Carole Mortimer - Mistletoe Magic

‘I mean it, Molly.’ David gave her a warm glance. ‘Try thinking about it from Gideon’s point of view—’

‘Do I have to?’ She grimaced.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in gentle reproof. ‘From what I can gather, Crys is the only family Gideon has left. She is family, Molly,’ he insisted softly as she looked sceptical. ‘His parents both died years ago, and Crys was married to Gideon’s younger brother. That brother is now dead, too. All Gideon has left of that relationship is Crys.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s how I see it, anyway. I’m still extremely close to Cathy’s parents,’ he added huskily.

It was one way of looking at things, granted. But Molly wasn’t convinced it was the right way as far as Gideon’s feelings towards Crys were concerned…

Although it was definitely preferable to believing the man she was so attracted to was in love with another woman. Been there, done that.

‘Before you start again, I did not tell any member of the press about the christening on Sunday,’ Molly told Gideon defensively when she turned to find him standing grim-faced behind her as she set about preparing their evening meal. Crys was still totally occupied upstairs with the less-than-happy Peter.

His gaze narrowed. ‘I—’ He broke off as the telephone on the kitchen wall began to ring. ‘Would you mind answering that?’ he said slowly.

Molly looked from him down to her wet hands, where she was peeling potatoes, and then back at Gideon. ‘It may have escaped your notice, but I’m a little busy at the moment!’ she snapped irritably; in fact up to her arms in it was the description that readily came to mind.

Not that she at all minded preparing an evening meal in Crys’s absence. In fact, she was more than pleased to have something to do. But at the same time she did not intend being harassed by Gideon. And the still-ringing telephone, like Gideon himself, was starting to grate on her nerves.

Gideon drew in a sharp breath. ‘If I say please…?’ he suggested tightly.

Molly blinked; that would certainly be a novelty. ‘Well?’ she pushed dryly when he made no effort to do so.

His eyes flared deeply blue. ‘Please,’ he finally bit out, through gritted teeth.

‘Testy, testy,’ Molly taunted as she moved to dry her hands before snatching up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ she prompted lightly.

Her query was met by silence. Not the silence of a call ended, but that slightly static silence that said the line was still open.

‘Hello?’ she said more strongly. ‘Is there anyone there?’ Her voice was sharp now. She was more and more convinced that there was someone on the end of the line. She could almost hear their breathing…

In answer to her last query there was a faint click on the line, the dialling tone immediately following.

Molly slowly put down the receiver before turning sharply to look at Gideon. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded to know.

‘I have no idea.’ He shrugged abruptly. ‘But that’s the third call like that since you left with David this afternoon. I wanted you to answer it this time to see if you got the same response I did when I answered the last two.’

‘Hanging up?’ Molly said slowly.

‘Exactly,’ Gideon confirmed grimly, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Obviously the call wasn’t meant for you, either,’ he added frowningly.

Molly shook her head. ‘Maybe it was just a wrong number?’

‘Three times in as many hours?’ Gideon said sceptically.

‘It could be.’ She shrugged dismissively, more interested in cooking dinner for them all than worrying about hang-up calls.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Molly,’ he snapped.

Her eyes widened indignantly. ‘I’m being ridiculous?’ she repeated incredulously. ‘Every time something bad happens around here you automatically assume I have to somehow be involved. No doubt you think I’m somehow responsible for these calls, too?’ she challenged scathingly.

‘Hardly, when you’re standing right here beside me,’ he returned harshly.

She shook her head disgustedly. ‘I suppose that’s one thing in my favour.’

Gideon drew in a harsh breath, obviously controlling his temper with effort. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I was wrong earlier, concerning that article in the newspaper…’

‘Are you?’ Molly’s eyes flashed disbelievingly. ‘Are you really?’ she repeated.

‘Yes,’ he hissed, his jaw tightly clenched, eyes darkly blue in his pale, strained face.

Molly frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘Do you think those calls could be from another reporter after a story? Or possibly even the same one?’ she added hardly.

‘They could be, I suppose,’ Gideon said slowly. ‘Although why would they keep hanging up in that way?’

Molly shrugged. ‘Because it isn’t Crys or Sam answering the calls?’

‘But how would they know that?’ Gideon didn’t look convinced by this theory.

Neither was Molly, if the truth were known, but she couldn’t think of any other explanation for them. Unless they really were just wrong numbers…

‘I’ve disposed of the newspaper, by the way,’ he added harshly.

‘I never had any doubts that you would,’ Molly returned with obvious sarcasm.

‘Molly—’

‘Gideon,’ she interrupted firmly. ‘It may have escaped your notice, but I’m trying to cook dinner for all of us.’ She indicated the potatoes she had been peeling, and the duck sitting in the baking tray waiting to go in the Aga.

He frowned for several seconds, and then his attention shifted to the partly prepared food. Amusement glittered in those dark blue eyes when his gaze finally returned to hers. ‘Do you actually know how to cook?’ That amusement was reflected in his mocking tone.

Christmas is a time of ‘peace and goodwill to all men’, Molly, she reminded herself firmly. And one thing she had learnt about Gideon Webber these last few days—he was definitely a man.

She drew in a controlling breath. ‘More than you do, I’m sure,’ she told him with determined control; the duck would be much better cooked and then enjoyed by them all than aimed at this man’s arrogant head.

‘I’m sure, too,’ he conceded with an acknowledging tilt of his head. ‘The only thing I know about cooking is that one should keep the chef readily supplied with wine. Red or white?’ he offered lightly.

Molly stared at him incredulously. Just when she thought she really detested this man, he did something nice. Throwing her into complete confusion.

As if she wasn’t confused enough already. She had every reason to loathe and detest this man, and yet every time he walked into a room she was physically totally aware of him.

Like now!

‘Red, thanks,’ she accepted stiltedly, before turning sharply away to bend down and put the duck in the oven. ‘And, just to put your mind at rest about the cooking,’ she told him, ‘when I was “resting” about five years ago…’ her tone was dry, as she knew that Gideon would be as aware as anyone else that the term ‘resting’, when applied to an actor, actually meant ‘out of work’ ‘…I helped Crys out in the kitchen of her restaurant. I’m sure it won’t be up to her standard, but—Oh!’ She had turned to find Gideon standing only inches away from her, and was suddenly breathless as she stared up into eyes the colour of a clear midnight sky.

‘Oh, indeed,’ Gideon murmured huskily, making no effort to give her the glass of wine he held in his hand.

Time seemed to stand still. The house was unusually quiet, with only the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall beside them to tell them of the passing of time. Even Merlin was quiet as he dozed in front of the Aga.