Scarlet Wilson - Midwives' Christmas Miracles - A Touch of Christmas Magic / Playboy Doc's Mistletoe Kiss / Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal

He paused at the landing, ignoring her puzzled expression and cutting her off before she had the chance to speak. ‘There’s three bedrooms on this floor—one of which is mine—and two bedrooms and a bathroom on the floor above. I think you and Bonnie might be better up there. More privacy for you both.’

More privacy for me too. He didn’t want to wander along the hall half dressed to find a little red-haired girl with her disapproving glare.

He started up the other flight of stairs before Bonnie really had a chance to reply. The housekeeper had definitely been in today. The doors of both rooms were open and he could smell the freshly laundered linen on the beds. He put the cases in the first room that had a double bed. ‘I’m assuming you’ll sleep in here and Freya next door. There’s a single in there. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall.’ He walked along the corridor and flicked the light switch in the white-tiled bathroom. He hadn’t really thought about it before. Just about everything in this house was white.

He watched as Freya walked suspiciously into the single room, her eyes flitting from side to side. She looked at the single bed covered in a white duvet, the chest of drawers, and then turned around and walked back to Bonnie, wrapping her arms around her waist and cuddling her tight.

Her actions gave Jacob a start. There was nothing wrong with this room. It was fine. Why didn’t she like it? He took a few seconds and looked again. Maybe the room was a little stark. Maybe it wasn’t exactly welcoming for a little girl. But how on earth would he know what a little girl would like? It wasn’t as if he’d had any practice. The kids he was generally around were only a few days or hours old.

‘Maybe you’d like to sleep in with your mum?’ He had no idea where that had come from. Chances were, he’d just committed some huge parenting faux pas. He was just struggling to understand Freya’s reaction to the perfectly acceptable room.

Bonnie looked up and shot him a grateful glance. ‘We’ll play it by ear. Thank you, Jacob.’

He gave a relieved nod. ‘Sorry, I didn’t show you the kitchen or the back sitting room. It has a more comfortable sofa—and another TV and DVD player.’ A thought darted into his brain. ‘The only place I’d prefer Freya stay out of is my office downstairs.’ The place was full of research about non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Statistics for everything, including the most successful forms of treatment. Freya wouldn’t be able to read any of that but Bonnie would if she followed Freya in.

‘Absolutely no problem.’ Bonnie had wound her hand through Freya’s hair and was stroking the back of her neck. Did she know she was doing it? Or was it just a subconscious act?

‘There’s some food in the kitchen. Help yourself to anything that’s in the fridge, freezer or cupboards.’ He glanced at Freya. ‘I’m not quite sure what Freya will like but my housekeeper picked up some groceries for me today. Or you could have some toast if you prefer?’

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. This had been his craziest idea yet. A woman who was practically a stranger and a child who was clearly uncomfortable around him—and he’d invited them to stay in his home.

For the first time in a long time, Jacob Layton felt well and truly out of his depth.

* * *

Jacob was waiting for an answer. He had that anxious look on his face again. The one that kept appearing every few minutes. It was clear he wasn’t used to having people in his house and she realised just what an inconvenience this must be to him. Her stomach flip-flopped with guilt. He must have regretted his offer as soon as the words had left his mouth.

But he seemed so anxious to please. It was almost cute. And she could bet that Jacob Layton had never been described as cute before.

She swallowed. She’d kill for a cup of tea right now. But it just didn’t seem right to walk into someone else’s kitchen and make yourself at home. ‘I didn’t mean to put you to so much trouble, Jacob. Please apologise to your housekeeper for me. I didn’t mean to give her additional work.’

He waved his hand. ‘You haven’t. She shops for me on occasion anyway. I’m just not sure how much she’ll have got as I didn’t know I’d have guests. Check the fridge. I’ll go and get your other cases.’ He disappeared down the stairs as she stared at the bulging cases in the white room. Her blue case looked ready to explode. It was so out of place in here. A huge splash of colour against the stark white room. Thank goodness for the wooden floorboards. They added a little warmth about the place.

She shuffled over to the case, Freya still attached to her waist. It was clear her little girl was feeling overwhelmed by the whole situation. And to be truthful—she was too.

He had no idea what he’d let himself in for. Once she opened those cases his beautiful, pristine house would never look the same again. It wasn’t that she was messy—she would never be messy staying as a guest in someone’s house. It was just—once she opened the cases—things would start to get everywhere, as if they had self-migrating powers. And she wasn’t quite sure how Jacob would feel about that. She let out a sigh and sat down on the bed, pulling Freya along with her. The comfortable mattress almost swallowed them up.

This place was a thousand times better than the motel. Here, she wouldn’t be worried about Freya’s asthma flaring up. The house was warm without being too hot. It was clean. It was spacious. They had their own rooms—they almost had their own floor.

Money. The thought came out of nowhere and she sat bolt upright. She hadn’t offered him any money. There was no way she could stay here rent-free. It was quite obvious that Jacob was putting himself out for them. She would have to find a way to bring it up. But she had a bad feeling about how it would go.

Jacob. It was strange being in his house. His home. But that was just it. It didn’t really feel like a home.

The white everywhere made it seem almost clinical. She would have imagined him staying in some brand-new luxury penthouse flat—not an old Victorian town house. It was beautiful. There was no doubt about that, and she hadn’t even seen the kitchen yet.

But there were no pictures. No family photos. He hadn’t even mentioned his family yet. There was no little sign of ‘him’ anywhere in the house. Who was Jacob Layton?

She ran her fingers across the bedspread. That was what was wrong. This was a beautiful house. But it didn’t feel like home. Why?

A house like this should exude warmth, character. And Jacob’s house wasn’t like that. She had the overwhelming urge to change the curtains in the lounge, to buy some different bedspreads for the white rooms and to add some accessories—some red towels in the white bathrooms, some pictures along the walls in the hall. A splash of colour was just what this place needed. She shook her head. This wasn’t her home and she should just be grateful to have somewhere to stay. It was none of her business how Jacob chose to decorate his beautiful home.

‘Come on, pumpkin. Let’s leave the cases for now and go and find some dinner.’ She took Freya’s warm hand in hers and led her downstairs, blinking as she entered the kitchen. Just as she expected. White and chrome, all gleaming and sparkling.

But there was one nice little touch. The worktop wasn’t granite like most designer kitchens. The worktop was a thick wooden polished surface that led to a deep white Belfast sink. It offset the rest of the white and chrome, giving the kitchen a little more warmth.

There was no kitchen table, just a central island with high black bar-style stools. She positioned Freya carefully on one and looked in the freezer. No—not a single thing.