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Now, she was conscious of the heavy breathing next to her. She turned her head just a little, scared to shift in the bed in case she woke him.
Finlay Armstrong’s muscular shoulders and arms were above the duvet cover. She had a prime view. All of a sudden her mouth felt oddly dry. He was sleeping. For the first time ever, Finlay looked totally relaxed. There were no lines on his face. None at all. All the usual little stress lines around his forehead and eyes had completely vanished.
He almost looked like a different person. Finlay had always been handsome. But there was always some kind of barrier around him, some protective shield that created tension and pressure. This was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him.
His jaw was shadowed with stubble. Her eyes followed the definition of his forearms and biceps, leading up to his shoulders and muscled chest. He shifted and the duvet moved again. Crumpled next to his shoulder looked like a black T-shirt. Did he have anything else on under these covers?
She squirmed under the bedclothes. Her flannel pyjamas were uncomfortably warm. The heating had obviously kicked in overnight. She slid one foot out of bed then realised she hadn’t brought any slippers. The carpet was cool. She’d need to find some socks.
How did she get out of bed without waking him?
Her phone beeped. Except it wasn’t really a beep. The jangling continued to echo around the room.
Finlay’s eyelids flickered open and he stretched his arms out, one hand brushing her hair.
Her heartbeat flickered against her chest as he turned his head towards her and fixed on her with his sleepy blue eyes. ‘Morning,’ he whispered.
‘Morning,’ she replied automatically. She felt kind of frozen—even though one of her legs was currently dangling out of the bed.
The edges of his lips turned upwards as the phone tune kept going. ‘Or should I say Merry Christmas?’
It was like warm melted chocolate spreading over her heart. She’d had so many images in her head about this Christmas—all of them focusing on the fact she’d be alone.
This was the absolute last thing she’d expected to happen. Waking up in bed next to Finlay Armstrong in a castle in Scotland would never have found a way into her wildest imagination. She almost wanted to pinch herself to check she was actually here.
She couldn’t help but smile. ‘Merry Christmas, Finlay,’ she said in a voice that squeaked more than she wanted it to.
He stretched again and pushed the covers back. If she’d been prepared—and if she’d been polite—she wouldn’t have been caught staring at his abs and chest muscles as he jumped up in a pair of shorts and reached over for his T-shirt. He slid it easily over his head. Giving her a smile as she watched every movement. ‘I take it the heating’s kicked in at least. Not as warm as I might have hoped. The fire in here last night made me too warm. We’ll need to try and find a happy medium.’
She swung her leg out of bed and stopped dead. She was facing the window—the one she’d removed the dusty curtains from last night. For as far as the eye could see there was thick white snow. It clung to every bump of the terrain. Every tree. Every fence. Every path. She stood up and moved automatically to the window. ‘Oh, wow,’ was all that came out.
She felt his presence at her shoulder and tried not to think about the fact there wasn’t much between her and those taut muscles. ‘You wanted snow,’ he said quietly.
She nodded. ‘Yes. I did.’ She turned her head towards him. ‘Just how wet are we going to get?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘How wet do you want to get?’
The air was rich with innuendo. She could play this either way. But she couldn’t forget how they’d ended up here. She just wasn’t sure where she was with Finlay. All she knew was that the more those deep blue eyes looked at her, the more lost she felt.
‘It’s snow angels all the way,’ she said safely. ‘But how about we find the Christmas decorations first?’
He nodded. ‘Let’s get some breakfast. Then, I think I might have a turkey to stick in the oven before we hit the hills. I know where the Christmas decorations are stored—but I’ve no idea what state they’re in.’
Grace shrugged her shoulders. ‘No matter. I’d just like to have Christmas decorations up when we eat dinner tonight. We’ll need to clean up the sitting room too.’
He hesitated. ‘Are you sure? This isn’t a busman’s holiday, you know. Just because it’s the day job, doesn’t mean that I expect you to help clean up around here.’ He stuck his hands on his hips as he looked at the white view. ‘I should probably get a company in.’
