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“I still can’t believe you’re parting with your son over Christmas.”
“The Chadwicks haven’t had him for the holidays—ever. They deserve that.”
“They should’ve told that son of theirs to stay home once he had a baby on the way. If he couldn’t keep out of harm’s way for you, he owed that to his child.”
“That’s enough.” She straightened up and pulled back her shoulders. “Shane was doing what he loved. His work was important to him. I don’t want you ever to say anything like that in front of Ethan.”
Spencer held up his hands. “I wouldn’t do that. Now, come downstairs. They’re getting ready to serve dinner, and you’ll want to see this guest. Trust me.”
She wouldn’t trust her stepfather if he told her it was snowing outside after she’d just been standing in the stuff. She smoothed her hands across the skirt of her dress, flicking a tiny crystal of ice onto the floor, and joined him at the entrance to Ethan’s room.
He closed the door and placed a hand on her bare back. “You’re cold.”
“I feel like I’m coming down with something.” She shrugged off his clammy hand and headed for the curving staircase with Spencer close on her heels.
Did he suspect something?
With her fingertips trailing along the carved bannister, she descended into the warmth and chatter below. She scanned the room, her gaze skimming over glittering jewels and black bow ties. She didn’t see any special guest—just a bunch of strangers with checkbooks.
Looking back at Spencer, she asked, “Where’s this special guest?”
“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Claire.” He drummed his fingers along her shoulder. “He told us everything.”
A knot twisted in her stomach. What kind of game was her stepfather playing this time?
From the step above her, Spencer leveled a finger toward the foyer. “There he is.”
Claire’s eyes darted among the faces of the strange men gathered in the foyer shedding coats, and then her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man unwinding a red scarf from his neck.
Had he seen enough of her on the balcony to identify her?
He must’ve felt her stare burning into him because at that moment, he glanced up, his eyes meeting hers and his mouth twisting into a half smile.
Spencer nudged her from behind. “Don’t be shy now that the cat’s out of the bag. Go greet your fiancé.”
* * *
CLAIRE CHADWICK LOOKED like a ghost at the bottom of the staircase, her pale skin, blond hair and long, sparkling silver dress blending together to form a glittering cloud. Only her eyes, big, round and dark, stood out in relief.
Lola hadn’t exaggerated her friend’s beauty, but Claire didn’t have the look of a woman greeting her fiancé for the holidays. Of course, what did he expect of a novice? He’d have to take the reins here.
He dropped his scarf on top of his overcoat, resting in a maid’s arms, and took the ticket from her fingers. Nudging his bag on the floor with the toe of his dress shoe, he asked, “Could you please check this, too?”
Straightening his cuffs, he descended the two steps from the foyer into the great room, decorated with twinkling lights and crystal stars hanging from the ceiling. An enormous Christmas tree dominated one corner of the room, coated with silver flocking and sporting gold ornaments amid its colored lights.
He made a beeline for Claire, taking tentative steps in his direction, her stepfather, Senator Spencer Correll, almost prodding her forward.
This scenario wasn’t going as planned.
As the distance between them shortened to two feet, he held out one hand. “Sweetheart, I hope you don’t mind that I surprised you like this. My conference ended early.” He took her cold, stiff fingers in his hand and squeezed. “Lola sends her love.”
He pulled Claire toward him and kissed her smooth cheek. At the mention of Lola’s name, her hand relaxed in his. He didn’t know where the communication had failed, but at least Claire had some expectation of his presence here.
Her arms twined around his neck and she pressed her soft lips against his. “Babe, I’m thrilled to see you here, even though you spoiled my surprise.”
