“I like having kids around.” Dylan’s crooked grin said he recognized Aidan’s astonishment and understood it. There had been a time when Dylan was the ultimate party animal. Now, however, he had embraced the role of family man with enthusiasm.
It didn’t hurt that beautiful, quiet, smart-as-Einstein Mia shared his bed every night. They were an unlikely couple in many ways, but somehow the two of them together made it work.
Mia glanced at her watch. “Are you both going up to the lodge to eat with your mom and the rest of the clan?”
“You’re not?” Aidan was surprised. His mother’s command performances demanded proper deference.
Mia shook her head. “I’ve been given a dispensation. I want to get Cora to bed on her usual schedule, because we’re going to Asheville tomorrow to find her a dress for the wedding.”
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”
Mia shook her head. “Blame it on your brother. He’s the one who decided we had to get married ASAP.”
“Because?”
Dylan spoke up, his face a study in love and devotion as he eyed the two women in his house. “I’m adopting Cora,” he said. “The papers are going to be finalized the day after Christmas. I want us to be a family before the New Year.”
Conversation wandered in less serious directions after that. Dylan offered Aidan a beer while Mia sprawled on the floor to play with Cora. Aidan decided in that quiet half hour that he couldn’t go back to Emma’s. Not today. He had things to figure out, and he needed space and time to understand what her motives were.
When he and Dylan joined the two females on the floor, Aidan addressed Mia. “I need a favor, since you and Cora aren’t going up the mountain for dinner.”
She untangled Cora’s fingers from her hair. “Name it. I need to build up all the family points I can get.”
He chuckled. “It’s nothing bad, I swear. But did you hear about the accident in town on Friday afternoon?”
Mia nodded, pausing to blow a raspberry on Cora’s tummy. “Someone ran a red light and hit a pedestrian.”
“Yes. I happened to be there at the time and followed the ambulance to the hospital. The woman’s name is Emma Braithwaite. She says she’s friends with you.”
He felt a lick of shame at manipulating his sister-in-law. But he needed to know if Emma had disclosed the relationship she shared with Aidan.
Mia’s gaze was anxious. “Is she okay?”
He nodded. “Home resting now. A concussion and some stitches. She didn’t want to bother you because of the baby and the wedding. But it seems that she’s fairly new in town...right? And doesn’t know many people? I was hoping you and Cora could run over there and take her some dinner.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed as though he sensed something was going on but wasn’t sure what. “Who died and made you Clara Barton?”
“I watched the accident happen. All I had in mind was heading to the hospital and making sure she was okay. But when I found out she didn’t have anyone to help out, I offered to get her home and settled when she was discharged.”
“How convenient.”
Hearing Dylan voice the same sarcastic response Aidan had used with Emma made him wince inwardly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Give me a break, Aidan. I’ve seen Emma. She’s tall, blond and gorgeous...with a voice like an angel. You were smitten and decided to go all Galahad on her poor, helpless self.”
Mia looked up with a frown. “I’m sitting right here,” she said.
Dylan gave her a smoochy face. “Don’t worry, my love. You know I’m into short, dark and cuddly.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” Aidan groused. “You two are embarrassing little Cora.”
Cora, oblivious to the repartee, played with her toes.
Aidan weighed the facts. Clearly, Emma had made no mention to Mia of the fact that Emma and Aidan went way back. So if she wasn’t using her past relationship with Aidan to ingratiate herself into the Kavanagh family, what was her deal?
* * *
He wrestled with his suspicions all evening, in the midst of a loud, argumentative, completely normal dinner with his siblings and his mother. To be honest, he’d forgotten how much fun it could be when they were all together. Usually when he came home to visit, at least one or two of the crew were missing...spread out here, there and yonder. It was increasingly difficult to corral all the Kavanaghs in the same place at the same time.
Maeve hadn’t forgotten, though. It was at her insistence that they were all gathered under one roof tonight. And this was only the first of a series of holiday moments scripted by the matriarch of the family.
Liam’s wife, Zoe—still with a new bride’s glow—fit right in. Unlike the introverted Mia, Zoe loved a social gathering. She laughed and flirted and played the role of naive newcomer with verve, all under the indulgent eye of her besotted husband.
Aidan tipped a metaphorical hat to his mom. With Dylan’s wedding, the whole Christmas season and a brand-new, soon-to-be-adopted Kavanagh kiddo, Maeve had scored a trifecta.
He left the Silver Beeches Lodge with a smile on his face. Though his room was upstairs, he was too wired to sleep. Instead, he climbed into his car and drove toward town. The closer he came to Emma’s place of business, the less he smiled.
Parking at the curb below her windows, he stared up at the light. Why had she come to Silver Glen? He told himself he didn’t care, but that was a lie. The Emma he had known in college was neither devious nor vengeful. Though, that was a very long time ago. Had she somehow decided to blame him for the meltdown of their relationship?
Only the most naive of assessments could attribute anything positive to her unexpected appearance in Silver Glen. His immediate reaction to finding her was suspicion and wariness. None of this made sense.
But even knowing that she had made the acquaintance of at least of two of his family members and that she had never once mentioned to either of them her connection to Aidan, he didn’t want to believe the worst.
Truthfully, now that he had spent some time with her, it was impossible to hold back the flood of memories. Feelings he thought long dead pumped adrenaline into his bloodstream. She was like a drug in his system. He had detoxed after she nearly ruined his life. But the addiction was still there. Waiting to be resurrected.
If he had an ounce of self-preservation, he would stay the hell away. He’d crafted a decent life for himself—an even-keeled existence with no surprises, no regrets. No highs, no lows. It was safe...and financially remunerative. Even without his share of the family business, he had plenty of disposable income. And many friends of both sexes to help him fritter it away.
Emma’s unexpected incursion into his life shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar. Yet he had spent the night at her place. The same old Aidan, looking out for a woman who didn’t want or need his protection.
He knew better.
But did he have the guts to turn his back on the one person who had taught him both the incredible rush of desire entwined with new love and also the soul-crushing agony of betrayal?
Six
December in the mountains of North Carolina was a capricious season. It could either be snowy and cold, balmy and sunny, or—as was the case this year—wet and gloomy.
Emma leaned against the windowsill, hands tucked in the pockets of her chenille robe, and watched water droplets track down the glass. Her view of the street below was distorted...like an image in a dream.
For four days she had expected Aidan to return, and for four days she had been disappointed. Now, there was no denying the truth. He was not coming back.
Having Mia show up on her doorstep Sunday evening had been the first sign. Though Emma was delighted to see her friend and little Cora, the fact that Aidan had promised to bring her dinner and then delegated that responsibility suggested he had been caring for Emma only out of a sense of duty.
She was the one who had wishfully attributed his emotions to feelings
of affection. Which was ludicrous, really...she fully admitted that. Aidan had good reason to despise her. Only the honor and integrity instilled by Maeve Kavanagh into each and every one of her sons had compelled Aidan to come to Emma’s aid.
Twitching the lace sheers back into place, she contemplated the outfit that lay draped across the red velvet settee. Tonight was the first of Maeve’s holiday events—a fete for Dylan and Mia. Since the wedding plans had been thrown together so quickly, there hadn’t been time for a more traditional bridal shower.
Because Dylan’s home was fully outfitted, particularly with the addition of Mia’s things, tonight’s invitation had requested gifts to one of three charities in lieu of toasters and stemware. Emma had already written a large check and tucked it in her shimmery silver clutch. As a small thank-you gift to Mia and Dylan for their friendship, she had wrapped up a memento—an antique silver picture frame engraved on the lower edge with the words, ’til the end of time...
In her imagination, she saw a young war bride tucking it into her soldier’s pocket as he headed off to the other side of the world. Emma was a romantic. And a proud one. At one time, she had believed that every woman could find her soul mate. Now, older and wiser, she wasn’t entirely sure. But she still hadn’t given up on romance, even if it was mostly for other people.
Quite honestly, she didn’t want to go tonight. Her leg still hurt, though it was much improved, and her head ached if she tried to do too much. But the doctor had cleared her to go back to work.
If she planned to open the shop tomorrow after a several-day absence, she could hardly expect Maeve to understand if Emma cried off tonight’s festivities for health reasons. She was trapped by her affection for Mia and Maeve and the many kindnesses they had shown her as a newcomer to Silver Glen.
On the upside, if Aidan were avoiding her, it would make tonight more tolerable. Maybe they could sit on opposite sides of the room. She didn’t have a problem with that, at all.
She sat down and stroked the fabric of her formal dress. Strapless and Grecian in design, the column of platinum silk was actually quite comfortable. A Christmas gift from her mother, the dress made the most of her height and her pale skin. Instead of washing her out, the color was surprisingly flattering.
Regrettably, because of her painful leg, she would have to forgo her favorite, sparkly three-inch heels. Silver ballet flats would have to do. In the meantime, she would practice not tripping since the skirt was bound to brush the floor.
Mia had insisted on sending a car to pick up Emma at her apartment. Though Emma thought it a wasteful luxury, she had to admit that not having to drive was a relief.
The hours of the afternoon crept by. The cleaning lady came and went, leaving the small rooms spotless. Afterward, Emma took a bath in the old-fashioned claw-footed tub, leaning her head back and closing her eyes as she escaped to a sweeter, less volatile time in her life...
Aidan met her at the library, his hushed greeting drawing disapproving stares. Perhaps because he dragged her against him and gave her an enthusiastic kiss. He was always doing that. The uninhibited American and the repressed Englishwoman.
“Did you get your paper turned in?” she asked, loving the way his eyes ate her up. Aidan made her feel like the world’s sexiest woman. It was heady stuff for a girl who had spent much of her youth as a wallflower. Crooked teeth, a slight stammer and paralyzing shyness had made boarding school a nightmare. At home, things were not much better. The few village children who were her age were either intimidated by her title or openly sullen, resenting the money that made her life easy in their estimation.
Aidan stroked her hair, his eyes lit with humor and lust. “My paper on the wives of Henry the Eighth? Yes. Barely. All I could think about was getting you naked again.”
They had been lovers for a week. Seven glorious days that had changed her life. “Aidan,” she said urgently. “Hush. I don’t want to get tossed out of here.”
“Won’t dear old Daddy take care of any demerits?”
“Don’t joke about that,” she said, shivering as if a ghost had walked over her grave. “He would kill me if he knew that I—”
“Let your virginal self be ravaged?”
Her grin was reluctant. “You are such a scoundrel.”
He slapped a hand over his heart. “Me? You must have me confused with someone else. I’m the man who loves you, body and soul...”
From the living room, she heard the chiming of the hour on her mantel clock. It was five-thirty already. Her pumpkin coach would be arriving in little more than an hour.
Climbing out of the tub, she dried herself with a thick Turkish towel and sat in front of the mirror to twist her hair into a complicated style befitting the dress. When that was done, she applied makeup with a light hand. A bit of blush, a hint of glittery powder at her cleavage. Mascara to darken her too-pale lashes, and finally, a spritz of her favorite perfume and a quick slick of lip gloss.
Hobbling into the bedroom at a much slower pace than usual, she dragged open her lingerie drawer and selected a matching set of silk undies in pale celery green. Since it was too cold and damp to go bare legged, she added a lacy garter belt and cobweb-thin stockings with a naughty seam up the back.
She might be dateless tonight, but that was no reason to let her spirits drag. It was Christmas, damn it. And she intended to squeeze every last bit of ho-ho-ho cheer out of the occasion. Aidan and his judgmental attitude could take a hike to the North Pole and stay there for all she cared.
It was becoming increasingly clear that her move to Silver Glen might have been ill-advised, at least when it came to Aidan. He didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. But fortunately, he would be gone soon—back to the big city where he could wine and dine every woman in Manhattan if he wanted to.
Emma had finally found a place where she felt at home. After so many years in Boston, she was out of step with her English roots. And city living in Massachusetts really hadn’t suited her, despite enjoying her job. She was really a small-town girl when all was said and done.
Here, in Silver Glen, she had a future. Her business was off to a good start. She had the opportunity to meet new people. Even if Aidan never gave her a chance to make things right between them, his charming hometown offered a cozy place to create her nest.
At twenty ’til seven, she realized that since her accident she had never actually tried negotiating the steps to the street. Slipping into her winter dress coat and adding a filmy scarf that would serve as a shawl later, she grabbed her purse, locked the apartment door and slowly made her way downstairs.
Apparently, she had taken her pre-accident fitness for granted, bounding up and down the steep staircase several times a day. Tonight, by the time she made it to street level, her leg throbbed and she trembled. Fortunately, the uniformed driver was early and immediately opened the car door when he saw her appear.
Emma sank into the comfortable backseat and folded her hands in her lap, her heart racing. Like Cinderella being escorted to the ball, she wondered what lay ahead. No Prince Charming, that’s for sure. More likely a grumpy beast. Aidan had made his feelings clear.
Pulling onto the large flagstone apron that led to sweeping steps accessing the doors of the Silver Beeches Lodge, the driver halted the car and jumped out to come around and open Emma’s door. The scene that awaited her was magnificent. Two huge Fraser firs, adorned with white lights and silvery stars, flanked the hotel’s entrance. On the porch, a dozen more trees, each decked out as one of the twelve days of Christmas, cast a glow against the night sky.
Though the rain had stopped, the air was misty and cold, much too chilly to linger outside. Stepping into the lobby was equally impressive. Here, a Victorian holiday theme had overtaken the large public area. On a huge round table that normally supported a lavish flower arrangement in an ornate urn, poinsettias had been stacked in tiers to form the shape of a crimson-and-green tree.
Much of the traditional décor reminded Emma of
her childhood during the month of December. All she needed was a mince pie and some plum pudding and she would feel right at home.
A formal doorman took her coat and greeted her, directing her toward the ballroom at the rear of the main floor. Emma hesitated in the doorway, feeling abashed at the swirl of light and color and conversation. Gold and green festoons draped the room along the ceiling. Bunches of real mistletoe hung from curling red ropes. Twined in the quartet of chandeliers were narrow red-and-green-plaid ribbons.
Everywhere, the air carried the scent from great boughs of evergreens that adorned the massive fireplaces on either end of the room. Before Emma could turn tail and run, Mia spotted her and hurried across the floor, her smile infectious. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “Come let me introduce you to some of our friends.”
Dylan and Mia were well liked. Emma lost count of the townspeople she met. Fortunately, there were no seats at the family tables, so Emma courted invisibility by seating herself with a couple of business owners she had met soon after she’d moved in to her storefront.
Maeve had planned the evening to the last detail. First was a sumptuous four-course dinner, beginning with cranberry salad, then butternut squash soup, and finally, the entrée consisting of squab, asparagus with Hollandaise sauce, twice-baked potatoes and yeast rolls. The china, crystal, silver and napkins were impeccable.
By the time the sweet carts rolled out, Emma was stuffed, but not so much that she couldn’t enjoy a piece of pecan pie.
Her tablemates were chatty and kind, including Emma in their conversations. She found herself smiling for no particular reason except that she was happy to be there.
As the dessert course wrapped up, Dylan stood and, on behalf of Mia and himself, thanked the crowd for their gift donations. He named a total that made Emma blink. Not that she wasn’t accustomed to moving in social circles where fundraising dinners were de rigueur, but many of the Kavanagh party attendees seemed like ordinary people.
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