Her Festive Flirtation. Therese Beharrie
and she realised it was one of the seats in the waiting room. Because when he’d moved closer to her she’d moved back.
Stay.
She straightened. ‘Noah—’
‘Let me speak,’ he interrupted, and the tone of his voice—seductive, commanding—silenced her. ‘It’s been a difficult night. We’re both exhausted, and it’s going to take more energy than either of us has to find you a hotel. I’m not leaving you alone to arrange all this,’ he said when she opened her mouth. ‘And I’m not even mentioning clean clothes, proper toiletries, a warm meal. Stay with me.’
‘What do I tell my family?’
‘Whatever you like. It’s the easiest option,’ he said with a smile, as if he knew she was already starting to formulate the lie she was going to tell them. ‘You’d do the same thing for me, Ava. We’re family, too.’
She nearly laughed. ‘I haven’t seen you in seven years, Noah.’
‘Doesn’t change anything.’ He paused. ‘I’ve only seen Jaden three times during those seven years. All three times it was because he’d come to see me. Because he considered me to be family.’
‘You’re his best friend.’
‘Family,’ he said firmly. ‘Friends come and go. And I went. If we weren’t family I wouldn’t be back here at Christmas, preparing to be best man at your brother’s wedding.’
‘You’re...stubborn,’ she said, when defeat washed over her.
‘I like to think of it as persistent.’
‘Well, you better hope persistence will help us if Jaden ever discovers the truth about the lie I’m about to tell him and our parents.’
‘Noah, you know I appreciate you offering me a place to stay, but—’ Ava broke off, wondering how to tell him. But then she remembered that he already knew she was honest. ‘But it looks like Father Christmas and the elves threw up in here.’
Noah chuckled. ‘That’s not a bad description, actually.’
He stood next to her and she held her breath, as if somehow it would make her less aware of him.
‘I had a company come in and decorate for Christmas before I got here. They got a bit...carried away.’
She took in the tinsel that hung on every flat surface, the Christmas stockings that accompanied it. The Christmas lights that were draped around pieces of furniture that should not have lights around them. And, of course, the gigantic Christmas tree next to the fireplace.
‘I think that’s an understatement.’
‘Probably.’
He took the handbag and coat that been draped over her shoulder and arm respectively, and hung them on a coat rack she hadn’t noticed.
‘I’ve been meaning to do something to make it less...this—’ he nodded his head at the decorations ‘—but I haven’t had the time.’
‘Christmas season is fire season in Cape Town.’
‘Yeah. And this season’s been particularly bad. Hence the fact that I—a mere volunteer—have been fighting fires for pretty much the entire two weeks since I’ve been here.’
She took a seat at the counter in his kitchen, accepting the glass of water he offered her. ‘Is that why I didn’t even know you were back here?’
‘I told Jaden. It must have slipped his mind.’
‘Must have,’ she said softly.
But she didn’t think that was it. Jaden hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with her since he and his fiancée had announced that their wedding would be at the same time of year hers had been, almost one year later to the day. In fact, he was avoiding her. More so since Leela had asked her to be a bridesmaid.
So she would put down Jaden’s neglect in telling her Noah was back to that, and not to the fact that he hadn’t wanted her to know. Things had moved on since Jaden had caught them kissing that one time. It probably had nothing to do with the anger he’d felt towards both of them back then.
Probably.
‘You okay?’
She looked up to see Noah’s eyes steady on her. ‘Perfect. This place is amazing.’
She looked around at the light green walls, the large windows that offered an incredible view of the mountains and the hills, the stone-coloured furniture. She took in the marble countertops, the sleek, top-of-the-line appliances, the white and yellow palette that brightened the kitchen.
And then her eyes rested on the sexy man who looked so at home in all of it. And although her heart did unwanted cartwheels in her chest, she forced calm into her voice.
‘I mean, what I can actually see underneath all this tinsel is amazing.’
‘Oh, ha-ha.’
She grinned. ‘So, how about you show me to the shower, Mr Festive?’
WHEN HE’D STUDIED photography after school it had been because he’d had a passion for it. He’d enjoyed the challenge of seeing things in new ways. In ways others didn’t. He’d created a website to show off his work, and when he’d received that first enquiry to use one of his pictures he’d realised he could use his passion to make money.
Soon his photos had garnered more attention. And then a photo editor for a popular nature magazine had reached out to him about a job in Namibia. And suddenly he’d realised he could use his passion to give in to his wanderlust.
He supposed his surname had given him a push that most twenty-year-olds didn’t get. The Giles name was still synonymous with the media empire his great-great-uncle had created. The empire that had been passed down to his grandfather, when his great-great-uncle had died childless, and then down to his father.
Having an empire and money behind him had meant he could take only the jobs that interested him. That he’d been able to use his skill and passion for jobs that meant something to the world. That he’d been able to use the money he didn’t need to invest in properties back home in South Africa and wherever else his heart desired.
All while avoiding the pitfalls of settling down. The trap he’d seen his father fall into over and over again since his mother had died. But he couldn’t deny that it felt good to have a place of his own. Not somewhere he just stayed, but somewhere he lived.
He’d only been back in Cape Town for a fortnight, but it was a source of pride for him. And never more than at this moment, as he showed Ava to his spare bedroom.
When she’d disappeared into the bathroom he went to his own room and put some of the spare clothing he had there in hers. And then he went back to the kitchen, to start on the meal he’d promised her. Which, he thought even before he reached the kitchen, was a stupid idea. On his best days he could manage to fry an egg. And it would usually end up deformed. Edible, but deformed.
It would definitely not be the kind of warm meal he’d promised Ava, so he called the twenty-four-hour deli up the road. He was almost out through the door to go and fetch the food, too, before he realised he looked like crap. He’d changed out of his firefighter’s uniform before going to the hospital, but he was still sweaty and grimy. And fairly certain he would not have wanted to meet himself, let alone hand over food to someone looking like he did at that moment.
He went to his room, threw off his clothes and headed to the shower. He heaved a sigh when the water hit his body. It kneaded muscles he hadn’t realised were tight and painful. It also reminded him that he’d stuffed a cat into his jacket and