and pick up the sleigh tomorrow in the four-wheel drive.’
‘Great. I can get my hair cut at the same time.’
‘Whatever you want, Annie,’ he replied, and meant it. ‘Now, shall we get out of here and pick up some food? Dan? Chinese?’
‘Well?’ Annie asked, giving a twirl so that George, who’d been waiting for her in a coffee shop opposite the hairdresser, could fully appreciate the stylish elfin cut that now framed her face. ‘What do you think?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ he replied. ‘The question is, are you happy?’
‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘I love it. Even better, no one in there even suggested I looked like…anyone else.’
‘A result, then. Although when you reappear in public sporting your new look, they might just wonder.’
‘They might wonder, but I’ve got the pictures to prove I’m in Bab el Sama,’ she said, indicating a newspaper left by one of the cafe’s patrons. ‘Actually, that’s the one downside. Poor Lydia doesn’t get a choice in the matter. She’s going to have to have her hair cut whether she wants to or not.’
‘It goes with the job, but if it worries you buy her a wig for Christmas,’ he suggested.
‘You’re not just a pretty face,’ she said, slipping her arm in his. ‘Now, let’s take a look at this Christmas market.’
‘Really? What happened to hating Christmas?’
‘Not this Christmas,’ she said as they wandered amongst the little stalls decorated with lights and fake snow, admiring the handmade gifts and decorations. ‘The new memories I’ve made will make this a Christmas I will always cherish.’
‘That makes two of us,’ he said.
They drank gingerbread lattes to warm themselves, tasted tiny samples of every kind of food, bought some of it, then stopped at a stall selling silly seasonal headgear.
‘I have to have one of those,’ Annie said and George picked up an angel headband which he settled carefully on her head.
‘Uh-uh. The angel is on holiday.’ She pulled it off and replaced it with one bearing sprigs of mistletoe that lit up and flashed enticingly. ‘Let’s give this one a test run,’ she teased, closing her eyes and tilting her face to invite a kiss.
His cold lips barely brushed her cheek and, about to pull it off, ask the stallholder if he had something a little more effective, something in George’s eyes stopped her. Not the warning to behave that she anticipated, but the mute appeal of a man for whom one more kiss would be one too many. An admission that while he’d walked away from temptation it had not been easy. That he was on a knife-edge.
‘Perfect!’ she exclaimed brightly as she turned swiftly away to check the rest of the stall. ‘This for you, I think,’ she said, choosing a Santa hat. She wanted to put it on him, just as he’d put on the angel headband. Pull it down over his ears, cradle his dear face, kiss him so thoroughly that he’d fall.
Yesterday she might have done. Yesterday he’d been this sexy, gorgeous man who’d turned her on, lit her up like the Christmas tree in the square. Today, with one look, she knew that one kiss was never going to be enough. Understood what he’d known instinctively. That walking away after anything more would tear her in two.
So she simply handed him the hat and left him to pay for it, stepping quickly away to look at a stall selling handmade jewellery. Giving them both space to take a breath, put back the smiles, continue as if the world hadn’t just shifted on its axis.
She chose a pair of pretty snowman earrings for Xandra, a snowflake brooch for Hetty, a holly tie-tack for George’s father and had them put in little gift bags. Just something to thank them for accepting her as she was-no trappings, just ordinary Annie.
She didn’t buy anything for George.
She’d already given him her heart.
‘All done?’ he asked, joining her, and she nodded but, as they were leaving, she spotted the same angels that had been on sale at the Christmas tree farm and stopped. ‘I have to have one of those,’ she said.
‘You’re really getting into the Christmas thing,’ he said, taking the bag while she paid for the angel.
She shook her head. ‘It’s for the tree at King’s Lacey. A discordant note of simplicity amongst the ornate designer perfection to remind me…’ She faltered and, when he didn’t press her, she said, ‘Let’s go home.’
George gave the reindeer a final tug to test the fixing, making sure that it was secure.
‘Switch it on,’ he called down. ‘Let’s see if it works.’ He was leaving it as long as possible before he was forced to climb down. He felt safer up here on the roof, as far from Annie as he could get.
He’d known a week would be hard, he just hadn’t realised how hard. How hard he’d fallen.
He’d never believed in love at first sight and yet from the first moment he’d set eyes on her it had been there, a magnetic pull. Each day, hour, minute he spent in her company was drawing him closer to her. And the nearer he got, the harder it was going to be to break away.
She understood, he knew. Had been careful to keep her distance since that moment at the market when she’d lifted her face for a kiss-he’d kissed her before without invitation, after all-and he hadn’t been able to do it. Not kiss her and let her go.
She’d urged him to get involved with the renovation of Xandra’s car, build on the new start they’d made-not that he’d needed much encouragement. The moment when she’d called him ‘Dad’ had been a turning point. There was a long way to go, but he was here for the long haul and he’d spent a lot of time on the phone to Chicago, reorganising his life. But that had still left a lot of time to be together.
Time when she got into trouble trying to cook and needed a taster and he’d stayed to help.
Time around the table when, even when they weren’t alone, somehow there was a silent connection, something that grew stronger each day.
Time for quiet moments by the fire when his mother and Xandra were at the hospital. Not saying much. Not touching. Just looking up and seeing her curled up in the chair opposite. Being together.
Perfect moments that had felt like coming home.
‘Xandra should do the official switch on,’ she called back. ‘It was all her idea.’
‘This is just a test run. She can do it properly later, when it’s dark.’
‘Okay…’ She put her hand on the switch, then said, ‘It gives me great pleasure to light up the Saxon family home this Christmas. God bless it and all who live in it.’
She threw the switch and the lights came on, twinkling faintly in the bright winter sunlight.
‘It’s going to look fabulous when it gets dark,’ Annie said, shading her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘You’ve done an amazing job with Santa. He looks as if he’s just touched down on the roof.’
There was no putting it off and he climbed down the scaffold tower. ‘I suspect I’ve broken at least half a dozen town planning laws,’ he said. ‘It’ll be a distraction for passing motorists and in all probability an air traffic hazard. And, as for cheering up my father when he gets home, he’ll undoubtedly have a relapse at the prospect of the electricity bill when he sees it.’
‘Phooey.’
He looked at her. ‘Phooey? What kind of language is that for the daughter of a marquess?’
‘Completely inappropriate,’ she admitted, looking right back at him, and they both knew that he was reminding her that time was running out. ‘Annie Rowland, on the other hand, can say phooey as much as she wants. So… Phooey,’ she said, clinging to these final hours. Then, turning back to the house, ‘Besides, you won’t be able to see it from the road. Well, apart from Santa up there on the roof. And the rest of the lights are energy efficient, so a very merry eco-friendly Christmas to you.’
‘I’ll bet you don’t have one of those on the roof of your stately home,’ he said a touch desperately. Reminding himself that she wasn’t Annie Rowland, that this was a little fantasy she was living. When the metaphorical clock struck midnight she would turn back into Lady Rose and drive off in a limo with chauffeur and bodyguard in attendance, return to the waiting Viscount and the life she was born to.
‘They did have another one in the shop,’ she said, turning those stunning blue eyes on him. ‘Do you think they’d deliver it to King’s Lacey?’
‘If you were prepared to pay the carriage, I imagine they’d deliver it to the moon, but what would your grandfather say?’
‘I’ve no idea, but the estate children would love it. In fact, I might see if I can hire a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer sleigh ride for the Christmas party.’
‘You have a party?’
