secret notes, and she wondered if his stern facade had melted long enough for him to send her a personal message. Could he be reacting to her as a man to a woman? She found herself hoping so. There was something about him that made her want to know more. In another moment she would find out.

Then she passed under a street lamp long enough to see what he’d written to her.

It was the address of his client’s computer firm.

NEXT morning Roscoe’s secretary called and they set up the appointment at his office for the following day. An hour later Charlie came on the line, wanting to see her that night. Since there was still much she needed to discover she reluctantly agreed to let him take her to The Diamond, although a night-club wasn’t the place she would have chosen.

She supposed she should notify Roscoe, but she stopped her hand on the way to the phone. He was just a tad too controlling for her taste, and yielding to it would only make him worse. She would make a report afterwards.