Married Under The Mistletoe. Линда Гуднайт
heading for the door. “Some of your family may come round. They often do.”
The comment brought him up short. He still had trouble thinking of the Valentines as family.
“Is Dominic working today?” He’d had little time with his twin since returning to England. Discovering that Dominic had become a part-time employee of the restaurant below added to the appeal of living here. They’d been apart a very long time.
Stephanie glanced at her watch. “He should be in his office about now. I’m sure he’d enjoy a visit.”
And so would Daniel, though he was every bit as eager to begin setting up appointments. The list of contacts in his bag was impressive. With it, his business should be up and running in no time.
His flatmate was halfway out the door when she stopped and turned. “Oh, one more thing, Daniel.”
“Yes?”
Cool aqua eyes assessed him. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long are you planning to be here?”
“Why, Stephanie—” he playfully placed a hand over his heart “—I’m crushed. Already trying to get rid of me?”
“No, no, of course not. I didn’t mean that at all. I was just thinking…”
He knew exactly what she was thinking, but he couldn’t accommodate her. “New businesses take a while to get off the ground. A year. Perhaps longer.” He watched her, hoping to gauge her true reaction, but she gave nothing away. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“That will be…fine,” she said.
Daniel didn’t believe a word of it.
Several hours later, Daniel exited the tube in high spirits, returning to Knightsbridge after a successful afternoon. He’d found a locksmith to cut a new flat key and afterwards had spent an hour chatting up a former university mate about business prospects. All in all, a good beginning.
Above ground, the rain had begun in earnest. Though he’d failed to bring an umbrella, the smell of rain in the air and the feel of it on his skin were a pleasure after years in the African sun. He resisted the childish urge to lift his face and catch the drops on his tongue.
At the back door of the Bella Lucia, he shook himself off to spare the floors a puddle. A kitten, no bigger than his hand, meowed up at him in protest.
“Sorry there, little one.” He scooped the ball of fluff into one hand and slid her inside his jacket while he looked about for a dry place. She snuggled close, a warm, damp ball against his shirt, and turned her motor on. Daniel spotted an overhang and withdrew the kitten from his jacket. She meowed again.
“Hungry?” he asked, crouching down to set her beneath the overhang. Her yellow eyes blinked at him. With a final stroke of the small head, he decided to steal a bite for her later, and then went inside the Bella Lucia to find his brother.
To the right of the wide entry were the lift and a door marked “Storage.” On his left were the offices. Taking a guess, he tapped at the first one and went inside. Dominic sat at a desk, intently staring at a computer screen.
Daniel stood for a moment, observing his brother at work. Fraternal twins, they had once shared similarities, but now, beyond the blue eyes and tall stature, they bore little resemblance. Domestication and long hours in a high-pressure accounting firm had taken a toll on Dominic’s once powerful physique.
“Careful there, brother. You’ll be getting eye strain from all that hard work.”
The balding head lifted with a smile and a brotherly jab. “No chance of that happening to you, now, is there, mate?”
“Not if I can avoid it,” he joked in return. Hard work was all he’d ever known, as Dominic well knew.
A bit wearily, Dominic removed a pair of reading glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “Are you settled in, then? Finding the flat upstairs to your liking?”
Daniel flopped into a chair. “You know I don’t care about the flat. Why didn’t you warn me about my flatmate?”
“Warn you?” Humor glinted on Dominic’s tired face. “About what?”
“That she was young and beautiful. And not nearly as willing to have me move in as John let on.”
A slow smile crept up Dominic’s cheeks. “You always were a sucker for redheads.”
“Getting this business off the ground is my first priority. The flat is just a step in that direction.”
“Then why is Stephanie a problem? Did she try to toss you out?”
“No, nothing like that.” Quite the opposite, actually. “She was polite, accommodating.” She’d put on the pretense of welcome, but her fidgety movements told a different story.
“Then what’s the problem?”
He wasn’t sure how to answer that one. “I make her nervous.”
Dominic guffawed. “Look in the mirror. You make everyone nervous.”
Daniel shoved a hand through his unruly hair. He never could figure out why his appearance concerned people. Just because he didn’t care about the usual conventions of dress or style, people sometimes shied away. Or maybe it was the darkness. Dark skin, dark hair. Bad attitude.
But this wasn’t the feeling he had with Stephanie. “I think the problem is deeper than the way I look.”
“Shave. Get a haircut. See if that helps.”
He’d skip that advice. Unlike his conservative, by-the-book twin, Daniel had never been a suit-and-tie kind of a man. Perhaps that was why he meshed with Africa so well. That, and the fact that Africa needed and appreciated him.
“Is there a boyfriend lurking around to punch my face for moving in with her?”
“I thought you weren’t interested.”
“I’m not dead either.”
Dominic chuckled. “Good. You were starting to worry me.”
“I gave up on love, not on life.”
Dominic knew better than anyone about Daniel’s empty heart.
“Sometimes they’re one and the same.”
The profound statement stirred the old restless longing, the feeling that, no matter how much good he did, life was passing by without him.
“Are you going to annoy me about my nonexistent love-life or tell me about Stephanie Ellison?”
“Well, let’s see.” Dominic gnawed at the earpiece of his glasses, pretending to think. “She doesn’t allow staff to smoke anywhere near the restaurant. Says it projects a bad image to the customers.”
“That’s not exactly the kind of information I meant.”
“None of us know much about her before she came here. She’s a mystery really.”
A mystery. Hmm. Better steer clear of that. He had enough puzzles to solve with the new business. “What kind of manager is she? Demanding? Difficult to work for?”
Though Dominic had only been in this job just over a week, he was good at gathering information, a knack that also made him a good accountant. Most of the time he knew more about a company than the owner.
“Stephanie’s a bit of a workaholic, a real control freak about tidiness,” Dominic said, “but she treats employees well. She gives every appearance of being an excellent manager.”
Daniel heard the subtle hesitation. “What do you mean by ‘gives every appearance’?”
“Nothing really. She’s doing a fine job.” Dominic glanced away, fidgeted with his glasses. He was holding back.
“I know you, Dominic. What