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‘There’s not much to say. I was an only child for years, and Christmas was always quiet. I vowed that one day I’d have loads of kids—that I’d marry someone with an enormous family and Christmas would be packed with frivolity and fun and festivities.’
The look on her face was wistful, as if she could see that dream Christmas before her.
‘That didn’t pan out, but Cathy and I always have a fab day. We get up at dawn and open our stockings—lots of fun gifts, like mugs, chocolates, jewellery... Then we have a pancake breakfast and a long walk before we cook Christmas dinner with Christmas music turned up high. We eat, open more presents, watch films, play games, eat chocolate... It’s a great day. I do my best to make up for the lack of family.’
He threaded another bead onto the wire ring and eyed her. Curiosity percolated through him as to why she’d given up on her dream. ‘It’s not too late for you to marry and have more kids. Not because you want a suitable dad for Cathy, but because it’s what you want.’
‘I told you—marriage is not for me. As for more kids...I have considered adoption, but I know what a big step that is to take.’
It was a step he would never take; because it wouldn’t be fair. The law stated that an adopted child could not inherit his title. So no way could he adopt a son and bring him up on an estate he could never inherit. And somehow to adopt a girl just because her gender meant she couldn’t inherit seemed wrong.
For a second, desolation touched him, but he pushed it away, focused instead on Etta. There was no reason why she couldn’t have the future she’d once envisaged. ‘Perhaps it’s the right step for you? But what about the other part of that dream? The husband and the in-laws and the whole big family Christmas?’
‘It’s not going to happen. I think I’m missing the necessary gene.’
Her voice was light but it masked sadness, and now the air felt awhirl with dreams that had bitten the dust. Both his and hers. Dreams of families seated around dining tables, children opening presents under the Christmas tree... His dreams couldn’t be resurrected, but maybe hers could.
‘Rubbish.’
‘No, it’s not! I told you. I’ve tried dating and it...it doesn’t work out.’
‘And I told you you’re dating the wrong men.’ He surveyed her. ‘I bet you’re going for nice, average men with nice, respectable jobs and—’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ Colour climbed her cheekbones and she narrowed her eyes.
‘Physical attraction is important too.’
‘I don’t see why that can’t grow with time.’
Gabe raised his eyebrows. ‘For real? Has that worked for you so far? Sheesh! You told me you’ve ended up dancing at your dates’ weddings to other women. Not the best track record.’
‘So what do you suggest?’
‘That you date someone you feel attracted to in a physical way—where there’s a spark.’
‘Maybe that gene is missing too.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
The last berry slipped onto the ring and he stood and held up the mistletoe circle, attached it to the waiting ring.
‘Look up.’
A hesitation and then she did as he asked, her face tipped up towards him, her delicate angled features bathed in the flicker of light.
‘Kiss me and I’ll show you,’ he said. ‘The ball’s in your court. Literally.’
His throat constricted, his breath massed in his lungs, and then slowly Etta rose to her feet and stepped forward until she was flush against him. Hesitantly her hands came up and looped around his neck. Her fingers touched his nape and desire shuddered through his body. And then she stood on tiptoe and touched her lips against his in sweet hesitation.
Her lips parted in a sigh of pleasure and he deepened the kiss. For a heartbeat she hesitated, and then her body relaxed, melted against his, and he pulled her closer, inhaled her vanilla scent, tasted a tang of peppermint. Then sweetness morphed into more—into a fierce intensity of sheer sensation as need grew.
Until she pulled away and stood with eyes wide as their ragged breaths mingled.
‘I...’
Panic filled the tawny brown eyes and her lips twisted into a line that spelled mortification.
Gabe tried to pull his frazzled brain cells together—knew he had to stop her before she ran.
