she could quietly freeze him off. After all, past boyfriends had remarked with some bitterness that it was something she was good at! And though he might not relish having to take no for an answer, she couldn’t see him forcing himself on any woman.
He wouldn’t need to. A man such as he was more likely to have to fight off eager females.
It seemed strange that he wasn’t married. Perhaps he was the ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type? Or maybe he preferred a live-in lover? She couldn’t see a man with such an aura of sexuality living like a monk.
But if he was involved in any kind of serious, long-term relationship, why had he returned home alone? Unless his partner planned to follow…
‘The best thing about a stir-fry is that it doesn’t take too long.’
Gideon’s voice broke into Anna’s thoughts and, startled, she looked up to find him by her side. He was holding a small round tray which he settled on her knees. It held a napkin, a glass of wine, a bowl heaped with chicken, prawns and colourful vegetables, and a pair of chopsticks.
He put the bottle containing the remaining wine on the low table, and a moment later, equipped with a matching tray, took his seat opposite.
Raising his glass, so the flickering flames turned the colourless wine to gold, he said, ‘Here’s to us!’
She drank dutifully.
‘A stir-fry may not be particularly appropriate,’ he admitted with a grin, ‘but tuck in while it’s nice and hot.’
Suddenly finding she was hungry after all, she needed no more urging.
For a while they ate in silence, then, picking up the bottle of wine, he leaned forward to refill her glass.
She shook her head. ‘No more for me, thank you.’
‘Sure you won’t have another glass? After all, it is Christmas Eve.’
‘I don’t think so, thanks,’ she refused politely. ‘I don’t usually drink.’
‘How virtuous of you.’
Ignoring the blatant mockery, she concentrated on her food. It was surprisingly good, and when her bowl was empty she looked up to say, ‘Thank you very much. I enjoyed that.’
‘Tomorrow we’ll stick with traditional Christmas fare—turkey, stuffing, and all the trimmings. I even remembered to buy cranberry sauce,’ he added triumphantly.
When she said nothing, he quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘Don’t you think congratulations are in order?’
‘I expect to be gone by tomorrow morning.’ Her voice was unconsciously edgy.
‘Listening to that wind howling, and the snow beating against the windows, I shouldn’t bet on it. I remember a similar blizzard when I was a boy,’ he went on reminiscently. ‘Because the drive dips in several places, and the contours of the land encourage drifting, we were snowed in for several days. Still, if we are snowbound, we’ve plenty of food and drink and a good supply of logs, so there’s nothing to worry about. We’re lucky, really.’
It was pretty much what she’d told herself earlier, but hearing him sound so glib and self-satisfied touched her on the raw.
Suddenly, he started to chuckle.
It was a deep, attractive sound that at any other time would have made her want to laugh with him. Now, she protested stiffly, ‘I really don’t see anything to laugh at.’
‘You’re not sitting where I am. If you could see your face!’
Her grey eyes sparkling with anger, she pointed out, ‘It’s all right for you. You’re at home, where you want to be.’
‘Do I take it you’d sooner be sitting alone in a bedsit? Or inflicting yourself on a family who may not really want you?’
Cheeks burning, Anna wished, not for the first time, that she hadn’t told him so much. She wasn’t usually so forthcoming. It had been sheer nervousness that had made her babble on.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment. ‘That wasn’t particularly kind.’
She grasped the nettle. ‘No, but it doesn’t stop it being true.’
‘Actually, I doubt if it is. Put it down to pique on my part, because I’m very happy with the way things have turned out.’
When, flustered, she said nothing, he went on, ‘If you were born and bred here, you must have plenty of close friends?’
‘After I left school I was away at college for three years, and then I lived in London for two. I lost touch with most of them.’
‘Well, if there’s nothing spoiling, so to speak, I don’t see why you’re so desperate to get away. I know that at the moment the Manor has a distinct lack of creature comforts, but I was hoping you might have enough spirit to be able to regard being marooned here as fun, a kind of adventure…’
That was how she would have regarded it, had the man been any other than himself.
But she could hardly tell him that.
Eyes gleaming between those fascinating long lashes, he went on with mock sympathy, ‘But I guess the whole thing must be terribly unnerving, especially when the lights keep going out—’
As though on cue, the lights flickered and dimmed, before brightening again.
‘—and you’re stranded in the dark with a man you know absolutely nothing about. A man who could be anything or anybody…’
Well aware by now that she was being teased, she smiled and said, ‘It’s not quite that bad. After all, I know you’re Sir Ian’s son, and the new master of Hartington Manor.’
‘Well, now you’re satisfied that I pose no threat—’
‘I didn’t say that.’ The words were out before she could prevent them.
Green eyes alight with laughter, he glanced at the mistletoe, which he’d hung from a hook on the beamed ceiling. ‘Ah! Well, perhaps if I burn the mistletoe?’
It was clear that he’d noticed her reaction to his kiss. But then an experienced man such as he could hardly have failed to.
Blushing furiously, she said, ‘I hardly think it’s necessary to burn it.’
‘You mean if I just refrain from making use of it?’ He sighed deeply. ‘A pity, really, as it’s the festive season. Still, if that’s what it takes to make you feel happy and secure… Now, would you like anything else to eat? Fruit? Cheese? Christmas cake?’
‘Nothing else, thank you,’ she said primly.
‘Then I’ll make some coffee.’
While he filled a cafétière and set a tray with sugar, cream and fine bone-china cups, she thought about what had just been said.
In
