bra-less, that left nothing to the imagination. She had a stupendous figure and every inch of it was available for inspection as she walked slowly into the kitchen, enjoying the attention.
Through the thin, grey vest, Jamie could see the outline of her sister’s nipples. Ryan would similarly be taking that in. Yes, he had told her that he would keep away from Jessica, but how strong was any red-blooded man’s will power when it came to a sexy woman who was overtly encouraging?
‘Well?’ Jessica paused and leaned against the counter, legs lightly crossed at the ankles, her back arched so that her breasts were provocatively thrust forward. ‘What warning?’
‘A warning,’ Ryan drawled, ‘that I’m not to interfere and try and persuade you to return to your husband.’
Jessica looked at her sister narrowly. ‘That true, Jamie?’
‘Why would he lie?’
‘So you don’t mind me staying with you for a while? Maybe until Christmas is over? I mean, it’s only a couple of weeks away. I could help you decorate the tree and stuff and by then I might have got my head together.’
Boxed in, Jamie had no choice but to concede defeat.
‘Hey, we could even have a party!’ She looked sideways at Ryan and shot him a half-smile. ‘I’m great at organising parties. What are you up to at Christmas, anyway?’
‘Jessica!’
‘Oh, don’t be such a bore, Jamie.’
‘I’m in the country,’ Ryan murmured. ‘Why?’ He had already received so many invitations to join people for Christmas lunch that he was seriously considering ignoring them all and locking himself away in his apartment until the fuss was over.
‘You could join us here.’
Adjacent to Jamie, he was aware of her look of pure horror at the suggestion. He nearly burst out laughing, but he managed to keep a straight face as he appeared to give the offer considerable thought.
‘Well …’ He hesitated. ‘I am in the unique position of spending Christmas day without my family.’
‘Where are they?’ Jessica strolled towards him, her thumbs hooked lightly into the elasticated waistband of the culottes so that they were dragged slightly down, exposing a flat, brown belly and the twinkling glitter of her pierced navel.
No wonder Jamie worried about her sister, Ryan thought. The woman was clearly a walking, talking liability to anybody’s peace of mind.
‘They’re in the Caribbean.’
Jessica’s eyes rounded into impressed saucers and her mouth fell open. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘I have a house there and this year they’ve all decided to spend Christmas and New Year in it.’
‘I don’t know why we’re having this silly conversation,’ Jamie interrupted crisply. ‘Ryan already has his own plans for Christmas.’ She rose to her feet and pulled open the dishwasher, which was her way of announcing that it was time for the impromptu evening to come to an end. But Jessica was in full flow, quizzing Ryan about his house in the Caribbean, asking him what it looked like, while he answered with just the sort of indulgent amusement that she was accustomed to getting. It had never mattered what boundaries Jessica had over-stepped; the world had always smiled and allowed her to get away with it. Whoever said that beautiful people didn’t lead charmed lives?
‘I’m open to persuasion,’ Ryan finished, leaning back and watching Jamie bang pans into cupboards, frustration stamped on her face, her mouth downturned and scowling. ‘What were you going to do, Jamie? Bit boring if you had been planning to stay in on your own.’
‘I would rather call it peaceful,’ she snapped. ‘And, besides, I had plans to go out for drinks on Christmas morning with some friends and I would probably have hung around for their alternative Christmas lunch.’
‘I want traditional,’ Jessica stated flatly.
‘What’s Greg going to do?’ Jamie spun round to look at her sister. ‘Does he know that you’re planning on abandoning him for Christmas day?’
‘He won’t mind. He’s on call, and anyway, his parents can’t wait to have him all to themselves so that they can tell him what a rotten wife I am. So …’ That technicality concluded, Jessica turned her attention back to Ryan, who looked as comfortable and settled in the kitchen as though he had been there a million times. ‘Will you come? Jamie’s never been into Christmas, but I’ll make her stick up a tree, and it’ll be festive with a turkey and all the trimmings!’
‘I’m sure he’ll think about it. Just stop nagging him, Jess!’ Jamie was pretty sure that she could convince Ryan to ignore her sister’s rantings. He was a guy who was in great demand. The last thing he would want to do would be to sit around a small pine table in a kitchen and dine on a turkey reluctantly cooked by his secretary. Just the thought of it made her shiver in nervous apprehension.
‘It’s wonderful the way you can answer on my behalf.’ Ryan grinned at Jamie, who scowled back at him. ‘It’s probably why we work so well together. You know just when to read my mind.’
‘Ha-ha. Very funny.’
‘But she’s right.’ He stood up and glanced at Jessica. ‘I’ll think about it and let Jamie know.’
‘Or you could let me know. I’ll give you my mobile number and you can get in touch any time at all. No need to go through Jamie.’
He left five minutes later and Jamie sagged. The peace of having her sister upstairs safely in bed was greatly diminished by the nasty tangle of thoughts playing in her mind.
Not only had Ryan found out more about her in the space of an hour than he had in eighteen months, but she was now facing the alarming prospect that, having wedged his foot through the door, it would be impossible to get him to remove it.
Everything that had always been so straightforward had now been turned on its head.
And what if the man decided to descend on them for Christmas lunch?
Apprehension sizzled in her and, alongside that very natural apprehension, something else, something even more worrying, something that closely resembled … anticipation.
CHAPTER THREE
CHRISTMAS’S rapid approach brought a temporary lull in the usual relentless work-ethic. Ryan Sheppard made a very good Christmas boss. He entered into the spirit of things by personally supervising the decorations and cracking open champagne at six every evening for whoever happened to be around in the countdown to the big day. Extra-long lunch hours shopping were tactfully overlooked. On Christmas Eve, work was due to stop at twelve and the rest of the day given over to the Secret Santa gift exchanges and an elaborate buffet lunch which would be prepared by Ryan’s caterers.
On the home front, Jamie was stoically putting up with a sister who had decided to throw herself into the party season with gay abandon. She tagged along to all the Christmas parties to which Jamie had been invited, flirted outrageously with every halfway decent-looking bachelor, and in the space of a week and a half collected more phone numbers
