Snowy Christmas (5 page)

Marcus blew out a breath. "I hate having to
rent out my house like this. I feel invaded."

Although the place was huge and he had a
private apartment away from the area open to the public, Emily
could understand how he felt. This was his family home, and when
his parents were alive, they'd lived in the whole house. "Why don't
you stop doing it then?"

He gave a sad laugh. "The upkeep of Rosemoor
Hall is astronomical, and my accountant tells me it needs to pay
for itself. Anyway, let's not dwell on that subject. How about we
celebrate your first week as housekeeper? I'll take you out to
dinner."

It would be nice to spend some time with
Marcus after seeing so little of him this week, but Emily was weary
after the busy day and didn't want to go out. "I have a better
idea. Why don't you let me cook you dinner?"

"No. You've been working all day.
I'll
cook
you
dinner."

"You'll cook?" Emily eyed him curiously. Was
he serious?

"It won't be very exciting," he said,
obviously noticing her skeptical expression, and she immediately
felt ungrateful.

"I'm sure anything you cook will be
lovely."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far. But
I'll cook you my favorite dinner I make for myself."

"Will you give me a clue what it is?"

"Nope. It'll be a surprise. See you at my
apartment at seven."

Once Emily had finished up, she took Snow
White outside. That done, she changed out of her uniform of navy
skirt, white blouse, and navy jacket with the Rosemoor crest on the
breast pocket, and put on comfortable leggings and a thick
sweater.

With Snowy trotting at her heels, she walked
up the grand staircase to the next floor and along the corridor to
the shiny black door with a large Private sign on it, the door to
Marcus's apartment, and the only part of Rosemoor Hall she hadn't
yet seen.

When she knocked, she heard Peggy bark and
jump at the other side of the door. A few moments later, Marcus
answered with a spatula in his hand.

"You look very domesticated," she said.

"Yes. I own kitchen utensils and know how to
use them."

She laughed at his mischievous tone. She got
along so well with Marcus. Although they came from very different
backgrounds, they just clicked.

She followed him along the wide private
corridor, peeking in open doors, and caught a glimpse of a
luxurious living area with white leather sofas, and a dining room.
He led her into a large contemporary kitchen with sparkly white
marble surfaces and stainless steel appliances. The decor here was
a far cry from the carefully maintained historic rooms
downstairs.

Toast popped up out of a toaster. He put the
slices on a plate and slathered them with Rosemoor goat butter, and
then prodded the scrambled eggs in the pan on the stove.

"Scrambled eggs on toast," Emily said, trying
to keep a straight face.

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. I'm far more
sophisticated than that." He gave her a grin. "Scrambled eggs on
toast topped with smoked salmon."

"Oh my. Completely different then," she
joked, playing along. Happiness bubbled inside her as she stepped
up beside him to butter some more toast when it popped up, and he
started serving the eggs.

"Note the butter, fresh from the Rosemoor
Dairy, and the eggs are also from Rosemoor Farm, all organic."

"I'm impressed," she said. "Where does the
smoked salmon come from?"

"The local supermarket," he said.

For some reason that seemed hilarious and
they both burst out laughing, making the dogs bark and jump around.
The animals weren't sure what they were celebrating, but were eager
to join in the fun.

Marcus and Emily sat at the marble island in
the kitchen on trendy tall stools upholstered with white leather,
and sipped white wine from crystal glasses that sparkled like
diamonds in the light from the recessed spotlights. His apartment
had an ambience of privilege like an exclusive restaurant. Emily
had worked in such places but never eaten there, yet she felt
relaxed here with Marcus.

She had never enjoyed scrambled eggs on toast
as much. Marcus was friendly and easy to get along with. Emily
found herself chatting as if he were an old friend.

"So, how long have you worked as a chef?"
Marcus asked.

"Just over ten years." Emily ran a hand
through her hair as she visualized all the places she'd worked. "I
started at the bottom and worked my way up."

"Do you have a favorite place you've
worked?"

She laughed. "A cruise liner."

Marcus's eyebrows rose. "Sounds
interesting."

"It was. I wish I'd never left. It was hard
work, but the people I worked with were great, and the ship cruised
all over the place, Norway, Iceland, the Med, the Caribbean. I had
a chance to visit loads of places."

"So, why
did
you move on?"

Without intending to, she'd led Marcus right
to the subject she wanted to avoid. As she tried to think of a way
to change the topic, she realized the prospect of confiding in him
didn't scare her; in fact, it would be a relief to talk about what
had happened. Marcus was a nice guy. He wouldn't judge her.

"One of the regular stops on the
Mediterranean cruise itinerary was Malaga. I met a Spanish guy
there who ran his own restaurant and needed a chef. We sort of got
romantically involved as well."

"So you worked for him?"

"I thought we were partners."

Marcus nodded, obviously understanding the
relationship had not turned out as she expected. "As you're back
here, I'm guessing it didn't work out."

Emily took a large gulp of wine to wash away
the familiar wave of anger at herself for being so stupid and
gullible. "That's an understatement," she said. "I don't know if he
ever had feelings for me, or if he just romanced me so I'd work for
nothing." And loan him money. But she didn't want to say that. It
was too embarrassing.

Marcus reached across the shiny white marble
surface and settled his large, warm hand over hers and squeezed.
"I'm sorry. I know how you feel. All you can do is draw a line
under it and give yourself a fresh start."

Emily nodded. She wanted to do that, but
until she paid off her credit card debt, she could never move
on.

• • •

Under the spotlights, Emily's eyes were mossy green.
Marcus rested his chin in his hand as he listened to the soft
modulation of her voice. The slight burr of the local accent was
charming. Her chestnut-colored hair hung loose around her
shoulders, and the only makeup she wore was the black on her
lashes.

She was softly spoken, casually dressed, and
unpretentious—the polar opposite of his ex-wife. He'd grown to hate
the way Gabriella obsessed about her appearance, as though the
world would end if someone saw her without her makeup on. Even he
rarely saw her naked face; she even came to bed wearing makeup.

Gabriella's beauty had attracted him from the
start, the spell of her pretty face blinding him to her faults.
He'd learned a salutary lesson from that: Don't judge a woman by
her appearance. Emily might not be a candidate for Miss Universe,
but he didn't care if her nose was a little too big. There was
something enchanting about the way she laughed, and her slight
overbite was rather sexy.

"Sorry you had such a bad experience in
Spain. Perhaps you should stick to Englishmen." He laughed,
wondering if that sounded like a come-on, and not worried if it
did. What she needed was a boost to her confidence to make her feel
good about herself again.

Marcus joked and flirted, taking pleasure in
cheering her up. He didn't remember laughing so much on a date, not
that
this
was a date, of course. She was fast becoming a
friend, though. A good arrangement, since they lived in the same
place and would see a lot of each other.

He touched her hand again playfully, enjoying
the buzz of sensation up his arm at the contact. While he tried to
cheer her up, he was making himself feel better too.

"Shall I give you the guided tour?" He stood
and gestured for her to follow as he led her into the sitting room,
a long room with wonderful views over the countryside to Rosemoor
Village in the distance.

"I didn't expect your apartment to be so
modern."

"Not my doing. I'd have kept it more in
character with the house. My ex-wife was responsible for
redecorating. It's a good thing my mother didn't live to see the
result, or we'd have been banished."

Marcus did his best to keep the mood light,
yet he was increasingly aware of Emily's slender form as she walked
beside him. He stepped close to catch the sweet fragrance of her
hair, which smelled like vanilla and cherries. As he did, he placed
a guiding hand on her back.

He'd touched her casually before and not
given it any thought. Now the accidental brush of their arms as
they passed through a doorway completely dominated his senses.

"Marcus," she said, obviously not for the
first time. He dragged his thoughts back from the warm rush of
attraction that had overtaken his mind.

"Sorry," he said with a smile. "Suddenly
thought of something I need to do later."

"Do you want to make yourself a note so you
don't forget?"

"Good idea." He dug his phone out of his
pocket, opened the notes app, and typed in *Emily * Emily * Emily*,
then returned to the home screen quickly in case she noticed,
wondering if he had taken leave of his senses.

During his meeting with his stockbroker in
London this week, thoughts of Emily had kept creeping into his
mind. They were the strangest random things like how she walked
with a little bounce in her step when she was out with Snow White,
and how she chewed her lip when she was thinking.

"I was saying you haven't had your apartment
cleaned since I started work. I have two new maids starting next
week, but I can go over your apartment myself tomorrow, if you
like."

Marcus couldn't care less if his apartment
was cleaned a few days late. As soon as it was done, Peggy made it
dirty again anyway. But he liked the idea of having Emily here with
him, even if she was only pushing a vacuum around.

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he said.

She shrugged. "I'll clean in the morning
while you're at church, and in the afternoon, I'll start dinner.
You did say I could cook for you tomorrow night? I'm itching to
cook something nice again."

"Sounds perfect to me." He could get used to
having Emily around.

Emily stepped out into the crisp Sunday morning, the
cold nipping at her cheeks. She pushed her hands in her pockets and
glanced around for Marcus. He called from the high path that ran
around the elevated ground above the lawn.

"Come on, Snowy." Emily jogged across the
grass and up the mossy stone steps to join him. He stood admiring
the view over the lake.

"We have moorhens and mallards wintering on
the lake. We'll have lots of fluffy ducklings in the spring," he
said. As they walked, a heron flew over, its huge wings flapping
slowly. "Off to raid the lake of its fish again," Marcus said
ruefully.

She loved walking with him because he knew so
much about the local area and the countryside. The little birds all
looked alike to her, yet he could identify the different species.
He had bird-feeding stations stocked with suet balls, peanuts,
sunflower seeds, and grain at various points in the garden. Every
day when he walked Peggy, he checked to be sure his gardeners had
restocked the birdseed. It must cost him a fortune.

When they arrived back, Emily fetched a
vacuum cleaner and cleaning supplies from the utility cupboard on
the ground floor and took it up to Marcus's apartment. When he
answered the door, he had already changed into his suit to go to
church.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather come with
me and clean another time?" he asked.

She would love to go with him if it were just
the two of them, but she preferred not to sit in the Bramwell pew
at the front of the church again. Her grandmother said tongues in
the village were already wagging.

"Thanks for asking, but I'd like to stay and
get on with this." She waved a duster.

"Well, Cinderella, you will go to the ball
later then."

When he grinned, a burst of shivery pleasure
passed through her, making her knees weak. She'd told herself not
to fall for Marcus, but her heart had a bad track record when it
came to listening to her head. After only a week, she was halfway
in love with him already. She'd never met a man like him before. On
first acquaintance, he'd seemed a little aloof, but now that she
knew him, he was kind and friendly.

She caught his fragrance, the spicy smell
mixed with fresh air, and had to stifle her sigh of
appreciation.

"So do I look presentable?" He smoothed his
hands down the front of his jacket and checked his cuffs.

"Very stylish."
And absolutely
gorgeous
. To distract herself, she tried to be practical. "Your
hair is sticking up a little, Marcus."

He patted down the wrong side, so Emily
stepped closer to him, reached up, and smoothed the short wayward
strands with her fingertips. She met his deep brown gaze. They were
so close, if she'd risen a little higher on her toes, she could
have kissed him.

A hot pulse of awareness flashed in his eyes
and warmed her body. For a moment she thought he would kiss her,
but he stepped back and cleared his throat. "I'd better be going.
All right if I leave Peggy with you this time?"

Emily struggled to breathe as tingly longing
ran along her limbs and fogged her brain. She couldn't believe the
effect Marcus had on her. She'd never experienced it before.

"I'd love to look after Peggy, if you think
she'll want to stay with me."