The Magic of Christmas Page 8

  ‘The boiler is in the basement. I’ll show you how to adjust it later.’ He stroked Aggie’s hair and glanced over her shoulder at Chloe. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling with laughter, but there was a wary look in her eyes that hadn’t been there when he’d first entered the room.

  Was it him? Had he done something?

  Did she blame him for the fact that her mother had left?

  ‘Hello, Daddy.’ She rushed to turn the music down. ‘Did you have a good day?’

  Christian frowned, wondering why she felt the need to stop what she was doing. It didn’t escape his notice that in comparison with Aggie’s unselfconscious exuberance, Chloe was painfully, almost unnaturally well behaved. He studied her for a moment, trying to work out the problem and failing. He wanted her to act like the child she still was and it seemed as though she’d been doing exactly that until he’d walked into the room.

  Why had his sudden entrance had that effect on her?

  Suddenly he wished that baby daughters were delivered with manuals. He had absolutely no idea how he should be handling this current phase in her life. What if her subdued behaviour had nothing to do with the divorce? What if she was being bullied at school? What if there was a boy?

  He broke out in a cold sweat and then reassured himself that there was no way that Chloe had boy trouble. Yet. But boy trouble would undoubtedly come in time, and he would be expected to help her with her problems.

  Lara was still trying to catch her breath. She didn’t appear to notice anything amiss so he just smiled at Chloe. ‘I had a good day, thanks, sweetheart. How about you?’

  ‘Very good. Lara’s a great cook. We made nuggets together and she’s made you casserole.’

  Aggie bounced in his arms. ‘And she’s going to decorate the whole house and Chloe’s bedroom, and, if I help unpack the last of the boxes, can we go and get a huge tree on Sunday?’

  Christian’s eyes slid to Lara. Her cheeks were still pink from the dancing, her blonde hair kicked up at the edges and her full mouth was curved in a wide, happy smile.

  ‘Sorry. Hope I haven’t overstepped the mark,’ she said breathlessly, waving a hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool herself down. ‘You’re working on Saturday so I thought the girls and I could spend the day transforming the house into something Christmassy. But if you’d rather we didn’t…’

  ‘That sounds like an excellent idea. I have a decorator that I used when we first moved in. I’ll call him. The whole house used to be red.’

  ‘I loved it,’ Aggie sighed. ‘It was like living inside a fire engine.’

  ‘How relaxing.’ Lara laughed, exchanging a look of sympathy with Christian. ‘If your decorator is free, that would be great. He could do Chloe’s room and that would leave us free to concentrate on the rest of the house.’

  ‘Lara made you dinner.’ Aggie jiggled in his arms. ‘Will you read to me now or do you have to go and eat?’

  His eyes slid to Lara in a silent question but she shrugged, completely relaxed.

  ‘Dinner can wait. It’s just a casserole. I didn’t want to make anything elaborate because I didn’t know what time you’d be in or whether you would have eaten. Read to Aggie. It’s much more important. You can eat when she’s asleep. Chloe—why don’t you and I finish that design for your bedroom?’

  Christian tried not to remember the number of times that his wife had lost her temper when he’d wanted to relax with the children after a day at work.

  But Lara wasn’t his wife, he reminded himself. ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘Not yet.’ She pulled the antlers from her head and dropped them onto the sofa. ‘I’ll grab some casserole later. Or make some toast. Whatever.’

  ‘We’ll put the girls to bed and then eat together.’ Like one big happy family. He almost laughed as he listened to himself, wondering with cynical amusement which of his suggestions sounded more intimate. Eating together or putting his children to bed? He lowered Aggie to the floor, wondering why on earth he’d agreed to Lara’s offer to move in with them. ‘Go and get into your pyjamas, clean your teeth and I’ll come and read to you.’

  And then he was going to pour himself a large drink and try not to think about Lara’s legs.

  * * *

  Lara emptied the bath, cleared up the toys, checked on Chloe, who was reading a book on her bed, and then returned to the kitchen.

  She lifted the large casserole dish out of the oven and placed it in the middle of the table, then added warmed plates, baked potatoes and a bowl of broccoli.

  She’d considered serving dinner in the formal dining room and had then thought better of it. It didn’t take a genius to know that Christian wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation so it would be more sensible to eat in the kitchen. It would look less as though she was trying to be romantic.

  She was humming to herself and removing a bottle of mineral water from the fridge when Christian strolled into the room.

  ‘You’re always singing.’

  ‘Sorry. I like singing.’

  His eyes slid to the bottle of water. ‘Given that neither of us are working this evening, I think we can do better than that.’

  It was so much easier to resist him when he was dressed in a blue scrub suit, Lara thought desperately, flattening herself against the fridge door as he crossed the room towards her.

  He’d showered and changed into jeans and a chunky roll-neck jumper. His hair was still slightly damp but he hadn’t bothered to shave and his jaw was dark with stubble. He looked impossibly sexy and for a distinctly unsettling moment she felt her stomach roll over, as if she were on an extreme ride at a theme park.

  She contemplated crawling inside the fridge in order to cool herself down but opted instead for clutching the chilled water against her chest.

  Apparently oblivious to the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her, he reached past her and pulled out a bottle of wine. His arm brushed against hers and the contact was like an electric shock. Lara gritted her teeth and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them it was to find him looking at her, and the fire blazing from his blue eyes made her realise that she wasn’t the only one who was struggling with the situation.

  She waited for him to speak but he said nothing. He just looked at her and awareness exploded between them.

  ‘Is it me or is it getting hot in here?’ She gave a weak smile. ‘We’d better move before we defrost the fridge. Let’s open that wine and drink it.’

  His jaw tightened and he moved away and reached for a bottle-opener. ‘This thing between us…’ he stabbed the cork viciously ‘…isn’t going to go anywhere, Lara.’

  So he wasn’t denying that the chemistry existed. She made a noise that was something between a whimper and a laugh. ‘That’s fine by me. I’m off to Australia in a month and a broken heart isn’t on my Christmas list.’

  He yanked the cork out of the bottle with more force than was necessary and turned to face her, his expression serious. ‘So that’s settled, then.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her eyes met his and they stared at each other for a long moment. Ignoring her shaking legs, she walked over to the table. ‘It would make the process easier if I could find a major flaw in you. Usually I manage it without any help but with you—I don’t know, I seem to be struggling.’

  ‘I’d be happy to help.’ He lifted two glasses out of the cupboard, the tension visible in his shoulders. ‘What sort of flaw are you looking for?’

  ‘Anything, as long as it’s big and seriously off-putting. OK, let’s try something. Here’s a question for you. If I handed you a large bar of chocolate, would you eat some of it or all of it?’

  ‘It depends on how hungry I was.’

  ‘Perfect answer!’ She felt a rush of relief and sat down on the nearest chair. ‘You’ve just revealed a major flaw because I’d eat the whole thing even if I was completely full to bursting. Restraint when it comes to chocolate is a major flaw as far as I’m concerned. You’re
sunk. We’d never be happy together.’

  He put the glasses and the wine down on the table. ‘Do you always look for flaws in men?’

  ‘Not intentionally. They just sort of jump out at me. According to my mother, I’m just too fussy, but I don’t see how you can be too fussy, do you? I mean, there’s no point in spending the rest of your life with a man who makes you shudder, is there?’

  Christian gave a faint smile as he poured the wine. ‘I think you’re right to be fussy. It’s easy to make a mistake.’ He handed her a glass. ‘And then other people suffer.’

  Was that what had happened to him? Had he made a mistake? ‘I don’t think your girls are suffering. I think you’re a fantastic father and they’re jolly lucky to have you,’ she said softly. ‘And now let’s eat. I can’t have a conversation as deep as this on an empty stomach and the casserole is getting cold.’

  Without giving him the chance to answer, she spooned casserole onto his plate, trying to slow the thud of her heart.

  When she’d suggested moving in, it hadn’t occurred to her for a moment that she’d find it as difficult as this. She never found men irresistible. Never.

  It was just because he was keeping his distance, she thought dryly as she put a baked potato on her plate. If he’d shown anything less than iron self-control, she would have been the one backing off.

  He watched her for a long moment. ‘Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?’

  ‘Almost always. It’s my biggest failing. I find it impossible to think one thing and say another.’ She shrugged. ‘My mother thinks I’ll never find a man until I learn not to talk so much. Which basically means that I’m doomed.’

  ‘You’re obviously close to your family.’

  ‘Very.’ She put a knob of butter on her baked potato and watched while it melted. ‘We grew up on a farm in a pretty corner of Dorset where everyone knew everyone. London has been quite a culture shock for me. Everyone lives parallel lives. No one notices or cares what anyone else is doing.’ And she’d never quite got used to being so far from her family.

  ‘How long have you worked here?’

  ‘Two years.’ Lara added some broccoli to her plate. ‘I moved because I wanted the experience of working in the emergency department of a big London teaching hospital. There aren’t that many shootings and stabbings in my part of Dorset and our idea of an RTA is a tractor colliding with a hedge. What about you? Why did you move hospitals?’

  ‘The post was too attractive to turn down. The facilities are amazing and there was an opportunity to do research alongside my clinical responsibilities.’

  ‘In other words, extra work.’

  ‘Something like that. And I thought the change might be good. This casserole is great.’

  Lara speared a piece of meat with her fork and studied it. ‘I probably should have warned you that generally I’m not very domesticated. I’m very untidy and I’m blind to the presence of dirt or dust, but I like my food, so I made sure that I learned to cook. My mother is a wizard in the kitchen.’

  ‘You mentioned that your parents are in France.’

  ‘Yes, they have a house in the Dordogne and they’ve been spending more and more time there. I suppose they thought that with Tom in Australia and me in London, they may as well go to France over Christmas.’ She pushed away the faint feeling of sadness. ‘What about your family? Will they join you over Christmas?’

  ‘No.’

  She waited for him to say more, but he carried on eating. ‘That’s it?’She raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s all you’re going to tell me about your family?’

  ‘There’s not much to tell. I’m an only child. My parents and I aren’t close.’ He lifted his wineglass and drank.

  ‘They’re not interested in their grandchildren?’ She thought about it for a moment. ‘My mother drives Tom and me nuts with her constant nagging about our reluctance to provide her with grandchildren to spoil. Your parents aren’t the same?’

  ‘Hardly.’ His tone was neutral. ‘Children, generally, aren’t their favourite thing.’

  ‘They had you.’

  ‘Yes, although, I sometimes wonder why. I went to boarding school at seven. Don’t look so shocked. It happens.’

  ‘I’m just trying to imagine being sent to boarding school at the age of seven. Who hugged you when you had a bad day?’

  He topped up their glasses. ‘No one hugged me. I didn’t need anyone to hug me.’

  ‘Everyone needs affection.’ Lara put her fork down and reached for her wine. ‘So presumably that’s why you’re so careful about the children’s feelings. You’ve been hurt yourself by the breakdown of an adult relationship.’

  He stilled. ‘I’ve never analysed it before.’

  ‘Men never do. Analysis and guilt is a girl thing.’ She lifted her glass. ‘It’s not enough for us to be screwed up—we have to know the reason that we’re screwed up.’

  Her comment raised a smile but then he glanced at her, his gaze curiously intent. ‘It’s true that I always envisaged having a traditional family one day,’ he said softly. ‘But that’s an out-of-date concept now, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then you’re unusual.’ His smile faded and there was a hard edge to his voice that warned her that they were straying onto sensitive territory.

  Perhaps talking about the children would reduce the tension in the atmosphere. ‘Did you look in on Chloe?’

  ‘Yes, she was still reading.’ Christian toyed with his wineglass. ‘It was good to see her dancing and laughing earlier. She seemed more like her old self. Until I turned up.’

  ‘What do you mean, until you turned up?’

  ‘You didn’t notice?’

  ‘She seemed fine to me. It probably wasn’t a great idea to wind them up before bedtime but I wanted them to get into the Christmas spirit before the weekend.’ Lara dropped her eyes to her plate, because the alternative was staring at him. ‘Do you think you’d be able to take them to buy a Christmas tree on Sunday? They’d love it if you could.’

  ‘I’ll buy one on my way home from work.’

  Appalled, she lifted her gaze. ‘Where’s the fun in that?! They have to help you choose one.’

  ‘They’ll argue.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Lara put down her knife and fork. ‘Very healthy.’

  ‘You’re obviously an expert on Christmas.’

  ‘I love Christmas. Don’t you?’

  His fingers tightened on the stem of his glass. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I don’t. Christmas is for families.’

  ‘You’re a family, Christian.’

  His eyes met hers. ‘Rather a fractured family, don’t you think?’

  ‘Families aren’t all about a mother, father, two children and a dog.’ Lara said mildly.

  Christian lounged back in his seat. ‘Call me old-fashioned, but I still think that’s the ideal set-up.’

  ‘Yes.’ She stared at him for a moment. ‘I suppose I do, too. But life doesn’t always turn out the way you plan, does it? And I suppose it’s hardly surprising. How anyone ever finds someone that they’re compatible with in our busy, hectic world, I don’t know. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

  ‘So is that why you booked your ticket to Australia?’

  She smiled. ‘If you’re asking whether Australia is my haystack then the answer is no. I’m just going to see Tom and maybe travel a bit. I’m not looking for a man. I’m sure they’re just as flawed in Australia as they are over here. But I need a change. I’ve worked in various emergency departments for the past four years and I need something more.’

  ‘You’ll be missed.’ He glanced around the kitchen. ‘I haven’t thanked you properly for everything you’ve done with the house. You may not think you’re domesticated but you’ve succeeded in turning an empty house into a home. Things are improving. Chloe’s still quiet and I haven’t got to the bottom of it but I’m still trying.’

  ‘Perhaps she�
�s just missing her mum.’

  ‘Perhaps. Although, to be honest, Fiona wasn’t around much. She was always working.’

  Lara recalled Chloe saying something similar. ‘It must have been so hard for the children.’

  ‘It happens. Relationships break down every day.’ His gaze was faintly mocking. ‘I’m not easy to live with.’

  Her stomach rolled over and she gave a smile to cover up just how seriously he affected her. ‘So now we’re back to the flaws again. Go on. Tell me the worst.’ She used laughter to conceal her discomfort. ‘Do you lose your temper and yell? Or are you untidy? Do you drop your clothes onto the floor when you take them off, instead of putting them away?’

  ‘And, if I do?’

  ‘Then we both know that you’ll probably be dropping them on top of mine,’ Lara said, her mind again dominated by a disturbing vision of Christian naked. Flustered by her thoughts, she rose to her feet and picked up the rest of the casserole. ‘I’ll freeze this for another day when neither of us can be bothered to cook.’ She lifted the casserole across the work surface and left the lid off so that it would cool.

  Christian stood up. ‘I think we need to agree on a few house rules.’ He cleared the plates and started loading them into the dishwasher. ‘The casserole was delicious but I don’t expect you to cook for me. It’s enough that you’re prepared to move in here and help with my daughters. I can look after myself.’

  She wished he wasn’t standing quite so close. It was impossibly distracting. ‘I like cooking and I don’t have anyone to cook for anymore.’ She sneaked a look at him. ‘I’ll cook if I’m not working late, but if you’re too late home to eat it, it doesn’t matter. How’s that for a compromise?’

  The kitchen door opened and Chloe put her head round. ‘I’m going to bed. Good night.’

  Christian turned. ‘Good night, sweetheart.’ His voice was slightly husky. ‘Do you want me to come and tuck you in?’