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Christmas Ever After Page 6
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He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
They stared at each other for a moment and then he heard a tap on the door and stepped away from her, relieved to have an excuse to walk away.
“That will be Michael.” He grabbed a robe from the back of the door, thrust it toward her and escaped from the steamy bathroom.
The sleeves of his shirt were wet from the shower and he rolled them up on his way to the door. At least with someone else in the room he was less likely to commit an act of gross indecency.
Despite the circumstances, he was genuinely pleased to see his friend and they chatted for a few moments, catching up on the main events of their lives, before Michael walked over to the bed to take a look at Skylar.
Alec wished he were somewhere else. This whole situation was wrong on every level.
It was too intimate, too personal.
He and Skylar barely knew each other.
What if Michael asked her a question Alec didn’t want to hear?
As far as he was concerned the bar for “too much information” was set low.
He prowled to the window and stood with his back to the room while his friend examined her. He could see the reflection of her body in the glass, so he pressed his forehead against the window and focused on the street below.
Snow was still falling and far beneath him people and cars moved slowly.
He heard Michael ask Skylar what had happened and heard her dismiss it as a silly accident.
Was that true? Maybe, but something told him that Richard Everson had played a part in that “accident.”
And even if he hadn’t, the one undisputable fact that stood out above all others was that the guy hadn’t stayed to help her.
“Just sick the once?” Michael stood up and pulled a sheet of paper out of his bag. “Alec?”
Bracing himself, Alec turned. “Yes?”
Michael handed over the paper. “Instructions for head-injured patients. You probably know it all, but read it anyway. If you’re worried, the next step is to bring her into the department for a scan. I’m in tomorrow, so call my mobile and I’ll arrange it.”
“Thanks.” Alec stared down at the paper in his hand.
Tomorrow he was supposed to be traveling deep into the English countryside to celebrate Christmas early with his family. It had made sense to combine a trip with his other commitments because he needed to be back in Maine in order to meet his deadline.
His friend snapped his bag closed. “She can’t be left on her own, of course, but given that she has you, that’s not a problem.”
Alec realized that Michael had misunderstood their relationship. He opened his mouth to put him right, but his friend was already walking to the door.
“I have to dash. I’m supposed to be having a late dinner with the in-laws. May will kill me if I don’t show up. Next time you’re over here, email me and you must come for dinner. Bring Skylar.” He opened the door and lowered his voice. “Can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you getting back out there. We were worried that after everything that happened with Selina you wouldn’t take the risk again. And I can see why you were finally tempted back into the scary world of relationships. Skylar is a stunner. Nice smile. Taking her home for Christmas?”
Alec frowned. “No! I—”
“Next time give me more notice. We’ll grab a beer. Give my love to your family. May and I are going over there for New Year’s Eve. Looking forward to your mother’s cooking—wish she’d give mine a few lessons.” He slapped Alec on the shoulder and was out the door before Alec had time to correct the misconceptions that were piling up.
He stood in the doorway, digesting the fact that his friends and family were still speculating on his divorce and love life.
He’d carefully laid down ground rules for that.
As far as he was concerned the subject was closed and he’d moved on.
He tried to spend as little time as possible thinking about his marriage. He certainly didn’t want others thinking about it.
Aware that there was silence from the bedroom, Alec locked the door and walked back into the room.
Skylar had fallen asleep.
Her hair, clean again, lay in a pool around her shoulders, as if someone had knocked over a jar of pale creamy honey.
Alec stared down at her and felt a flicker of concern.
He found himself wishing she’d wake up and return to her chatty, energetic self. Being with Skylar was like being outdoors without sunglasses on a day when the sun was just a little too bright. Usually he wanted to turn down the wattage, but maybe that was because his own world had been dark and gray for the past few years.
Sleeping Beauty, he thought and gently pulled the cover over her.
There was no question of her going back to her own hotel, at least not tonight.
He dimmed the lights, wondering what to do about his family gathering.
His mother was working on Christmas Day and he’d be back on Puffin Island, so this date for their annual “early Christmas” had been in his calendar for months.
It was the one time of year everyone made an effort to be together.
There was no way he could cancel.
Which left him with the problem of what to do about Skylar.
Through the window he could see the snow falling layer upon layer, leaving an ever-deepening carpet of white on the streets below.
If it didn’t stop soon, his journey home the next day would be hazardous. Negotiating English country roads in the middle of a snowstorm was not for the fainthearted.
He opened his laptop, scanned the news and found a photograph of Richard Everson. The caption said that he’d been in London for the exhibition of his girlfriend, jewelry designer Skylar Tempest. There was nothing about the proposal.
Alec closed his laptop and strolled over to the bed to check on Skylar again.
She was still sleeping, her breathing even, the bruising on her head dark against the swathe of pale hair.
The bed was huge, plenty big enough for two people to spend the night and not come into contact, but he lifted the bags from the sofa and piled them on the floor. He’d slept in places where most people wouldn’t venture, so the prospect of a night on a sofa didn’t bother him.
What bothered him was the woman lying in the bed.
CHAPTER THREE
SKYLAR WOKE TO find her head still pounding. This time it felt as if someone was having a fireworks display inside her skull.
It was still dark in the room and it took her a moment to remember what had happened.
Her relationship with Richard was over.
Over, over, over.
She relived the evening in fast-forward, from the moment he’d taken the microphone to the moment she’d had to sprint to the bathroom.
She’d been ill, and in front of Alec Hunter of all people.
Why, oh why, couldn’t she have lost her memory?
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow to muffle the groan, and then a horrible thought occurred to her and she lifted her head and checked the bed next to her.
It was empty.
Well, that was something to be grateful for. She might have crashed in the wrong bed, but at least she hadn’t slept with the enemy.
Feeling wobbly and thoroughly irritated with herself, she slid out of bed and saw Alec asleep on the sofa. He was too tall and broad for it and she suspected he’d had a very uncomfortable night. Strands of dark hair flopped over his handsome face, signposting a bone structure that made the artist in her want to reach for a pencil.
Sleep softened his hard features and made him seem more approachable.
And of course last night she’d seen a different side of him.
He’d been cool, competent and … kind.
Alec being kind was the last thing she would have expected.
Unlike the man she’d been dating, who had behaved like an unprincipled rat, Alec had refused to abandon her. He’d brought her back here, mo
pped up the blood and held her head while she’d been sick.
That, in her mind, had earned him enough points that he could pretty much do anything and she’d never be able to criticize him again.
Later, she knew that would irritate her, but for now she was grateful.
Grabbing her bag, she dragged herself to the bathroom and recoiled from her reflection.
No wonder he’d wanted to take her to hospital.
She could have starred in A Christmas Carol as one of the ghosts.
Lifting her hair, she studied her face. The corner of the table had caught her above the eye, lacerating the skin, but not badly enough for her to require stitches. Worse, was the bruising. She pulled her hair forward, experimenting as she tried to cover the damage.
Another wave of dizziness hit her and she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again she saw her silver dress rinsed and folded on a towel along with his white shirt.
Only one person could have done that.
Alec.
Rinsing would have ruined the dress, but it was ruined anyway and she was touched that he’d bothered.
Maybe she did have a serious head injury. She was getting soft thoughts about a man who thought she was a waste of space.
She’d go back to her hotel and lie down for a while. That should cure her.
Would Richard be there or had he already flown home?
She stared at herself in the mirror, the question she’d been ignoring looming in her mind.
If she hadn’t stepped back, would he have hit her?
The question went round and round in her mind as she splashed cold water on her face.
Then she tiptoed back into the bedroom intending to find her shoes. Instead, she walked straight into the solid wall of muscle that was Alec Hunter.
His hands gripped her arms and there was a fierce frown on his handsome face. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my hotel. Thank you for your hospitality.”
His grip on her didn’t ease. “You can’t be on your own.”
“I’m fine. I haven’t been sick again and I’ll take those instructions your doctor friend left. If I feel worse, I’ll take a cab to the hospital.”
“It’s December and it’s snowing. Not easy to get a cab.”
“I’ll find one.” Last night she’d been too ill to feel anything other than annoyance and embarrassment but now, in daylight, the whole incident felt sordid. “Look, I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done. I owe you, and part of my repayment is getting out of your way. You have a life to live, Alec. I heard you telling your friend that you were going home to your family.” She paused, distracted by the stack of gifts by the door. “Is there anything in those parcels?”
“Of course. You think I wrapped up empty boxes?” His gaze was curious and she felt the slow burn of embarrassment stain her cheeks.
He was probably wondering if her strange question was a symptom of her head injury.
“Ignore me. Looks like you’re in for a few days of fun.”
A normal Christmas.
The sort she’d never experienced.
“It’s an early family Christmas. We do this every year.” He dismissed it. “You can’t stay on your own, Sky.”
“You’re forgetting I have a bottle of champagne waiting for me at the hotel. I’m going to take a ride on the London Eye at night and go skating at Somerset House. Or maybe I’ll try the rink at the Natural History Museum. What do you think?”
“I think,” he said slowly, “that you’ve damaged yourself enough for one weekend.”
“I’ll have you know I’m a very competent skater. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“So you’re going to go skating by yourself and then drink all the champagne by yourself. That sounds like a lonely way to spend a weekend.”
“I might also order up a ton of cookies and comfort eat while watching holiday movies back-to-back. I’ll be fine, Alec. Go do whatever it is you were planning on doing today before you peeled me off the floor.”
“Will he be there?” He was blunt and direct and she sighed.
“At my hotel? I doubt it, but if he is then I’m sure we’ll have a few things to say to each other.”
“I’m not leaving you on your own with him.”
She was caught in a swirling tide of emotion. Exasperation, frustration that this had happened and something else. Something softer and more dangerous. She was touched. Really touched that he’d helped her and was still helping her.
“You don’t have to be all caveman around me.” Standing this close, she could see the masculine lines of his face and the stubble that shadowed his jaw. He was strikingly handsome and she now knew he was also strong and decent. For some reason she’d found it easier when she hadn’t known that about him. “I can handle Richard.”
“The way you handled him last night?”
“I handled him just fine until I fell.”
“And if you hadn’t fallen?” He spoke softly. “What then?”
She knew what he was asking because she’d been asking herself the same thing. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “And it doesn’t matter now. I appreciate your concern, but this is my problem and I’ll deal with it.”
“You’re not in a fit state to deal with anything. If he walked into the room now, what would you do? You don’t have the strength to defend yourself from anyone. You’re vulnerable.”
And yet hadn’t she been a thousand times more vulnerable the night before, with Alec?
He’d seen her stripped down, bare, both literally and figuratively.
And she’d seen him.
Her brief glimpse of his powerful frame was welded into her brain.
Heat poured over her and she tried to make a joke.
“I could vomit on him. That would send him running, believe me.”
He didn’t smile. Instead he crossed the room, picked up her purse and found her phone. “Check your messages. I want to know if he called.”
“I forgot to switch it on. It’s an annoying habit of mine.” Hands shaking, she took the phone. “He won’t have called. I don’t think you know Richard very well. I damaged his ego.” But that was the least of her problems. She switched her phone on and saw four missed calls. “Two calls from Brittany, one from Emily and one message from my mother.” Even though she could guess what it would be about, a faint thread of hope made her press the button to listen. Because her fingers were shaky and she wasn’t concentrating she played it back on speaker.
“Skylar? Richard landed at JFK a few hours ago and called to update us, which was good of him under the circumstances. I had hoped that the time had come when I could stop having to make excuses for you. That this once you’d make the right decision. But it seems not. I confess that of all the difficult conversations I’ve had in my life, that was one of the most awkward and embarrassing. You’d better call him back fast and hope he’ll reconsider.”
Awkward and embarrassing was having played that back on speaker.
Without looking at Alec she ended the call, digesting the fact that while she’d been bleeding and throwing up in Alec’s bathroom, Richard had been flying first-class across the Atlantic.
Feeling as energetic as roadkill, she sank onto the sofa Alec had recently vacated.
“Well, I guess you have the answer to your question. No one is looking for me, so you can safely leave me unprotected.”
And alone.
Totally alone.
London no longer felt exciting and full of possibilities. It felt big and impersonal.
“That was your mother?”
Hearing the undercurrent of shock in his voice, Sky kept her head down and sent a quick text to Brittany. “Yeah, she’s always pretty formal on the phone. Of course it doesn’t help that she’s probably gone nuclear over this thing with Richard.” Without elaborating, she dropped the phone in her bag. “I have one more favor to ask. Could I borrow a shirt? I’ll return it next ti
me I see you.”
“I’m not leaving you alone in an impersonal hotel room when you’re vulnerable. You’re coming home with me.”
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say and she glanced up at him, shocked. “You’re kidding. Alec, we’re not even friends.”
“You need to stop being a drama queen. It’s too early in the morning.” A smile touched the corners of his mouth, distracting her.
She was usually too busy being irritated to notice the detail of his features but this close she could see that his eyelashes were thick and dark. He hadn’t shaved and the line of his lower cheek and jaw was dark with stubble.
In that single moment she could understand why he had an army of female fans.
Alec Hunter might be insanely irritating, but he was also insanely hot.
And now she knew what he was hiding away under the smart suits and rugged outdoor wear.
Unsettled, she looked away. Maybe she was vulnerable. Something had to explain the way her brain was working.
“Usually you accuse me of being a fairy princess.” She tried to lighten the atmosphere. “I’m trying to work out if drama queen is a promotion or not.”
“It’s a sideways move. Where are you staying? We need to collect your things and settle your bill.”
“Alec, you can’t just—”
“Either you disappoint my family by making me stay here with you, or you come with me. Your choice.”
She gave a choked laugh. “You heard my mom—I don’t make good choices.”
“You mean you don’t make the choices other people want you to make,” he said drily. “If you really want to stuff yourself with cookies you can do it at my house. My mother loves to bake. She’ll be delighted to have someone with your appetite to feed. There will be enough carbohydrate and sugar on offer to comfort an entire sorority.”
“You’re British. What do you know about sororities?”
“My father is American.”
“I didn’t know that about you.” She was starting to realize there was plenty she didn’t know about him, including the fact that caring for a sick woman didn’t put the smallest dent in his calm demeanor.
And he was decent.