One Winter's Day: A Diamond in Her Stocking / Christmas Where They Belong / Snowed in at the Ranch. Marion Lennox

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One Winter's Day: A Diamond in Her Stocking / Christmas Where They Belong / Snowed in at the Ranch - Marion  Lennox

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us getting together ever happened?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It was a lapse of judgement on my part.’

      He snorted. ‘I’ve been insulted before but to be called a “lapse of judgement” is a first.’

      She clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that.’

      ‘I’m tough; I can take it,’ he said. He went to shrug his shoulders but it hurt. In spite of his bravado, so had her words.

      ‘But I meant it,’ she said. ‘It should never have happened. The...the episode on the balcony was a mistake.’ She had a soft, sweet mouth but her words twisted it into something bordering on bitter.

      ‘I remember it as being a whole lot of fun,’ he said slowly.

      She tilted her chin in a movement that was surprisingly combative. ‘Seems like our memories of that night are very different.’

      ‘I remember lots of laughter and a warm, beautiful woman by my side,’ he said.

      By now she had braced herself against the back of the counter as if she wanted to push herself away from him as far as she possibly could. ‘You mean you’ve forgotten the way a rowdy group of your friends came out and...and caught us—’

      ‘Caught us kissing. Yeah. I remember. I’ve known those people all my life. They were teasing. You didn’t seem to be bothered by it at the time.’

      ‘It was embarrassing.’

      ‘You were laughing.’

      That piece of hair was getting a workout now between her slender fingers. ‘To hide how I really felt.’

      He paused. ‘Do you often do that?’

      She stilled. ‘Laugh, you mean?’

      He searched her face. ‘Hide how you really feel.’

      She met his gaze full on with a challenging tilt to her head. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’

      ‘You laughed it off. Said you had to go check on Amy.’

      Her gaze slid away so it didn’t meet his. ‘Yes.’

      ‘You never came back.’

      ‘I did but...but you were otherwise engaged.’

      ‘Huh? I don’t get it. I was waiting for you.’ He’d checked his watch time and time again, but she still hadn’t shown up. Finally he’d asked someone if they’d seen Lizzie. They’d pointed her out on the other side of the room in conversation with a group of the most gossipy girls in Dolphin Bay. She hadn’t come near him again.

      Now she met his eyes again, hers direct and shadowed with accusation. ‘You were dancing with another woman. When you’d told me all dances for the evening were reserved for me.’

      He remembered the running joke they had shared—Jesse with a ‘Reserved for Lizzie’ sign on his back, Lizzie with a ‘Reserved for Jesse’ sign. The possessiveness had been in jest but he had meant it.

      He frowned. ‘After the duty dances for the wedding—including with your delightful little daughter—the only woman I danced with that evening was you. Refresh my memory about the other one?’

      She turned her head to the side. Her body language told him loud and clear she’d rather be anywhere else than here with him. In spite of the café and Sandy and family obligations.

      ‘It was nothing,’ she said, tight-lipped. ‘You had every right to dance with another woman.’

      He reached out and cupped her chin to pull her back to face him. ‘Let’s get this straight. I only wanted to dance with you that night.’

      For a long moment he looked deep into her eyes until she tried to wiggle away from him and he released her. ‘So describe this mystery woman to me,’ he said.

      ‘Black hair, tall, beautiful, wearing a red dress.’ It sounded as if the words were being dragged out of her.

      He frowned.

      ‘You seemed very happy to be with her,’ she prompted.

      Realisation dawned. ‘Red dress? It was my cousin. I was with my cousin Marie. She’d just told me she was pregnant. She and her husband had been trying for years to start a family. I was talking with her while I waited for you to come back.’

      ‘Oh,’ Lizzie said in a very small voice, her head bowed.

      ‘I wasn’t dancing with her. More like whirling her around in a dance of joy. A baby is everything she’s always wanted.’

      ‘I...I’m glad for her,’ Lizzie said in an even more diminished voice.

      He couldn’t keep the edge of anger from his voice. ‘You thought I’d moved on to someone else? That I’d kissed you out on the balcony—in front of an audience—and then found another woman while you were out of the room for ten minutes?’

      She looked up at him. ‘That’s what it seemed like from where I was standing. I’ve never felt so foolish.’

      ‘So why didn’t you come over and slap me on the face or whack me with your purse or do whatever jealous women do in such circumstances?’

      ‘I wasn’t jealous. Just...disappointed.’ Her gaze slid away again.

      ‘I was disappointed when you didn’t come back. When you took off to Sydney the next day without saying goodbye. When you didn’t return my phone calls.’

      ‘I...I...misunderstood. I’m sorry.’

      She turned her back on him and walked around the countertop so it formed a physical barrier between them. When she got to the glass jars she picked one up and put it down. He noticed her hands weren’t quite steady.

      Even with the counter between them, it would be easy to lean over and touch her again. Even kiss her. He fought the impulse. She so obviously didn’t want to be touched. And he didn’t want to start anything he had no intention of continuing. He wanted to clear up a misunderstanding that had festered for six months. That was all. He took a step back to further increase the distance between them.

      ‘I get what happened. You believed my bad publicity,’ he said.

      ‘Publicity? I don’t know what you mean.’ But the flickering of her eyelashes told him she probably had a fair idea of what he meant.

      ‘My reputation. Don’t tell me you weren’t warned about me. That I’m a player. A ladies’ man. That you’d be one of “Jesse’s girls” until I tired of you.’

      How he’d grown to hate that old song from the nineteen-eighties where the singer wailed over and over that he wanted ‘Jessie’s girl’. Apparently his parents had played it at his christening party and it had followed him ever since; had become his signature song.

      She

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