Janice Maynard - Millionaire Under The Mistletoe

‘Since I looked into your room after I took the dogs for a walk around seven and found you weren’t there.’

All the colour bar a small pink circle over either cheek fled Darcy’s guilty face. ‘What were you doing in my room?’

‘Fetching you a cup of tea.’

It was typical of Nick to discover his considerate side at the worst possible moment. ‘Oh…’ What else could she say? She certainly wasn’t going to volunteer any more information if she could help it!

‘What is a guy like him with that sort of serious money doing hanging around someone like you?’ Nick wondered suspiciously. ‘No offence intended, Darce…’ he added casually.

Darcy wondered what he’d say if she told him she took offence—serious offence. She was about to quiz her tactless sibling on the ‘serious money’ statement when his next comment distracted her.

‘Has he followed you here, Darcy, is that it? I’m assuming you’d already met before yesterday.’

‘Why on earth would you think that?’ There was no way he could have picked anything up from her attitude when she’d brought Reece back earlier. She’d been very careful about that—so careful, in fact, that her behaviour had bordered on the catatonic, before she’d swiftly excused herself and nipped off to the church to do the flowers—it was Mum’s turn on the rota; Adam would probably have a fit when he saw her efforts.

‘I think that because I didn’t think you were the sort of girl who would spend the night with a complete stranger.’ If what he had said wasn’t bad enough, Nick had to go and make it even worse by adding, ‘Even if he is rich and powerful.’

For several moments Darcy didn’t do anything, but when she finally lifted her eyes from the rim of her coffee-cup they were sparkling with anger.

‘How dare you?’

Nick looked taken aback by the rancour in his sister’s shaking voice. ‘Come on, Darce, you must admit it was pretty sus…’

‘I don’t have to admit anything!’ she said in a low, intense voice that throbbed with emotion. Carefully pushing her seat back, she rose to her feet. ‘Not to you at least.’ She ran her tongue over the bloodless outline of her pale lips. ‘Just for the record, Nick, you’re the biggest hypocrite I know.’

His eyes filled with concern, Nick rose to his feet. ‘Darce, I didn’t mean—’

Darcy cut him off with a flash of her narrowed eyes. ‘Incidentally, I’ll sleep with who the hell I like!’ she yelled, sweeping from the room.

Her dramatic exit was ruined by the fact she narrowly avoided colliding with the solid bulk of Reece Erskine on her way out.

‘Whoa there.’ She’d have fallen rather than accept the arm he tried to offer her; it wasn’t easy, as he was carrying a large wicker hamper balanced on the crook of his functioning elbow, and his solicitous action almost sent it to the floor.

‘What are you doing here?’ The tense, scratchy thing didn’t sound like her voice at all. Making a superhuman effort, she pulled herself together and stepped back away from his chest—and the temptation to lay her head on it. Even holding her breath, she could still smell the fresh male fragrance that emanated from his warm skin, so she gave up on what was not really a practical long-term solution to her problem to begin with.

‘That’s no way to greet a guy carrying gifts, Darce.’

Darcy hadn’t even noticed the twins and Jack, who had entered the kitchen behind Reece—when he was around she didn’t tend to notice much else.

‘Cool!’ Harry cried, holding up a large box of Belgian chocolates and adding them to the pile of luxury items he and his twin were extracting from the hamper they’d set down on the table.

Darcy glanced at the growing pile—there was no way he’d got that little lot from the village shop.

‘This is mine,’ Charlie crowed, discovering a bottle of champagne.

Clicking his tongue tolerantly, his father removed the bottle from his crestfallen son’s hand. ‘This is really very generous of you, Reece…’

‘A small thank-you for everything you’ve done for me.’

‘It really wasn’t necessary,’ Jack insisted.

‘Dad, you’re not going to give it back, are you?’ Charlie asked in alarm.

‘How did we raise two such avaricious little monsters…?’ The twins exchanged rueful grins. ‘What the boys are trying to say, Reece, is the gift is much appreciated. Can we offer you a drink—it looks like there’s one on the go… Darcy…?’

‘In case nobody noticed, I’m busy,’ she responded shortly.

If her stepfather had looked annoyed by her unneighbourly response she could have coped, but no, he had to go and look hurt and guilty.

‘I suppose,’ he responded worriedly, ‘we have let a lot of things fall on your shoulders.’ He turned to Reece. ‘It’s just my wife usually…’

‘I enjoy it, Dad,’ Darcy interrupted hurriedly, hating the forlorn expression on her stepfather’s face and despising herself for putting it there. ‘Actually, I was just off to pick up the tree. Anyone like to come?’ she enquired. She was predictably underwhelmed by the response. ‘Right, I’ll be off, then.’

‘If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind coming along for the ride.’

Darcy spun around, horror etched on her pale features. ‘You!’

‘I’m getting a bit stir-crazy, unable to drive,’ Reece explained glibly to the room in general.

‘You’d be bored,’ she said several shades too emphatically.

‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ Jack responded firmly, reproach in his eyes.

Nick spoke for the first time. ‘I’m sure Darcy will enjoy having company.’

Darcy shot her treacherous narrow-minded brother a seething look from under the sweep of her lashes. ‘There will be lashings of mud.’ Nobody paid her any heed.

‘Borrow some Wellingtons—the twins look about the same size as you.’

With a sigh Darcy subsided into a resentful silence whilst her eager family—with the notable exception of Nick—equipped their neighbour.

‘You look awfully pale, Darcy.’

Thanks, bro, she thought as Nick’s contribution to the conversation brought her a lot of highly undesirable attention.

‘Yes, she does, doesn’t she?’ her stepfather agreed. ‘Are you feeling all right?’

‘Absolutely fine.’

‘It’s probably sleep deprivation,’ Nick continued smoothly. ‘She’s not been sleeping too well.’ He wasn’t looking at his sister as he spoke but at the tall figure who stood beside her. The two men exchanged a long look.

‘Is that right? You didn’t say so, Darcy.’

‘Lot on my mind, Dad…’ she muttered. ‘Holidays are always the same—it takes me the first week to wind down.’

‘Darcy is a computer analyst,’ her proud stepfather explained to Reece. ‘She has a very responsible job.’

Darcy cringed. ‘Give the man a break, Dad,’ she laughed uncomfortably. ‘I’m sure Mr Erskine doesn’t want to know about my work.’

Nick, of course, couldn’t resist stirring the pot. ‘You mean, he doesn’t already?’

‘If you’ve got nothing better to do, Nick, you could take a look at the Christmas lights for me.’ She felt a surge of satisfaction as her brother looked suitably horrified at the prospect. ‘They don’t seem to be working.’

‘I think,’ Nick announced hopefully, ‘that it’s time we bought some new ones.’

‘You can’t do that, Nick!’ Charlie protested. ‘We’ve had them for ever…’

‘My point exactly,’ Nick muttered. ‘It’s the same every year—they never work.’

‘I remember the time the cat—that one that had no tail—’ Harry began.

‘Oscar,’ his twin supplied.

Nick decided to inject a little reality into this trip down memory lane. ‘I remember the time they fused the electrics while Mum was cooking Christmas dinner…’