But the problem was that he was getting all mixed up in the process. The way he’d just caught Lucie looking at him made something inside him shift, something that had been lodged there for a long time. It was an emotional shield, a barrier he’d erected when he was younger and had realized that Lucie only wanted him as a friend. Sure, at the time he’d been badly hurt, but he was a grown man now, with years of experience in suppressing his emotions – wasn’t that what all sensible men did? But Lucie got to him like no other woman ever had. It was because he felt protective of her and because he cared about her. Because she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and because she had the tenderest heart, the warmest smile. When Lucie entered a room, the world came alive for Dale, and he knew that he’d probably never find that with another woman.
Which was why he hadn’t bothered trying to find it. He’d had odd flings over the years, but none of the women he dated were ever right. They didn’t have Lucie’s smile or tinkly laugh, they didn’t smell right or know how to tease him like she did. In his eyes she was perfect, and he knew it was idiotic, but unless he stopped caring so much about her he’d never allow himself to get into anything serious with someone else.
But Lucie was vulnerable, and there was no way that Dale was going to take advantage of that. She was probably just getting caught up in the festive excitement of Manhattan and trying to work through her grief over her mum. Twenty years might be a long time, but Dale knew from what he’d read on the subject that there was no time limit on grief. There was no clear beginning and end; it could ebb and flow, burn with acidic intensity or dull to a distant ache. And there was no telling when, or if, it would resurface and put someone on their behind again, like a powerful blow to the jaw.
It was what it was.
He had made his decision.
Whatever happened out here in New York, there would be no regrets. Not for Lucie. Not for him. This was all about getting Lucie through Christmas unscathed. This was not about what Dale wanted or needed; it was about her.
“What do you think, Luce? Up for a spot of ice skating tomorrow? Or do you want to try something else?” he asked as they stood watching the skaters circling the ice, some of them wobbly and nervous, some of them gliding gracefully.
Lucie gave what he recognized as her nervous laugh. “Maybe. Let’s see how the day goes.” She shivered. “But shall we go and get a warm drink now? I’m frozen.”
“Of course.” He hugged her to his side and they went off in search of refreshments. He had every intention of taking care of his best friend this week, but he hoped that he’d be able to look after his own heart in the process. Which meant being sensible and not letting his deeper feelings for Lucie get in the way of common sense.
* * *
Lucie and Dale stood in front of the bed, staring at it as if it were covered in spikes or hot coals. Lucie thought that spikes might be preferable to the nerves she was suddenly feeling. This was ridiculous! There was nothing to worry about here.
*So why am I so worried? *
“Why don’t I take the couch in the lounge?” Dale asked. “It’s certainly big enough.”
Lucie met his eyes. “Don’t be silly. There’s plenty of room here for both of us.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Lucie marched to the bed and started removing the throw pillows, placing them on the chaise at the base of the bed. She was about to move the bolster pillow, but then she had an idea. “If we stick that in the middle, then there’ll be no danger of me turning over and head-butting you in the night.” She smiled, hoping to lighten the atmosphere.
“Do you make a habit of head-butting men in your sleep?” Dale asked, his lips twitching. “No wonder your relationships never last.” He muttered the last sentence, but Lucie heard him.
“What did you say?”
“No-othing!” He held up his hands and shook his head.
“You did! You said my relationships never last. Right, that’s it!” She scowled at him then lifted a pillow and jumped onto the bed. “Arm yourself, Treharne.”
“What?”
“I said, choose a weapon. I won’t take down an unarmed man.”
Dale grabbed a cushion and held it up. “Oh, please don’t hurt me, Miss Quigley!”
Lucie growled then flew at Dale with her cushion raised. She brought it down with a thump, and Dale gasped as the cushion met his face. Suddenly, Lucie was falling through the air. She landed on her back on the bed and realized that Dale had swiped at the backs of her knees so she would lose her balance. She squealed and tried to turn, but he was there before she could move, pinning her arms above her head while he trapped her wriggling legs with his own. “What’re you doing?” She squirmed, trying to free herself, but Dale was right above her, and he was so much bigger than she was.
“Stopping you before you can ruin my good looks.”
“With a cushion?” She giggled.
“Yes. I have sensitive skin.” Dale rubbed his free hand over his stubble. “And you’re out of control.”
Lucie stared into his eyes. Her heart was pounding and she was breathless with exertion. And something else was surging through her body, something she thought she recognized. But she wasn’t sure. Couldn’t quite put a name on it. It felt good.
“How do I know I can trust you to let me sleep, Luce? Am I going to be woken up by you pounding me with pillows?”
She watched as his chest rose and fell quickly. Was he feeling it too?
“No, of course not. I promise that you will be safe while you sleep.”
“So you’re telling me I’m free from danger if I release you?” His pupils dilated.
“Yes.” She’d stopped wriggling now and was conscious of the heat emanating from his body, warming her right through.
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
For a moment he hovered there, his brown eyes reflecting her face like a distorted mirror. She could hear his short, sharp breaths, in and out; smell his fresh ginger-citrus scent and the clean washing powder fragrance of his clothes; feel the strength in his hands and his legs as he held her in place.
It was arousing, emotional and confusing.
So confusing.
Then Dale let go of her wrists and lifted himself from her, and Lucie allowed him to pull her to a sitting position at the edge of the bed.
“Let’s get some rest,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “Busy day tomorrow.”
She nodded, then went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
She stared at her reflection in the large gilt-edged mirror above the double sinks. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shone and her hair was a wild tangle. The way she felt about Dale sometimes baffled her, because she knew nothing could ever happen between them. Nothing like that, anyway. Yet just then, in the bedroom, she had wanted it to. And that scared her.
When she came back into the bedroom, hoping to speak to Dale about anything, everything; just to confirm that things were okay between them, that they were friends as they had always been and always would be, she found that he’d already fallen asleep. She gazed at him for a moment, lying on his side, facing away from her, his chest rising and falling slowly, his broad shoulders outlined by a fitted grey T-shirt.
Something in her deflated, as if she’d been filled with excitement and longing, then left too long in the sun.
She sighed, then climbed into bed next to him and switched off the bedside lamp, thinking it would take a long time to drop off, but within minutes she was drifting, her thoughts swirling around just like the snowflakes that had begun to fall outside.
Chapter 10
“Dale?” Lucie turned over in bed but her friend wasn’t there. The room was dark, with thick curtains blocking out the morning light, but the door to the lounge was open a crack, and through it she could see that it was bright outside. “Dale?”
She pulled on her robe then headed out into the lounge. Dale was stood before the enormous window, staring out at t
he view.
“Dale!” She hurried to his side.
“Hey Luce, what’s wrong?”
“Oh… I don’t know. For a moment there I panicked. I thought…”
“You thought what?” A tiny line appeared between his eyebrows.
“Nothing. Just the remnants of a bad dream.” She swallowed hard, trying to push away the nightmare. She’d been wandering the streets of Manhattan calling out Dale’s name, terrified that she’d lost him forever.
“Come here.” He opened his arms and she walked into his embrace, pressing her face into his T-shirt, breathing him in.
“It’s okay.” He squeezed her tight. “Now look at the view, Lucie.” He gently released her.
“Wow!”
“Pretty amazing, huh?” he asked.
“It’s incredible!”
Everything was white. During the night, there had been snow. Lots and lots of lovely snow, and now Central Park resembled a scene from a Christmas card. “It’s so pretty.”
“I ordered it especially for you.”
Lucie stared at him.
“The snow.” He grinned. “To ensure that this Christmas was perfect.”
“Of course you did.” Lucie nodded. “Had a word with the big guy upstairs, no doubt.”
“In the penthouse?” Dale frowned.
“Ha! Oh, Dale, it is perfect. Exactly how I always imagined it would look in December. How long have you been up?”
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. His dark hair was sticking up on one side and he had creases on his cheek from the pillow. He was wearing his grey T-shirt and striped pyjama bottoms made of a soft jersey material. “A while. Getting used to the change in time zones, I think.”
Lucie glanced at the sofa and just as she’d suspected, saw a pillow and blanket there.
“Oh, I uh, came out here because I was so restless. Didn’t want to disturb you with my tossing and turning.”
“You wouldn’t have. Apart from the bad dream just before I woke up, I slept like a log.”
“Didn’t want to risk it anyway. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”
“I’m really hungry.” She rubbed her belly. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Me too. I ordered room service. A variety of things because I wasn’t sure what you’d fancy. I thought we could eat then hit the streets.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
A knock at the door brought their breakfast. Dale tipped the porter then came to sit at the table.
It must be the tiredness giving her a sense of unreality, as well as the strange light from the heavy snowfall, but Lucie really did feel as if they were on a film set. As if at any moment someone would yell CUT! and they’d all head off to their trailers.
“This doesn’t feel real, does it?” she asked Dale as he flicked out his large white napkin.
He shook his head. “I know what you mean. Yesterday we were at home in Tonbridge, and today we’re in a luxurious hotel in Manhattan, about to tuck into a gourmet breakfast. I want to take pictures of everything so it lasts longer.”
“Me too!” Lucie giggled. “I’m so glad you feel the same.”
They feasted on fruit salad, crunchy oat granola and the thickest pancakes Lucie had ever seen, which Dale doused in golden maple syrup, and they washed it all down with freshly brewed coffee.
“Time for a day of New York fun?” Dale asked.
“Definitely!” Lucie agreed, taking one more look out of the window before she went to get ready. The combination of good food, good company and the prospect of a fun-filled day, along with the snow falling just outside the glass, was incredibly uplifting.
“You know, Dale. I think your plan might just be working.”
He smiled and she was glad that she’d told him, glad that she was able to tell him truthfully that she was enjoying herself. As she padded off to the bedroom, she was filled with a warm glow. She loved a lot of things in life, but top of the list was making Dale happy.
***
The kerbs of Fifth Avenue were basically clear of snow thanks to the thick crowds of shoppers, but the fat white flakes were still falling, and Lucie had to keep brushing them off her shoulders and hat.
The window displays were like nothing she’d ever seen before. From wintery family scenes made of Swarovski crystal, to giant teddy bears and snowmen with red and green hats and scarves, to thousands of colourful twinkling lights; everything screamed decadence, festivity and elegance. Dale was clearly bursting with excitement, because he kept grabbing Lucie’s hand and pulling her to the next window.
When they reached Macy’s, there was a romantic tableau of a couple staring into a shop window looking at rings. Dale and Lucie paused there for a moment, and Lucie wondered what it would be like to shop for an engagement ring with him. If they hadn’t split up after that summer when they’d become lovers, but had stayed together all this time. They might even have been married with children by now…
“Lucie!” She jumped as she heard a familiar voice calling her name. “Lucie! Dale! Woo hoo, you two! Caught in the act, no less.”
Petra arrived at her side, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining from the cold.
“Oh, hi Petra.” Lucie took in Petra’s impractical leather stiletto boots, short denim skirt – revealing very tanned, toned legs – and faux fur jacket complete with matching Russian-style hat.
“Hello, lovebirds! So which one will it be?” Petra looked from Lucie to Dale and back again.
“What?” Dale asked.
“Which ring, silly!”
Lucie slipped her hand into Dale’s and squeezed. “Oh, it’s a bit soon for that really.”
“Nonsense! Now don’t tell me that Dale hasn’t proposed, or that he isn’t planning to?” Petra placed her hands on her hips and frowned. “You can’t come to New York at Christmas and not propose, Dale! You two are having me on, aren’t you?”
Lucie was about to explain that they weren’t when Dale took over. “Look Petra, it’s something we’re thinking about… if you know what I mean. But I haven’t exactly popped the question yet.”
“Oh!” Petra widened her heavily made-up eyes and nodded. “I get you… Sorry, darlings! I’m jumping the gun, eh? Well how about a glass of bubbly to get us all into the festive spirit? I’ve been Christmas shopping, but my feet are killing me and I could do with a rest.”
Lucie glanced at Dale and found that he was looking at her. “What do you want to do, darling?” She hid her smile at the term of endearment he’d used.
A snowflake landed on her nose so she blew it off. “Up to you, really, darling.”
“Well, I insist that you accompany us to the champagne bar at The Plaza,” said a deep male voice behind them. They turned to find Harry Goldsmith. “My treat! To thank you both for coming all this way for our wedding.”
“That would be wonderful,” Dale replied.
Lucie squeezed Dale’s hand again in silent thanks, then they followed Harry and Petra through the crowds.
***
“It’s The Plaza!” Lucie whispered to Dale as they entered the hotel lobby. “The Plaza.”
“I know.” He grinned at her. “Champagne in The Plaza.”
Harry and Petra strode through to the bar as if they did it every day, and Lucie made an effort to appear as nonchalant as she could manage, although inside she was ready to burst. She wanted to pull out her phone and take pictures of everything: from the ornate displays, to the doormen, to the chandeliers, to the champagne bar itself.
A waitress led them to a corner table where they sat in cream satin-covered chairs with golden backs. As the waitress took their order – a bottle of something Lucie couldn’t even pronounce – Lucie allowed Dale to help her with her coat. She stared around the room. Golden drapes hung from the enormous windows, and dotted around the room were large plants in golden pots, giving it a somewhat Grecian feel. The edges of the room were carpeted but the centre was tiled, with an elaborate mosaic at its core. As the wait
ress returned from the L-shaped bar across the room that was complete with shelves bearing different types of champagne, her heels clicked on the tiles. The haunting notes of carols, sung by a church choir, tinkled from discreet speakers and gave the whole place a soothing atmosphere.
“Does anyone want anything to eat?” Harry asked as the waitress filled everyone’s glasses.
“I couldn’t, really,” Lucie said. “I’m still full from breakfast.”
Dale paused for a moment then shook his head. “Probably better not.”
“Dale always has room for more food. Hollow legs, right!” She laughed but noticed that while Harry was smiling, Petra was gazing across the room.
“Petra? Everything okay?”
Petra met her gaze and suddenly sat upright as if someone had just flicked on a switch. “Yes. Fabulous, darling! Just a little tired from all the planning and preparation.”
“Oh! Excuse me a moment.” Harry gestured at his mobile. “I have to take this.”
He dashed from the room and Petra lifted her glass and drank it down in one go.
“Work?” Dale asked.
“Probably,” Petra replied. “They know we’re out here to get married but even so, they give him no peace. He’s answering calls morning, noon and night. You know, I hoped that by heading so far away that we’d get some time away from it all, but apparently not.” She chewed her bottom lip then refilled her glass.
Lucie sipped her champagne, savouring the sophisticated finish. Drinking at this time of the morning seemed so decadent, but the experience was somewhat marred by a nagging at the back of her mind. She recalled what Tania had told her about Petra and Harry, and it made her uneasy. What if Tania had been right? After all, Harry could surely have told work to leave him alone for the week of his wedding, couldn’t he? Yet Lucie had to admit that she didn’t know much about how things worked in the City, and she suspected that high-paid bankers like Harry probably did work through their evenings, weekends and holidays.
A Very Merry Manhattan Christmas Page 13
