Christmas Eve Marriage (HQR Classic)

by Jessica Hart

  “So what do you think?” asked Rhys after a tiny pause.

  “Um…about a goodbye kiss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I…I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. I wasn’t sure Kate was entirely convinced last night.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Another silence, longer this time. Long enough for Thea to wonder if he could actually hear her pulse booming.

  “We’d better make it look good then,” said Rhys.

  It was too much for Thea. As if of their own accord, her hands lifted to his arms, slid upwards to wind around his neck and pull him toward her. Or maybe she didn’t need to pull him. Maybe Rhys was closing the distance anyway. But, however it happened, they were kissing at last, and the release from all that anticipation was so intense Thea gasped in spite of herself.

  So much for cool, calm and in control.

  Jessica Hart had a haphazard career before she began writing to finance a degree in history. Her experience ranged from waitress, theater production assistant and outback cook to newsdesk secretary, expedition assistant and English teacher, and she has worked in countries as different as France and Indonesia, Australia and Cameroon. She now lives in the north of England, where her hobbies are limited to eating and drinking and traveling when she can, preferably to places where she’ll find good food or desert or tropical rain.

  If you’d like to find out more about Jessica Hart, you can visit her Web site at www.jessicahart.co.uk

  Books by Jessica Hart

  HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

  3757—FIANCÉ WANTED FAST!*

  3761—THE BLIND-DATE PROPOSAL*

  3765—THE WHIRLWIND ENGAGEMENT*

  3797—HER BOSS’S BABY PLAN

  CHRISTMAS EVE MARRIAGE

  Jessica Hart

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  NOTHING.

  Thea closed the fridge with a sigh and began investigating the kitchen cupboards, but they were equally empty of anything remotely resembling breakfast.

  What a great start to the holiday! A nightmare journey, an unfriendly neighbour, less than four hours’ sleep, and now nothing to eat.

  ‘Have a fortnight in Crete, she said,’ Thea muttered her sister’s words as she bent to peer. ‘You need a break. It’ll be beautiful. Nothing to do but read, relax…starve to death…’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Clara’s voice made Thea straighten and push her tangled hair away from her face. Her niece was at the bottom of the stairs, looking sleepy and tousled and very sweet in a baggy pink T-shirt. There was no doubt that it was a look that was easier to pull off after four hours’ sleep at nine, when you had peachy skin and a nice, firm little body, than at thirty-four, when peachy skin and a firm body had never figured largely among your assets in the first place.

  ‘Trying to find some breakfast,’ she said, yawning.

  ‘Oh, good. I’m hungry.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Thea glumly.

  Nothing new there, then. Easy to tell that she and Clara were related. You’d think they’d be too tired to be hungry. It had been nearly half past five before they got to bed that morning, and it was only just after nine now. Any normal stomach would be daunted by a nightmare trip, arriving in a strange country and utter exhaustion, but Martindale stomachs were tougher than that! A massive asteroid could be hurtling towards earth and her stomach would still be going, Mmm, nine o’clock, no wonder I’m a bit peckish…Bacon and eggs would be nice, or perhaps a little croissant before the end of the world…Oh, and make that a double cappuccino while you’re at it.

  She hadn’t even lost weight over Harry. It wasn’t fair. All her friends lost their appetites the moment they hit an emotional crisis, but the misery diet never worked for Thea. She just went in for comfort eating on a massive scale.

  Not that there was much chance of eating now, worse luck.

  ‘I can’t find anything to eat,’ she told Clara. ‘I think we may have to go shopping before breakfast.’

  Clara’s face fell. ‘But there aren’t any shops here. We’ll have to drive all the way back to that town we passed last night, and it’ll take ages. It’s miles away.’

  ‘I know.’ Thea grimaced at the memory of their hair-raising journey through the hills in the small hours. ‘I’m not sure I can face those hairpin bends again, let alone on an empty stomach,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘What shall we do?’

  ‘Well, first I think we should ring your mother and ask her why she booked a villa in the middle of nowhere, instead of a nice beach apartment near shops and restaurants!’

  Clara grinned. ‘She did say it was isolated.’

  ‘It’s that all right.’

  Thea eyed the view through the kitchen window without enthusiasm. Rocky hillsides, olive groves and the spectacular peaks of the White Mountains in the distance were all very well, but right then she would have sacrificed picturesque for the odd blot on the landscape, an ugly supermarket, say, or a nice plastic restaurant—preferably one that delivered coffee by the gallon and an assortment of calorie-laden breakfasts.

  She nibbled her thumb as she tried to think, but her brain really needed caffeine before it would function properly.

  ‘We’re just going to have to ask the people in the other villas if they can let us have some bread or something until we can get to the shops,’ she decided eventually.

  ‘We don’t have to ask that grumpy man we met last night, do we?’

  Clara looked a little apprehensive, as well she might, thought Thea, remembering their disastrous arrival.

  ‘I think there are three villas, aren’t there? We’ll try the other one first,’ she said, trying to sound positive. ‘Maybe they’ll be friendlier.’

  They couldn’t be less friendly, anyway, she thought glumly. So much for her relaxing holiday. She hadn’t planned to kick it off begging for a bit of bread and water. Why did these things happen to her?

  Oh, well. Better get on with it.

  They got dressed, which in Thea’s case meant shorts and a T-shirt, while Clara simply pulled a T-shirt over her swimming costume, and then headed off in search of breakfast.

  In spite of their hunger, they hesitated on the terrace and took in their surroundings. It was the first time they had seen the villas. Three stone-built houses were set around a communal pool that glinted bright and blue in the dazzling Greek sunlight.

  ‘Cool,’ breathed Clara. ‘Can I swim after breakfast?’

  It was very quiet. The air was already warm and filled with the drifting scent of herbs, and Thea sniffed appreciatively. ‘Lovely…thyme and oregano…let’s get some lamb to cook tonight.’

  ‘Let’s get breakfast first,’ said the more practical Clara.

  Their villa sat between the two others, looking directly out over the pool to the mountains beyond. On the right was the villa they had stumbled into by mistake the night before.

  ‘Let’s try this way first,’ said Thea, pointing left.

  All was very quiet as they climbed the steps leading up to the terrace. ‘Hello?’ Thea called, but there was no reply. ‘Hello?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s anyone here,’ Clara whispered, affected by the silence.

  ‘It doesn’t look like it.’

  Reluctantly, as one, they turned to look at the villa opposite. They had a much better view across the pool than from their
own terrace, and they could clearly see the man sitting at a table under a vine-laden pergola. A little girl was slumped in a chair beside him, scuffing her shoes sulkily.

  ‘There he is.’ This time it was Thea whispering.

  ‘He still looks cross,’ said Clara.

  It was too far to read his expression, in fact, but Thea knew what her niece meant. There was something off-putting about the body language on the opposite terrace.

  She bit her lip doubtfully. She had already experienced the rough side of his tongue, and she didn’t fancy it again. OK, the mistake was theirs, but there had been no need for him to be quite that fierce, had there?

  If she had any self-respect, she would go and find the car keys and brave the hairpin bends before she would ask him for so much as a glass of water.

  It was a battle between pride and her stomach, and her stomach won. No surprises there then.

  ‘He’s probably got a nice wife inside,’ she suggested to Clara. ‘She might feel guilty about the way he shouted at us. We weren’t making that much noise.’

  ‘It was five in the morning,’ said Clara gloomily. ‘And you did crash into his car.’

  ‘It was just a little bump.’

  Clara’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Maybe we should go to that town after all,’ she said, but Thea had stiffened.

  ‘Look.’ She nudged her niece as she spotted a cup and a cafetière on the table. ‘He’s got coffee!’

  She felt quite giddy at the thought. She would do anything for a cup of coffee right then. ‘Let’s just go and see,’ she encouraged Clara. ‘He’s not going to be rude in front of his little girl, is he?’

  Clara was clearly unconvinced, but she could see that her aunt was determined. ‘OK, but you do the talking,’ she warned.

  Buoyed up at the prospect of coffee, Thea bore her niece around the pool and back past their own villa. It was only at the bottom of the steps that her nerve began to fail. Close to, the man’s face was very grim as he looked out at the view. He was evidently lost in his thoughts, and it didn’t look as if they were particularly happy ones.

  He hadn’t seen them yet, and Thea faltered. ‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,’ she muttered.

  ‘Go on,’ whispered Clara, giving her a push. ‘We’re here now, and I’m starving!’

  Thea opened her mouth to argue, but just then the little girl spotted them and sat up curiously. She tugged at her father’s sleeve, and he turned his head and saw them lurking at the bottom of the steps. The intimidating brows rose in surprise and Thea gulped. It was too late to turn and run now.

  Squaring her shoulders, she trod up the steps with an assumption of confidence, Clara following reluctantly in her wake.

  ‘Morning!’ She produced a bright smile, the kind of smile she might give someone she had never met before. Someone who had never shouted at her furiously.

  He looked a little taken aback by her smile as he got to his feet. ‘Good morning.’

  His voice was cool but civil. That was something, thought Thea, looking on the bright side. At least he hadn’t leapt to his feet and roared at them the way he had only a matter of hours ago. It wasn’t the warmest welcome she had ever received, but Thea had to admit that she probably didn’t deserve one of those.

  ‘Hello.’ She smiled a little nervously at the little girl and received a blank stare in return. Oh. That grimness must run in the family.

  She turned back to the man. ‘We…er…thought we should come over and apologise for last night…well, this morning.’

  Distracted by the smell of coffee, her gaze wandered in spite of herself over to the cafetière, and she had to force herself to look back at him. ‘I’m very sorry for waking you up and…er…and for crashing into your car.’

  To her surprise, the sternness in his face lightened somewhat. ‘I think I’m the one who should apologise,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I was very rude to you. I’d had a difficult day,’ he went on, his own gaze straying involuntarily towards his daughter, ‘and an even worse evening, so I was in a filthy temper long before you arrived. It wasn’t fair to take it out on you.’

  An apology from him was the last thing Thea had expected, and she was completely thrown. ‘I don’t blame you for being annoyed,’ she said, stammering slightly. ‘It was very late and we were making a lot of noise, I know.

  ‘It was just that we’d had such a nightmare journey,’ she tried to explain. ‘The plane was delayed, of course, and then there was some problem with the baggage handling at the airport, which meant that we had to wait ages for our cases. By the time we’d found the car hire place, I was so tired I was like some kind of zombie—and that was before we had to find our way here in the dark.’

  ‘It’s not an easy drive at the best of times,’ he said, which was nice of him, Thea thought. Especially when she doubted very much that he would have found it difficult at any time of day. He had an air of calm competence about him that could be intimidating or incredibly reassuring, depending on how much you really needed someone competent with you.

  ‘I’d no idea it would be so far, or that the roads would be that scary,’ she told him. ‘It’s not as if I’m a good driver to begin with—I’m more used to taking cabs—and I really thought we’d never get here. We’d been creeping along for miles in the dark, terrified we were going to go over the edge…don’t you think somebody would have thought of putting up safety barriers at some point?…and it was such a relief to get here at last that I probably stopped concentrating.

  ‘We came round that corner there,’ she went on, pointing. ‘And the next thing I knew there was this big bang. I didn’t see your car until it was too late. I wasn’t going that fast,’ she added guiltily and risked a glance at him. Fortunately he was looking more amused than anything. Phew. A big change from last night!

  ‘It was just a little bump really, but I suppose it was the last straw. We were both so tired by then that we started to laugh. It was that or cry.’

  ‘So that’s what all the giggling was about,’ he said dryly. ‘I wondered what was so funny.’

  ‘I think it was hysteria rather than amusement, but once we’d started laughing we couldn’t stop. You know what it’s like when you start snorting, and then you set each other off…’ Thea trailed off as she realised that he was just looking at her.

  No, of course he didn’t. Obviously not.

  ‘Well…anyway…we didn’t realise how much noise we were making, obviously,’ she hurried on. ‘And then when we found ourselves in the wrong villa, it just seemed even funnier.’

  Or had, until he had come roaring down the stairs and demanded to know what the hell they thought they were doing. He had been furious. As well he might be, Thea thought contritely. If she’d been woken up in the early hours of the morning by the sound of someone crashing into her car, and if they had then started fooling around, laughing loudly and breaking into her house, she probably wouldn’t have been that amused either.

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said, wondering why it suddenly seemed so important to convince him that she wasn’t as silly as she had been last night. Or not often, anyway.

  ‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t your fault that I’d completely mislaid my sense of humour last night. I think we should pretend that we’ve never clapped eyes on each other before and start again, don’t you?’

  ‘That’s very nice of you.’ Thea smiled gratefully at him. ‘I’m Thea Martindale, and this is my niece, Clara.’

  ‘Rhys Kingsford.’

  Nice hands, Thea thought involuntarily as they shook hands. Warm, firm, capable. No clamminess or knobbly knuckles or suggestive little squeezes. Yes, full marks on the hand front.

  And the rest of him was bearing up well to closer scrutiny as well. A bit severe-looking maybe, with those dark brows and stern features, but he was certainly more attractive than she had realised last night. Not handsome like Harry, of course—no one was as good-looking as Harry—but still…yes, d
efinitely attractive.

  Certainly attractive enough for Thea to wish that she had taken the time to brush her hair properly and put on something more flattering before she came out.

  Rhys was gesturing towards the little girl who was still sitting at the table, refusing to show the slightest interest in what was going on. ‘My daughter, Sophie.’

  ‘Hi, Sophie,’ said Thea, and Clara smiled in a friendly fashion.

  His mouth thinned somewhat as she merely hunched a shoulder. ‘Say hello, Sophie,’ he said, a note of warning in his voice.

  ‘’lo,’ she muttered.

  A muscle beat in his jaw, but he turned back to Thea and smiled with an obvious attempt to master his frustration. ‘Well…how about some coffee? There’s plenty in the pot and it’s still hot.’

  Thea had been afraid he would never ask. The relationship between Rhys and his daughter was obviously strained but she was slavering too much over the smell of coffee to make a polite excuse and leave them to sort out their differences.

  ‘That would be lovely,’ she said firmly before the invitation could be withdrawn. ‘Actually, we came over to ask if you could possibly spare us some bread or something for breakfast,’ she went on in response to a nudge from Clara. ‘We haven’t got anything in the villa, and it’s a long drive to the shops.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Rhys. ‘Sophie, why don’t you go and see what you can find for breakfast—and bring a cup for Thea.’

  Sophie’s brows drew together mutinously, and for a moment she looked uncannily like her father had earlier that morning. ‘I don’t know where the cups are.’

  ‘Try looking in the cupboard,’ he told her, keeping his temper with an effort. ‘There’s some bread and jam on the table. You could bring that out, and whatever Clara would like to drink.’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ offered Clara quickly as Sophie opened her mouth to protest.

  Sophie looked deeply suspicious, but after a glance at her implacable father she deigned to drag herself off her chair and scuffed her way inside, accompanied by an unfazed Clara.