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‘I am tired.’ Kay seized the opportunity, but it was the truth anyway. She suddenly didn’t know how she was going to put one foot in front of the other to climb the stairs again. ‘I’m going to go to bed, if you don’t mind?’ She included the three of them in her swift glance. ‘Goodnight, and happy Christmas.’
‘I’ll see you up the stairs—we don’t want you falling headlong, do we?’ Mitchell said silkily, ignoring her protests as he took her arm, saying to the other two, ‘I’ll be back in a second, and I’ll have my coffee black, Henry, with a brandy.’
‘I can manage perfectly well, thank you,’ Kay muttered once they were at the foot of the stairs. ‘Go back and have your coffee.’
‘Bossy little wench, aren’t you?’ He grinned down at her but his eyes were thoughtful as they took in her pale face and the shadows under her eyes. ‘Your mother’s right, damn it, you have done too much. I shall have to watch that in the future.’
She couldn’t take much more of this. For some reason she felt as though every single nerve end was exposed tonight.
‘Right, let’s get you into bed.’ It was deliberately wicked and she opened her mouth to make a tart retort that never got voiced, Mitchell cutting it off by the simple expedient of whisking her up into his arms.
‘Put me down, Mitchell. I can walk.’
‘Perhaps, but this is nicer.’ He looked down at her as he mounted the stairs, taking her mouth in a hard, swift kiss that took Kay’s breath away.
He was too strong to fight, too powerful. She sagged against the hard wall of his chest, willing the moment to go on for ev
er. She wished she were a tall, stunning blonde with the sort of vital statistics to drive a man wild; she wished he hadn’t been hurt so badly by the one woman in his life he should have been able to trust, and who had shaped the young boy Mitchell into the man he now was; she wished—oh, she wished for all sorts of things and all of them pipe dreams.
He was holding her closely, securely, as they reached the bedroom. He set her down outside the door, looking down at her quizzically as he said, ‘I presume you want me to leave you here?’
No. No, she didn’t. ‘Yes, please. Mitchell, the girls’ presents? We usually leave them in a pillowcase under the tree at home.’
‘All taken care of. Henry and I have got them ready and we’ll leave them there before we retire. Leonora said there’s also a small matter of a glass of sherry and mince pie? We’ll make sure the glass is suitably sooty and most of the mince pie’s eaten, of course. Santa has to keep his strength up.’
‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said softly. ‘It’s been fun.’
‘Your home being turned upside down with a houseful of invalids?’ Kay said disbelievingly.
He smiled as he lowered his head, his kiss tender and painfully sweet this time. His body was bent over her but no part was touching except his mouth fused to hers. ‘You’re here,’ he said huskily as he straightened. ‘That makes it fun.’
‘Goodnight, Mitchell. Happy Christmas.’ It was a whisper and she opened the door as she spoke, stepping inside the room quickly and closing the door without looking at him again. She stood leaning against the wood for several moments, however, her heart beating fast and her legs trembling.
Christmas Eve, a magical time.
Tired as she was, she levered herself off the door and walked across to the window, looking down into the snow-covered garden for a minute or two before she drew the curtains.
But it was no good wishing for the moon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE twins must have been tired out with all the excitement and anticipation of Christmas Eve, because it was after seven o’clock when Kay’s bedroom door was flung open and two tiny pyjama-clad little figures hurled themselves onto the bed.
‘Mummy! It’s Christmas morning!’
‘The baby Jesus is born, Mummy.’
This last exclamation was from Emily, the ever practical Georgia adding, ‘Has Father Christmas been? Has he left our presents?’
‘I don’t know, my darlings.’ Kay had slept deeply and dreamlessly and now, as she struggled up in bed, brushing her hair out of her eyes and hugging each little wriggling girl, she added, ‘Shall we go and see what’s under the tree?’
‘What a good idea.’
The deep male voice from the doorway brought the twins bouncing round and Kay hastily pulling the duvet up to her chin. Mitchell was leaning against the door post, his hair ruffled and his face unshaven, and Kay’s heart gave a kick like a mule. He was dressed in a black silk robe and matching pyjama bottoms, and he looked more sexy than any man had the right to first thing in the morning.
‘I presume Grandma will want to come and join in the proceedings?’ Mitchell asked Kay, his eyebrows raised. And at her nod, added, ‘Go and get her, girls, but gently, okay? Wake her gently.’
