Carole Mortimer - Mistletoe Magic

Gideon gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘I’ve always thought that anyone who likes Christmas can’t be all bad,’ he drawled challengingly.

Brown eyes warred with dark blue for several long seconds before Molly broke the gaze to look at the other three people in the room; Crys still smiled warmly, David and Sam were busy clearing the table of the debris from breakfast.

Was she, Molly, the only one who could hear the deliberate insult behind Gideon’s words? Probably, she acknowledged—no one else seemed aware of Gideon’s antagonism towards her.

She turned back to him, chin raised as she met that challenge. ‘What are your own feelings towards Christmas?’

They might have been the only two people in the room as they faced each other tensely.

Gideon’s mouth quirked humourlessly. ‘What do you think?’

He really didn’t want to know what she was thinking about him right now.

‘I have no idea,’ she answered honestly. Trying to fathom the workings of Gideon could take a lifetime—and she really didn’t have two minutes of her time to waste on the hateful man.

He grinned at her. ‘I’ve always loved Christmas, too,’ he told her mockingly.

It wasn’t his words that disarmed her, but that grin. It transformed his whole face until he was boyish and charming. Two things she had never before associated with the arrogantly haughty Gideon Webber.

‘Good,’ she finally managed to answer inadequately.

The grin spread to the warmth of his dark blue eyes. ‘Not what you expected to hear, was it?’ he guessed shrewdly.

If there was one thing she had learnt about this man in the last twenty-four hours, it was never to expect the expected from him; he had so many facets to his nature it was impossible to second-guess anything he might do or say.

She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘What I do or don’t expect from you isn’t really important, is it?’ she dismissed heavily.

‘Not to me, no,’ he confirmed hardly.

Well, that definitely told you, didn’t it, Molly? she acknowledged to herself ruefully. Just as well she felt the same way about him, wasn’t it?

Brown eyes sparkled with sudden humour and she easily met his gaze this time. ‘Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way, aren’t you?’ she taunted.

Was it her imagination or did she briefly see admiration flare in those dark blue eyes? Maybe, but it was so quickly masked by his usual mockery that even if she had seen it she knew Gideon wasn’t happy with the emotion.

Well, that was just too bad. She was who she was, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t the person Gideon thought she was. In fact, she was certain it wasn’t!

Gideon glared down at her wordlessly for several seconds, eyes narrowing before he slowly turned away, an enigmatic smile curving those sculptured lips.

Now what? Molly found herself wondering for the second time in almost as many minutes. Why was it, she wondered, that this man always looked as if he knew something she didn’t—like a cat that had lapped up all the cream?

And just as quickly she remonstrated with herself for such a fanciful thought; the only cat that Gideon Webber resembled was the feral kind—a hunting tiger, perhaps.

With her as his prey…

‘We can all go out this afternoon and choose a fir tree,’ Sam was saying now. ‘There’s a place not far from here where you can pick and chop down your own,’ he added with satisfaction.

‘Excellent,’ David said with obvious pleasure.

‘A real traditional Christmas,’ Gideon agreed, before once again looking at Molly, dark brows raised mockingly. ‘Aren’t you glad that Crys and Sam invited us all to stay over the holiday period?’ he added softly.

Molly could feel all the colour draining from her face as the truth finally hit her with the force of an actual blow to the body. Neither David nor Gideon was leaving today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after that. These two men, as well as herself, were invited to spend Christmas at Falcon House, with Sam, Crys and Peter.

Why hadn’t she guessed before? It had been there in front of her face all the time—the fact that David and Gideon had stayed the previous night, that neither man seemed in any hurry to leave this morning. Because they weren’t leaving any time soon. In fact, it sounded as if the six of them were going to be cosily ensconced here together for the next four days at least!

‘Still love Christmas?’ a familiarly taunting voice murmured softly in the vicinity of her ear.

Her faith in the goodwill of Christmas had definitely been sorely tested in the last few minutes, but, yes, she still loved Christmas—in spite of whom she might be forced into sharing it with.

She turned sharply to tell Gideon as much, only to find that he was much closer than she had thought he was. His head bent towards hers, their breath intermingling as Molly’s abrupt rejoinder died on her lips, and her gaze was held captive by Gideon’s as her breathing seemed to stop altogether.

He really was the most attractive-looking man, that honey-blond hair falling endearingly over his forehead, his eyes a dark, fathomless blue over high cheekbones, the patrician nose and that firmly sculptured mouth.

‘Will you be on the “naughty” or “nice” list this year, do you think?’ he taunted softly.

Attractive-looking maybe. But as soon as he opened his mocking mouth the whole image was quickly dispelled.

Perhaps just as well…considering she had actually felt herself being drawn to that attraction for a few—mad—minutes.

She drew in a sharp breath. ‘I…’

‘Come on, you two,’ David called over to them cheerily. ‘We have decorations to get down from the attic,’ he reminded them lightly.

Molly moved gratefully away from Gideon to join David as he followed Crys from the kitchen. But she was aware of Gideon’s gaze following her every step of the way…

She was still muttering to herself as she tied the belt on her dressing gown later that evening, after taking a shower before going to bed.

Not that it had been an altogether bad day; the decorations had gone up without too much trouble, their evening meal had been prepared and eaten in companionably good humour, and conversation had flowed freely. Even after dinner, when they had all played a game of Monopoly, it hadn’t been as bad as she had thought it was going to be—despite the fact that Gideon had easily been the winner.

No, on the surface it had been a successful day. Only Molly, it seemed, had been aware of the barb behind every comment Gideon had made to her…

It had started with the naughty or nice remark, and continued unabated throughout the day—to such an extent that Molly had been relieved to excuse herself with the intention of taking a shower before going to bed.

‘I’ll give him naughty or nice,’ she muttered to herself as she hurried down the hallway back to her bedroom. The last thing she wanted was to bump into Gideon when she was wearing only her dressing gown. No doubt he would find some sarcastic remark to make about that, too.

‘I’ve always been nice,’ she grumbled irritably as she opened her bedroom door.

Only to let out a loud scream as she saw someone silhouetted against the moonlight shining through her uncurtained window.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Gideon murmured dryly as he turned from gazing out of the window. ‘But did you have to scream like that?’ He gave a pained wince as he stepped forward into the glow of light given off by the bedside lamp she had left on for her return, still dressed in the casual shirt and trousers he had changed into earlier this evening.

‘Yes, I had to scream like that!’ Molly assured him furiously. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing in my bedroom?’ She glared across the room at him, her heart still beating double time, her legs feeling slightly shaky from the shock she had just received.