Christmas Miracle: Their Christmas Family Miracle. Shirley Jump
‘Then just say yes, and let me do it,’ he said gruffly, then tilted his head and gave her a wry look. ‘I don’t suppose I’m allowed a glass of wine?’
‘Of course you are.’
‘You wouldn’t let me have the whisky.’
She gave a little laugh, swallowing down the tears and shaking her head. ‘That was because of the painkillers. I thought you should drink water, especially as you’d been flying. But—sure, you can have a glass of wine.’
‘Will you join me?’
‘I thought you wanted to be alone?’ she said softly, and he smiled again, a little crookedly.
‘Amelia, just open the wine. There’s a gluggable Aussie Shiraz in the wine rack in the side of the island unit, and the glasses are in the cupboard next to the Aga.’
‘Corkscrew?’
‘It’s a screwtop.’
‘Right.’ She found the wine, found the glasses, poured his and a small one for herself and perched a little warily opposite him. ‘How’s the omelette?’
‘Good. Just right. What herbs did you use? Are they from the garden?’
‘Yes. Thyme and sage. And I found some pancetta—I hope it was OK to use it.’
‘Of course. It’s really tasty. Thanks.’
He turned his attention back to his food, and then pushed his plate away with a sigh when it was scraped clean. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any pud?’
She chuckled. ‘A budget yogurt?’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Maybe not. There might be some ice cream in the freezer—top drawer.’
There was. Luxury Belgian chocolate that made her mouth water. ‘This one?’ she offered, and he nodded.
‘Brilliant. Will you join me?’
She gave in to the temptation because her omelette had only been tiny—elastic eggs, to make sure he had enough so she didn’t fall at the first hurdle—and she was still hungry. She dished up and took it through, feeling a pang of guilt because she could feed her children for a day on the cost of that ice cream and in the good old days it had been their favourite—
‘Stop it. We’ll get some for the children tomorrow,’ he chided, reading her mind with uncanny accuracy, and she laughed and sat down.
‘How did you know?’
His mouth quirked. ‘Your face is like an open book—every flicker of guilt registers on it. Stop beating yourself up, Amelia, and tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?’
She tried to smile, but it felt pretty pathetic, really. ‘Nothing at the moment. I was working freelance as a technical translator for a firm that went into liquidation. They owed me for three months’ work.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Indeed. And David had just run off to Thailand with the receivers in hot pursuit after yet another failed business venture—’
‘David?’
‘My ex-husband. Self-styled entrepreneur and master of delusion, absent father of my children and what Kate describes as a waste of a good skin. He’d already declined to pay the maintenance when I left him for the second time when I was pregnant with Thomas, so I’d already had to find a way to survive for over a year while I waited for the courts to tell him to pay up. And then I lost my job, David wasn’t in a position to help by then even if he’d chosen to, and my landlord wanted out of the property business so the moment I couldn’t pay my overdue rent on the date he’d set, he asked me to leave. As in, “I want you out by the morning”.’
Jake winced. ‘So you went to your sister.’
‘Yes. We moved in on the tenth of December—and it lasted less than two weeks.’ She laughed softly and wrinkled her nose. ‘You know what they say about guests being like fish—they go off after three days. So twelve wasn’t bad. And the dog does smell.’
‘So why don’t you bath him?’
‘Because they wouldn’t let me. Not in their pristine house. I would have had to take him to the groomer, which I couldn’t afford, or do it outside under the hose.’
‘In December?’ he said with a frown.
She smiled wryly, remembering Andy’s blank incomprehension. ‘Quite. So he still smells, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s ridiculous. Heavens, he’s only tiny. Shove him in the sink and dry him by the fire.’
‘Really?’ She put down her ice cream spoon and sat back, staring at him in amazement. ‘You’re telling me I could bath him in your lovely kitchen?’
‘Why not? Or you could use the utility room. Wherever. It doesn’t matter, does it? He’s only a dog. I can think of worse things. You’re all right, aren’t you, mate?’ he said softly, turning his head and looking at the hearth where Rufus was lying as close to the woodburner as the fireguard would let him. He thumped his tail on the floor, his eyes fixed on Jake as if he was afraid that any minute now he’d be told to move.
But apparently not. Jake liked dogs—and thought it was fine to wash him in the kitchen sink. She stood up and took their bowls through to the kitchen, using the excuse to get away because her eyes were filling again and threatening to overflow and embarrass her. She put all the plates into the dishwasher and straightened up and took a nice steadying breath.
Rufus was at her feet, his tail waving, his eyes hopeful.
She had to squash the urge to hug him. ‘Do you think I’m going to give you something? You’ve had supper,’ she told him firmly. ‘Don’t beg.’
His tail drooped and he trotted back to Jake and sat beside him, staring up into his eyes and making him laugh.
‘He’s not looking convinced.’
‘Don’t you dare give him anything. He’s not allowed to beg, and he’s on a special diet.’
‘I don’t doubt it. I bet he costs more to run than all the rest of you put together.’
She laughed and shook her head. ‘You’d better believe it. But he’s worth every penny. He’s been brilliant.’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but I did promise the children I’d read to them, and I need to change Thomas’s nappy and put him into pyjamas.’
He nodded. ‘That’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll see you later. In fact, I might just go to bed.’
‘Can I get you anything else?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you in the morning. If you get a minute before then, you could dream up a shopping list. And thank you for my supper, by the way, it was lovely.’
She felt the cold, dead place around her heart warm a little, and she smiled. ‘My pleasure,’ she said, and took herself upstairs before she fell any further under his spell, because she’d discovered during the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of ice cream that Jake Forrester, when it suited him, could be very, very charming indeed.
And that scared the living daylights out of her.
His bags were missing.
The cabbie had stacked them by the front door, and they were gone. Kate, he thought. She’d been over while he was sleeping earlier, he knew that, and he realised she must have taken them up to his room. Unless Amelia had done it?
Whatever, he needed to go to bed. Lying on the sofa resting for an hour was all very well, but he needed more than that. And it was already after ten. He’d sat and had another glass of wine in front of the fire in the breakfast room, with Rufus keeping him company and creeping gradually