Well, she’d handled that just beautifully!
“Why the frown?”
She started at the sound of Callum’s voice and discovered he was standing in front of her. Had he overheard her conversation? She hoped not.
She forced a smile. “Nothing much.”
“You were on the phone. Trouble? Is it your mother again?”
At least Callum hadn’t homed in on Adrian. “A little.”
“She takes advantage of you.” Callum held her gaze.
“And you,” she said.
“And me,” he conceded. “We’re not doing her any favors. By always fixing her problems, we’ve allowed her to become totally irresponsible.”
Miranda had reached that conclusion herself, but it still stung to hear it from Callum. It took sheer willpower to stop herself from defending Flo.
“I suppose I should butt out,” he said when she didn’t answer.
“No, you’re quite right. I need to stand up to her.”
There was sympathy in his eyes. “It won’t be easy.”
That was an understatement. Flo was going to rail against it, Miranda suspected. “No, it won’t be easy. And I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Sometimes one has to be cruel to be kind,” said Callum.
And Miranda suspected he was thinking not of Flo-but Petra.
After seeing the last of the guests off, Callum and his brothers trooped back into the house with his parents. Gordon had gone up to his room already.
His mother had been thrilled by the unexpected party and was still looking overwhelmed. “I should check on-”
“The kitchen is fine,” his father said firmly. “There are four women taking care of it, and one is a trained chef.”
“Then I suppose we can go to bed, then.”
Callum pecked his mother good-night on the cheek, and wasn’t surprised when his father quickly followed her up the stairs. He had a feeling his father was going to reap the benefits of the celebration.
A lull fell over the big house. Anna, Petra and Lindsey were helping Miranda tidy up, and his brothers had gone out to the stables to feed and rug up the horses, because Old Jim had gone home to spend the day with his even more elderly mother.
So Callum made his way to the kitchen to find Miranda. There had been worry in her eyes earlier-he wanted to check that she was okay. And he wanted to make sure that putting her into close proximity with Petra hadn’t made her too uncomfortable. She clearly didn’t like the deceit-despite his explanation that by his dating another woman, Gordon would forget all thoughts of a match between him and Petra.
Or at least that’s what he told himself right up until the moment he reached the kitchen and halted in the doorway.
She’d pulled a long double-breasted white chef’s jacket on over the red touch-me dress. He supposed he should be grateful that she wasn’t wearing the sexy apron he’d given her…
Seeing her rubbing down the black granite bench tops and steel-fronted appliances reminded him of the night in his town house and involuntarily his body hardened.
Even wearing that jacket, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever known.
He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and glanced around. There was no sign of Petra-or his brothers’ girlfriends-so he sauntered forward. “Hey, Cinderella, looks like the elves have been busy.”
“You’re mixing Christmas with fairy tales.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She thought for a moment. “Nothing.”
“Where are Petra, Lindsey and Anna?” he asked.
“Probably in the bath by now-where all good princesses should be.” She smiled at him-and a blast of heat spread through him to settle low in his belly, building mercilessly on the arousal he already felt. “I think they’re both a bit shell-shocked by how tired you can get just from standing on your feet all day. I’m used to it,” she added quickly.
“Come and sit with me-I might even rub your poor abused feet.” He shot her a smoldering look from under heavy eyelids and watched with satisfaction as she colored.
Freeing his hands from his pockets, Callum led an unusually pliant Miranda into the sitting room, where flames licked at the logs in the grate and the lights of the Christmas tree twinkled.
He paused to fill up two glasses with tawny port and crossed to where she’d sunk down on the squashy couch with her feet tucked under her, the folds of the dress draped around her.
She looked so right here in his family home. His family liked her, he could tell. By the way Fraser teased her. By the way his mother had almost burst into tears when Miranda had given her the brandy snaps.
She fitted in.
He’d almost forgotten the deception of her accompanying him as a “fake” date. It felt so real.
When he’d decided weeks ago to help her attain her dream-and more financial independence-it had been so he could salve his conscience. He hadn’t expected the hunger that ate him every time he looked at her. He hadn’t expected to like her. And he certainly hadn’t expected his family to be so charmed by her.
When had his connection to her started to become so…emotional?
“What is it?” Miranda had taken a sip of the sweet port, but now she examined him standing in front of her, his legs apart, and male enough to make her forget all about the rich, nutty flavor of the liqueur that had delighted her only seconds earlier.
Callum wore a strange, bemused expression. The intensity in his eyes unfurled a restlessness deep within her.
He shook his head and laughed. “I think I’m going crazy.”
“You? Crazy?” She raised an eyebrow. “Never.”
But he didn’t laugh as she’d intended. Instead he stared at her until she shifted under that intimidating gaze.
“What is it that makes me forget about everything else when you’re around?”
“Now it’s
“Maybe not.” He crossed to a wall unit, where he pulled a drawer open and extracted a box. “You said once that your only weakness is dark chocolate.”
Her gaze lingered on Callum’s broad shoulders and trailed down to the long legs clad in dark trousers. Chocolate was no longer her only weakness…
“I couldn’t eat another thing,” she protested as he came toward her brandishing a bar of Lindt.
“Indulge me.” He tore the wrapper off. “Have you ever tasted dark chocolate and port together?”
Wordlessly, she shook her head.
“Then you haven’t lived.”
His voice was deep and throaty, and Miranda’s pulse went through the roof.
“Open your mouth.”
She never considered not obeying. Her lips parted. He placed a morsel on her tongue and the chocolate melted in her mouth. It tasted sublime.
“Now the port.”
He held the glass for her, and Miranda set her lips to the rim. Their eyes locked. He tipped the glass ever so slightly. The liquid mingled in her mouth with the rich sweet and flavor exploded on her tongue.
Callum set the glass down, and when he leaned forward to stroke her hair back from her face with gentle hands, her heart dropped.
“It’s been way too long since I’ve kissed you, Miranda.”
The moment had finally arrived. He’d brushed her lips too briefly yesterday morning during their walk, leaving her hungering for more. All day yesterday and today she’d waited, tension winding up within her.
