Carole Mortimer - Mistletoe Magic

No matter how it might have felt to her at the time, Gideon had kissed her initially because of the accusations she had made concerning his own feelings towards Crys. And she mustn’t forget that fact.

‘Not a thing,’ she assured Sam lightly, moving forward to link her arm with his. ‘Let’s go and say good night to Diana.’

‘Fine with me.’ Her stepbrother nodded. ‘But don’t think you can avoid answering me forever,’ he warned teasingly. ‘Something is definitely going on between you and Gideon,’ he stated with certainty.

‘Something’ definitely was—she just had no idea what.

Neither did she have any clearer an idea once she was alone in the house with only Peter a couple of hours later, having insisted on being the one who stayed behind with the baby while the others all went to the late church service.

‘You’re my idea of the ideal male companion,’ she told the baby ruefully as he slept in the cot in his nursery. ‘Totally uncomplicated.’ She smiled. ‘You cry when you’re hungry, and sleep when you aren’t.’

Peter gave a brief smile in his sleep, as if in sympathy with her, although Crys had assured Molly that those smiles were of the windy type.

‘What am I going to do, hmm?’ she mused as she stood up and moved to the window, staring out at the starlit sky much as Gideon had done earlier this evening in the kitchen.

Gideon.

Every thought, everything she said, all seemed to come back to Gideon just recently. Which wasn’t surprising, considering the circumstances, but she could do with a little respite now and again. Like ten years or so.

‘He kisses me, Peter,’ she continued slowly, ‘and yet I’m not even sure that he likes me. If you had asked me yesterday I would have been absolutely sure that he didn’t!’ She grimaced.

Earlier today she had been sure of the same thing. And yet this evening…

There had been none of his earlier contempt in the way he had kissed her this evening, none of the anger, either. Just… Just what?

She really didn’t know.

She did know that she was becoming far too attracted to him. Possibly more than attracted.

What did that mean?

She couldn’t be falling in love with Gideon! Could she…?

Molly gave a pained groan as she realised that she already had, that every word Gideon said, every gesture he made, affected her more deeply than any other man she had known.

Great!

Another Molly blunder. She had fallen in love with the one man guaranteed to hate her.

She—

She frowned slightly as she saw car headlights at the top of the driveway, and glanced down at her watch. The others couldn’t be coming back from church yet; it was only just after midnight, and the service hadn’t started until eleven-thirty.

But there were no other houses down this stretch of road, so the car had to be coming here. Unless it was some late-night revellers who had lost their way?

Even as she thought this she saw the car turn in the driveway and disappear back down the road.

‘Too much Christmas spirit,’ she told Peter, though the baby was sleeping on unconcernedly, she discovered as she glanced back into his cot. Great; she was talking to herself now.

She had never realised how creepy it was being alone here late at night. She had always had Sam here in the past, and latterly Crys and Sam. But it definitely wasn’t a place she would want to spend too much time in alone. She wondered how Sam had stood it all those years before he and Crys were married.

‘I know he had you.’ She grimaced apologetically at Merlin as he lifted his huge head to look at her, almost as if he had guessed her thoughts. ‘But it’s still a little creepy. Come on,’ she prompted the dog, deciding it was probably best if she kept herself busy. ‘Let’s go down and prepare mulled wine and mince pies for the returning carollers.’

Nevertheless, she pulled down all the blinds at the kitchen windows before preparing the wine and putting the mince pies in the warming oven. ‘Just in case,’ she told Merlin ruefully.

To say she was more than a little relieved when she heard the crunch of gravel outside to announce the return of Gideon’s Jaguar—the car the others had elected to go to church in—would be putting it mildly. Every creak of a tree branch outside, the rustle of fallen leaves on the driveway, even the whoosh of the central heating as it went into action, had seemed intensified in the stillness of the house, making her slightly jumpy.

‘Oh, wonderful!’ Crys enthused as she came in the kitchen door first and smelt the wine and mince pies, her cheeks rosy from the chill night air, her eyes bright with happiness. ‘Has Peter been okay?’ she added anxiously.

‘Of course,’ Molly reassured her, smiling at Sam and David as they came into the kitchen, but quickly averting her gaze before Gideon entered, obviously having lingered to lock up the car. ‘Go up and check on him if you want to,’ she told Crys affectionately, turning to pour mulled wine for them all as her friend hurried off up the stairs to check on the baby.

But all the time Molly was aware of Gideon’s brooding presence where he stood next to the Aga, warming his hands. Even more so now that she had realised she had stupidly fallen in love with the man. It made her other ill-fated love of over three years ago seem quite sane in comparison.

She took the plate from the warming oven. ‘Mince pie, anyone?’ she offered stiltedly, her gaze still lowered so that she didn’t actually have to look at Gideon.

‘Thanks.’ David put down his mulled wine and helped himself to one. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I intend going up to bed as soon as I’ve had these; I’m absolutely bushed.’

‘So am I,’ Molly agreed quickly, having no intention of lingering down here and possibly being drawn into a late-night conversation that would include Gideon.

‘I’m just going to take Merlin out for a last stroll,’ Sam told them. ‘Crys spent hours making those mince pies, so you had better keep me one, Molly.’ He grinned.

‘Will do,’ she assured him lightly. ‘Mince pie, Gideon?’ she offered abruptly, still not quite looking at him.

‘Thanks,’ he murmured huskily, his hand briefly coming into Molly’s lowered line of vision.

It was a strong-looking hand, the fingers long and artistic, the nails kept short, his wrists wide, covered in soft blond hair, making Molly wonder if he had that same downy hair on the rest of his body. It was a thought guaranteed to make her completely lose her appetite—for mince pies, anyway.

‘Aren’t you having one?’ Gideon prompted softly.

‘Er—no.’ Her mouth had gone so dry she would probably choke on what she knew was mouthwatering pastry. ‘I had one earlier, while you were out,’ she dismissed, turning away.

Her hand shook slightly as she took a much-needed sip of her mulled wine. She recognized that the situation between Gideon and herself was becoming intolerable if she could no longer even look at him.

‘As it’s after midnight—Happy Christmas, Molly.’ David moved to kiss her on both cheeks. ‘And many of them,’ he told her warmly as he stepped back.

‘You, too.’ She smiled, her heart suddenly fluttering as she wondered if Gideon might decide to do the same; she wasn’t sure how she would respond if he did.

But she was saved from answering that question by the kitchen door opening. Sam stood in the doorway, his expression one of impatient exasperation.

‘Merlin has run off and isn’t responding when I call him,’ he bit out irritably. ‘Would the two of you mind coming out and helping me look for him?’ He looked at Gideon and David.

‘I’ll come,’ Molly offered, having taken one look at David’s face and realised he still wasn’t too sure of the Irish Wolfhound’s temperament. ‘David is exhausted, and I could do with a walk in the fresh air anyway,’ she added as she put down her glass and collected her coat and scarf from the back of the door.