Page 57 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

Daisy bit down on her lip to stop another laugh escaping, because it was such a line. ‘Lars.’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘You’re very kind, and I … I’ve had a lovely evening with you. But my brother drove me in, so I need to go and meet him.’

Lars’s smile softened. ‘Such a shame.’

‘After all the wine and brandy, it’s a good thing I’m not driving. This has been really fun, the meal was wonderful, and I’m looking forward to seeing City Drift take shape. I’ll speak to you next week.’

‘Daisy.’ He caught her arm.

She laughed. ‘I need to go.’

‘I really can’t temp you into staying? I could drive you back to the coast tomorrow.’

Daisy’s breath caught. ‘You’re a very valuable client,’ she said carefully, ‘and I enjoy spending time with you, but I need to get home.’

‘Think about it,’ he said. ‘If not tonight, then next time you’re in Norwich. I am open to bending the rules if you are.’

Daisy swallowed. She didn’t want to say no to him, not outright. Not because she wanted to leave the door open, but because she needed them to stay on good terms until the end of the project. He had been fun and relaxed in all their interactions, but she didn’t know how he’d react if she rejected him, if his pride would be wounded and he’d make things uncomfortable. So much for being able to predict his every move.

‘I’ll call you next week,’ she said. ‘Thank you again for tonight.’

‘Of course.’ His catlike smile made her falter. Perhaps she should have been unequivocal. She turned away, and he let go of her arm. ‘I had a lot of fun tonight too,’ he called after her.

She waved a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t reply. Lars was tempting in lots of ways, and if it hadn’t been for Avery, she might have responded differently to his offer. Instead she strode up the hill, her breath coming out in puffs as she took her phone out to call Harry.

‘You sure you’re OK?’ Harry glanced over from the driver’s seat as they left the city’s shimmering lights behind and drove into the darkness of the Norfolk countryside. The stars glinted beyond the window, as if encouraging Daisy back to Mistingham.

‘A bit tired. It’s hard keeping up sparky business patter over dinner.’

‘Isn’t that one of your greatest skills?’

‘Usually.’ She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. ‘I had too much wine, then brandy, and now I’m deflating.’

Harry cleared his throat. ‘How is it going?’

‘How is what going?’ It was her turn to look over at him. ‘My post-alcohol deflation? The job with Lars?’

‘All of it. Being in Mistingham. Your … plans. You seem enthusiastic about the Christmas ball, Sophie says you’re running it like a pro, but I know none of this is easy for you.’

‘It’s easier than I thought it would be,’ she admitted. ‘After Stefan, after having everything upended then moving into my flat, trying to start again somewhere new, being back in Mistingham has been … comforting.’

‘Comforting?’

‘No need to sound so surprised. You’re my annoying but kind older brother, and Sophie’s lovely. It’s been good seeing Dexter and Winnie and Fiona again. I’ve still got some work, even if it’s turning out to be a little bit complicated. I can be here while Mo and Pete sort out the flat, I can embroil myself in all the Christmas shenanigans—’

‘Embroil? Shenanigans?’

‘Exactly those words,’ she said. ‘But I mean them in a good way.’

‘Why is the thing with Lars complicated? Because he wants to take it outside the conference room?’

Daisy’s heart thudded. ‘How do you know that?’

‘An educated guess, because it seems like you’re dealing with more than tiredness. If you’re uncomfortable, then just walk away. If you’re not uncomfortable, then go for it. If you need me to knock him out, I can do that, too.’

‘I know that,’ she said with a grateful smile, even if his options seemed too simple for the situation. ‘And I can deal with it.’

‘I thought you’d say that. But you know you don’t have to, right? You don’t have to do anything by yourself. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. As far as I’m concerned, you never did.’

‘Thank you.’ She thought of Avery, the fact that he was clearly dealing with something by himself.