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“Very,” he said drily and watched as color washed her cheeks.
She tried to wiggle her fingers free but he tightened his hold. “There are the horses,” he said to distract her.
Followed by the pair of Labradors, they headed for a five-barred gate set in the fence. A rugged-up chestnut came toward them, whickering in greeting, followed by a big bay.
The chestnut nuzzled delicately at Miranda’s gloves and she laughed. “This one’s gorgeous. What are their names?”
The melancholy that had hung over her yesterday had lifted. Her skin was bright and clear, and a slight flush lay on her cheeks. God, but this woman was gorgeous. His chest squeezed tight.
“The chestnut is Red, the bay Cavalier,” he said hastily, before she caught him fawning. “The gray mare at the back is Lady Anne. She’s shy. It may take her a while to come forward.”
“Oh, I feel so bad—I’ve got nothing for them.”
Callum drew a plastic bag from his coat pocket. “Luckily, I came prepared.” He passed her a carrot. Miranda pulled off her glove and tucked it under her other arm. Holding her hand out palm up, she offered the carrot to Red. The chestnut lipped it up.
Cavalier bumped Callum’s elbow and he fed the bay a piece, too.
“Here comes Lady Anne,” he warned. The gray had edged up on the far side of Miranda.
Miranda stretched her arm out and Lady Anne took the offered morsel. Red’s ears went back and the gray mare skittered out of reach with her carrot.
“Not nice, Red,” said Miranda reprovingly.
Too soon the carrots were gone.
“I enjoyed that,” said Miranda.
Her eyes glowed and Callum’s throat grew tight. “At a quieter time, you must come again. We’ll go for a ride.” The words were out before he could stop them.
She looked as surprised by his impulsive offer as he was.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
She hadn’t refused. Callum gave her a broad smile. It gave him a chance to see her again in the New Year, without having to rely on their connection through Adrian. Before she could put her glove back on, Callum snatched her hand. A sizzle of electricity seared him.
“Your fingers are cold.”
“Freezing,” she said cheerfully.
“I’ll warm them.” He held her hand between his and gave them a rub, all too conscious of her long fingers dwarfed between his but strong from molding dough. The short, square nails had been painted with clear varnish. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss over her lips.
They both froze, then broke apart.
Miranda pushed her hair back and Callum stared at her. What was happening? What was her power over him? It was as if he was in the presence of something he’d never felt before—and that he hadn’t seen coming.
Ten
The rest of Christmas Day passed in a rush of laughter and joy. Miranda barely had any time alone with Callum, which only reinforced that her decision—not to ruin the day by dwelling on her problems with Flo and Adrian—had been the right one.
After breakfast the family gathered in the living room to open presents beside the Christmas tree. Miranda was astonished to find she was expected to join the family.
Everyone had brought small gifts for each other. CDs of favorite bands. Books. Aromatherapy lotions. Each carefully chosen. Callum gave her a lacy white apron that made her blush and everyone else giggle, and Miranda was relieved that she’d thought to bring a CD as a gift for him. Thankfully no one had any idea of the significance of his choice.
Her own gift to the family of a selection of small pots of herbs for the kitchen and a huge tin of mouth-watering iced biscuits cut into snowflake shapes was met with cries of delight.
As soon as that was over, Miranda belatedly called Flo and Adrian to wish them a merry Christmas, keeping the conversation deliberately upbeat, then headed for the kitchen. After a hectic, busy morning spent preparing the turkey for the family’s Christmas feast that night and the more time-consuming dishes that would be eaten the next day, Miranda whipped up a light lunch of roasted pumpkin soup with pesto and sour cream stirred through, served with freshly baked rolls on the side. It caused oohs of delight. And Miranda flushed with pleasure when Callum’s father commented, “You picked a winner, Callum.” Her gaze met Callum’s then skittered away under the heat and intensity she read there.
