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Authors: Emily Harvale

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BOOK: Carole Singer's Christmas
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She felt as if a knife were twisting in her chest. Her gran had done so much for her and yet, when her gran needed her, she clearly hadn’t felt able to ask Carole to come and stay. What did that say about their relationship now? Carole shook her head as the feelings of guilt overwhelmed her.

The door burst open, making her jump back in surprise.

‘Are you coming in or are you going to stand out there all night?’

She found herself staring up into a pair of large dark eyes and yes, she thought, they were as black as coal. They were framed by long lashes as dark as Arkenarten’s fur; the face was definitely handsome but looked as if it had been chiselled out of a chunk of rock. His hair was the colour of burnt, roasted chestnuts: black but with flashes of deep red-brown as the light hit it. His tall, well-built body was hunched slightly in the doorway that he almost completely blocked, and an image of Gulliver in Lilliput sprang into her head.

‘Well? You’re letting the cold in. Perhaps you’d stop looking at me as if you’ve seen a spectre and come in so that I can shut the door.’

‘What? Oh, sorry. It was a dreadful journey. Torrential rain most of the way together with patches of thick fog. That’s why I’m late. It’s taken me much longer than it should have.’

She stepped inside, babbling away to hide the strange feeling of nervousness she was experiencing.

‘Really?’ he said, taking her bag from her and tossing it onto the bottom step of the stairs. ‘I thought perhaps it’d taken you a while to say goodbye to your boyfriend.’

Carole nearly choked. ‘What ... what’s that supposed to mean?’ God! Did he know she’d stopped to have sex with Dom? This man really was the devil.

Nick shrugged his shoulders. ‘You won’t be seeing each other for over a week. Mitsy told me he’s away this weekend ... on business. You’d naturally want to spend some time saying your goodbyes. I know I would if you were my girlfriend.’

‘Oh,’ Carole said, trying to avoid eye contact. Something about the way he was looking at her made her feel very uncomfortable and he’d just reminded her that she’d lied to her gran about the weekend and Dom being away on business. Why hadn’t she just told the truth about that?

‘Well,’ she continued, ‘naturally we ... took a while, but I also had to pack my bag – the one you so kindly just tossed on the stairs. There could be something breakable in there, you know.’

He glanced from her face to the bag and back again. ‘Is there?’

Carole stiffened and raised her eyes to his, tilting her chin up and tossing a long tendril of titian hair over her shoulder. ‘No. But that’s not the point. You shouldn’t throw people’s bags around as if they were ... sacks of compost or something.’

His eyes held hers for a brief moment before his lips curved into a strange smile.

‘If that had been a sack of compost,’ he said, ‘I can assure you I wouldn’t have thrown it. Compost sacks are known to split open and spill the contents all over the floor. I think your underwear is perfectly safe in that leather holdall.’

Carole felt the colour rush to her checks. ‘My ...! Excuse me, but I’d rather
not
discuss my clothing with you. Where’s Gran and how is she?’ As she strode past him into the sitting room, she was sure she could hear him chuckling under his breath and it infuriated her.

Her gran was nowhere to be seen. She turned to face him and was disconcerted to see him leaning against the doorway, his arms folded in front of him, and his dark eyes watching her intently. The blue, red, white and pink checked shirt he was wearing hung open over a plain navy T-shirt that strained across his broad chest and she had to stop herself from saying, ‘Wow!’ The sooner he left the better, she thought.

‘Where’s Gran?’

‘Don’t panic,’ he replied more softly than before, obviously seeing the worry in her eyes. ‘She’s upstairs tucked up in bed. I was just going to make her a cup of tea.’

‘How did she get upstairs with a broken leg?’

‘I carried her. She’s as light as a feather even with her leg in plaster.’

‘Oh!’ A vision of being carried up to bed by this man popped into her head but she quickly chased it out again. Her gran and Josie were right. He did look like a romantic fiction hero.

‘Would you like a cup of tea or would you still prefer the hot chocolate?’ he asked.

‘Er ... hot chocolate, but there’s no need for you to trouble yourself further. I can take it from here. You’ve got a dog, you said ... and possibly a girlfriend to get home to.’

‘Just the dog. His name’s Nicodemus. And it’s no trouble.’

‘Wasn’t he a biblical teacher in Jesus’ time?’

Nick raised his dark brows. ‘My dog? Not as far as I know. I don’t believe in reincarnation – or the Bible for that matter. You’d have to ask him.’

Carole tutted impatiently. ‘Do you try to make a joke of everything? You know that’s not what I meant. I meant Nicodemus was the name of ... oh, it doesn’t matter. You can go now, thank you.’

Nick smirked, stood up straight and doffed an imaginary cap. ‘Yes mi’lady. Thank you, mi’lady. I’ll just say goodnight to Mitsy and I’ll get out of your way.’ He turned and took the stairs three at a time.

Carole leant her head to one side to watch the long, athletic legs make short work of the steep, narrow stairs, and she shook herself mentally. What was the matter with her? She was clearly overtired. Why was she ogling this irritating man’s rear view when her darling Dom was now sitting in their house, alone and possibly missing her already?

As she walked into the kitchen, she realised just how ridiculous that thought was. Dom was probably fast asleep on the sofa, dreaming about his upcoming trip to Manchester to see
Rob The Rich,
whilst the TV no doubt was still blaring in front of his long, lithe, prostrate body.

And she was still thinking about Dom’s body but not just
his
body, when Nick appeared at the kitchen door just a few minutes later.

‘Mitsy’s fast asleep and I didn’t want to wake her. She knows you were coming down so there’s no need to tell her you’ve arrived – unless you want to, of course. I’ll be off if there’s nothing else you want me to do for you before I go.’

 Carole’s cheeks burned as she felt her eyes travel the length of Nick’s frame. She had no idea why but she was actually wondering if he would have only taken five minutes to ... say goodbye if he had been in Dom’s place earlier. Too scared to speak in case her voice betrayed her thoughts, she just shook her head.

He eyed her curiously and grinned, as if he were reading her mind. ‘Okay, I’ll say goodnight then. I’ll pop by first thing in the morning to check on you both. Pleasant dreams.’

‘Er ... same to you,’ she managed to say.

Nick disappeared into the hallway only to reappear at the door seconds later. ‘It was lovely to finally meet you, Carole. Mitsy has told me so much about you that I feel I know you already. I’m glad we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.’

Carole watched in silence as the sexiest smile she’d ever seen spread across his decidedly kissable mouth and an image of them ripping one another’s clothes off popped briefly into her head.

He turned and marched towards the front door and Carole grabbed the edge of the worktop to stop herself from running after him. Not that she really thought she would. Although ...

Good grief! She really was turning into her mother. She was now the sort of woman who chased after any sexy male she met – whether she actually liked them or not!

‘Bye! And thank you!’ she yelled seconds before she heard the front door close.

She made herself some hot chocolate and sat at the kitchen table, lost in thought until Arkenarten finally slinked in to greet her. He jumped up onto her lap, purring like a washing machine as Carole stroked him under his chin. He responded by rubbing his large furry head against her cheek.

In the space of just one evening, her emotions had been sent spiralling with thoughts of three very different men and she wasn’t absolutely sure how she felt about any of them.

There was Sebastian, her past boyfriend and a man she still had feelings for in spite of saying she didn’t. He’d broken her heart so badly that she had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown and if it hadn’t been for her gran taking care of her, she probably would have had one. It had taken her years to get over him sufficiently to be able to start dating other men.

That’s when she’d met Dominic, her present boyfriend and soon to be fiancé, whom she sometimes felt was more interested in his career, the television, his friends and, well everything else other than her. She had spent the last few months hoping he would propose but did she really, honestly want to spend the rest of her life with him? Especially now that Sebastian was back and would soon be single again. She loved Dom; she was sure of that, but not as much as she had loved Sebastian all those years ago.

And now there was this Nick. A man she knew nothing whatsoever about and had disliked from the moment her gran had mentioned his name – and having met him, felt that she probably still did. There was definitely something not quite right about him. He was almost too good to be true. He’d probably turn out to be one of those gigolos or something. A man who preyed on old and vulnerable women to get either their money or sex – or both. And yet she couldn’t deny that from the first moment she set eyes on him, she had been ... mesmerised. That was the only word for it. Perhaps he really did have some strange magical powers of some sort.

She grinned at her own foolishness. ‘Magical powers indeed. What am I going on about Arkenarten? And you are the most gorgeous male I know. I really wish all the others were as uncomplicated as you. Right, I think it’s time you and I went to bed, young man.’

He jumped off her lap and headed for the door and she followed him upstairs. She looked in on her gran and saw she was sound asleep so she headed for the room that was considered ‘hers’; one of the three spare bedrooms that overlooked the back garden and the ancient apple tree.

Arkenarten jumped up on the bed and stretched himself out, rolling over several times before curling up in the middle of the duvet.

‘Typical man,’ she said, getting undressed and falling into bed beside him, suddenly feeling too tired to even try to move him over. It had been a very peculiar evening and she had the strangest feeling that things were going to get decidedly more complicated from here on in.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

Carole woke with a start, unsure at first where she was but certain that she could hear someone moving about downstairs. She sat bolt upright and instinctively reached out for Dominic but remembering she was at her gran’s, for some reason she glanced at her watch instead. The room was too dark for her to read the display so she fumbled for the lamp. Switching it on, she noticed in the dim light from the energy saving bulb, that Arkenarten was gone.

She heard the creak of the stairs and the sound of footsteps approaching her bedroom. She pulled the duvet up under her chin as if that might protect her, momentarily freezing with fear. It couldn’t be her gran, not with a broken leg. The footsteps were sure; too steady and moving far too quickly. Should she try to get out of bed and hide? Should she ...? The knock on her half-open door was followed by a voice she vaguely recognised.

‘Are you decent? May I come in?’

‘Y … yes ...  no!’ she shrieked, wondering why Nick wanted to come into her bedroom when it was clearly still the middle of the night.

The ‘no’ was too late. Nick shoved open the door and switched on the light.

‘Good morning,’ he said walking towards the bed and placing a mug of steaming coffee on the bedside table. ‘Milk, no sugar. What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘You scared me half to death! What are you doing here?’

‘Apart from bringing you coffee, you mean? I told you I’d call in this morning. Did you sleep well? You look tired. It’s early so you can go back to sleep for an hour or so if you want. I’m taking Nicodemus for a walk but I’ll pop back before I go in to work.’

‘Are ... are you always this ... jolly in the morning?’ Carole asked, feeling rather irritated not just for being woken up at what she was sure was an ungodly hour but also because he had said that she looked tired.

‘Sorry. Bad night?’

‘Short night. What time is it anyway?’

‘Five-thirty,’ he said, grinning broadly.

‘Five-thirty! Good grief! Do you usually wake people up at this time of night?’

‘It’s morning. And most of the people I know are usually wide awake by now. Mitsy was awake long before I arrived. She called me and asked me to bring a few things round.’

‘What do you mean, Gran called you?’

Nick gave her a curious look but the grin was still firmly in place. ‘I’m not sure I can give you a better explanation other than she picked up the phone and dialled my number.’

‘Very funny,’ Carole said, running a hand through her hair and getting it caught in a tangle. Damn, she thought. She could just imagine what her hair looked like this morning and for some absurd reason, she found herself wishing Nick hadn’t been able to see her in such a dishevelled state. Which brought her to another thought; one she voiced this time. ‘How did you get in? I’m certain I locked the door last night.’

‘You did. I have a key.’

‘You have a ...? Why doesn’t that surprise me as much as it should? Did Gran give it to you?’

He tipped his head to one side and seemed to study her face for a second. ‘No, I stole it when she wasn’t looking.’

‘There’s no need for sarcasm.’ Carole shifted her position but still clung to the duvet as if it afforded some protection from his dark, penetrating eyes.

‘Then don’t ask foolish questions. Drink your coffee before it gets cold.’

‘Don’t tell me what to do! But ... thank you for making it.’

‘My pleasure. It’s a lovely morning,’ he said, strolling across to the window and pulling back the curtains a fraction to reveal an almost completely black sky scattered with rhinestone-like twinkling stars.

BOOK: Carole Singer's Christmas
9.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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