‘We could decorate one outside.’
‘Wouldn’t the bears eat the baubles or something?’
Justin laughed. ‘There are no bears. Just tourists and skiers.’
Isla shook her head. ‘I’m happy for nature to be natural. Let’s just decorate in here with the tinsel and then go for that walk.’
They used every scrap from the boxes and draped it wherever there was a hook or a space throughout the ground floor. It wouldn’t win any style awards but it was suitably twinkly and festive by the time they’d finished. And there had been moments that Isla couldn’t ignore – a brush of the hand here, a lingering look there, a proximity as they passed each other in the kitchen – that had her heart beating a little faster. As much as she’d wanted to deny it, the chemistry was most definitely there. What was the protocol around dating cousins that weren’t really cousins? Never mind dating, what was the protocol about mindless, rampant sex on the living-room floor? It had obviously been far too long since her last man because by the time they’d begun to pack away the baubles it was all she could think about. Which was ridiculous and had come from nowhere. Why would she even be having these thoughts, if not for the fact that she was alone in a gorgeous house in the middle of an idyllic town, with a handsome and charming man and starved of sex to the point where she might have forgotten where her bits were? Was this why she’d said yes to him when she’d said no to Seb? Because she fancied him and Seb was… what was Seb? Slightly less of a sex god? Justin had nothing to hide – his fitted T-shirt showing the goods in full and very attractive view.
She chided herself. This, whatever it was, was not going to happen. So she dashed for her coat the minute they were finished and waited on the porch, certain that the freezing air outside would do something to cool her ardour. But when he came out to join her and they made their way down the steps, like an idiot she tripped. He caught her as she fell, grinning down into her face as if he thought that this was a game designed to get his attention. She had to wonder if, at some unconscious level, it was. But she shook the idea off. She wasn’t that sort of girl.
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped as she righted herself, and as she glanced back she saw his smile widen. ‘Which way are we walking?’ she added, annoyed more with herself than him. He was a bloke, so he had an excuse, but she didn’t.
‘As we have walked through the town perhaps you would like to walk away from the town a little?’
‘Perfect,’ she said before stamping off ahead. Laughing, he caught her up and fell into step alongside.
‘Why are you unhappy?’ he asked.
‘Am I? I don’t think so.’
‘Is it because you fell down the steps? Or because I might have persuaded you to love your grandmother’s house and you don’t want to admit it?’
‘Both,’ she said, and the sound of his laughter echoed across the frozen clearing.
‘Bon. Perhaps if I try harder you will decide to stay.’
‘Stay where?’
‘In St Martin of course.’
‘Would that matter?’
‘It might.’
‘Why on earth would you care if I stay or not? It wouldn’t change your life.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Is that all you can say?’
‘In answer to that particular question, yes. What do you want me to say?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Can I speak when I need to give instructions?’
‘Yes.’ She bit back a smile. ‘But only in a life or death situation.’
‘OK.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘You are a mystery.’
‘Am I? In what way?’
‘I cannot tell whether you hate me or want to make love to me.’
Isla’s head whipped round and she stared at him. ‘I can assure you it’s not the latter,’ she replied haughtily.
‘So, you hate me?’
‘No…’ Isla shook her head forcefully. ‘I didn’t mean that. I only meant I don’t want to do the other thing.’
‘Make love?’
‘Yes, that one.’
‘Not even a little?’
‘No. And I think it’s a very arrogant presumption on your part.’
‘Then I am sorry. I had a very different idea.’
‘I’m afraid you did.’
‘If I kiss you now you will not like it?’
‘I’d punch you in the face and run back to my hotel.’
‘Perhaps I will not kiss you then.’
The smile itched at Isla’s mouth.
‘You like the house?’ he asked.
‘Of course I like the house. I mean, who wouldn’t?’
‘You will talk to your father about the will?’
She let out a sigh. ‘Yes, you played your part well. You can tell him that your little ruse worked.’
‘It wasn’t a ruse. Yes, the plan was to make you fall in love with the house but that was not all I wanted. I wanted to spend some time with you.’
‘I should double any reward you’ve been promised for that hardship alone. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been told I’m not an easy woman to live with.’
‘I am not living with you. But I would like to know you better.’
‘Was this part of the plan?’
‘No, but the plan changed when I met you.’
Isla mused silently as she cast her gaze over the frozen ground. It wasn’t yet evening but the sun was already low in the sky, a blazing brass orb sinking quickly below the horizon, and with it the temperature dropping by degrees as they spoke. She could no longer tell with him what was genuine and what was artifice. He’d been in cahoots with Ian, that much was obvious, and he must have been promised something for his efforts, despite his denial. But she couldn’t have read the other signals wrong. He was interested in her beyond the inheritance and she was interested in him too, but where did that leave them?
‘It’s freezing,’ she said, hugging herself.
‘It can become cold very quickly when the sun goes down,’ he said. He pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said in answer to her silent question, ‘I’m just trying to keep you warm. You want to go back?’
‘We’ve only just got out.’
‘But you’re cold.’
She nodded, unable to deny it.
‘We can come back if you want to take a longer look. Perhaps you can spare the time before you fly home.’
‘I suppose I could. I have a couple of days yet.’
‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked.
She paused and then nodded, wondering at the wisdom of the reply she was about to give. ‘I don’t know. I’ll let you know how I feel.’
‘If you want to see something new tomorrow that’s easy to do,’ he added, ignoring her vague response. ‘Do not answer now. Whatever you want we can do. You have my phone number.’ He offered an arm and she took it. ‘We will return to the house now.’
CHAPTER TEN
Ian had sounded thrilled when she’d phoned him with her thoughts on Serendipity Sound once Justin had walked her back to the hotel. But then Isla supposed he probably was; it looked as if he was going to get his inheritance after all. Back in her room after a quick drink with Dahlia, she stood in front of the mirror and straightened her shirt over her jeans. She’d agreed on the phone to another dinner with Ian, Celine and her half-siblings and was worrying now whether it was the right decision. It was a shame Justin couldn’t come – he was about as close to an ally that she had here in St Martin and she would have felt better with him there. As steadily as her shaking hand would allow, she carefully applied a slick of claret lip gloss and stepped back to appraise her reflection. It wasn’t exactly high glamour but considering her limited travel supplies it was as good as she was going to get.
‘Come on,’ she told herself, rolling her shoulders like a boxer about to enter the ring for the fight of his life. ‘You can do this.’
And in many ways, a boxing match wa
s what she felt she was walking into. Only she didn’t stand a chance as one against four. Celine and Ian had invested in Grandma Sarah’s house and surely they weren’t going to let it go without a fight? Was that a fight even worth having? Isla didn’t blame them one bit and she’d rather deal with it all openly than have them scheme and trick behind the scenes to reclaim the inheritance they must have felt was rightly theirs.
‘You have yourself a good evening.’ Dahlia smiled as Isla passed the reception desk. ‘Going out to dinner?’
‘Thanks,’ Isla replied. She paused. She’d wanted to talk to Dahlia the day before about what was going on with her dad. Something about her invited trust, and Isla didn’t doubt that she had a stock of good, sage advice to hand out too where family matters were concerned. And perhaps sharing it might simply lighten the burden. She glanced at her watch; she had ten minutes to spare and perhaps that was enough. But then a movement from the corner of her eye made the decision for her as she looked round to see Seb coming back in. Judging by his red nose and ruddy cheeks he’d been out in the snow for some time.
He shot an awkward smile at Isla.
‘Sebastian… Did you have a good day?’ Dahlia asked.
‘Very good,’ Seb replied, pulling off thick gloves and rubbing his hands together. ‘Perfect conditions really.’
‘You were working?’ Isla asked. She wasn’t sure she was meant to ask after the last time she’d seen him but it seemed rude not to. Besides, she’d since decided the easiest way to deal with a mortifying moment was to pretend it didn’t exist.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got a lot to do before I go home for Christmas.’
‘You’re still leaving us on Christmas Eve?’ Dahlia asked. ‘I can’t persuade you to share a turkey with me here?’
Seb smiled. ‘I’d love to,’ he said. ‘But my flight is booked now and I’m not sure the university would be happy with me wasting their research grant on empty plane seats.’
‘Well, I tried.’
‘And a valiant effort it was too,’ Seb replied. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think the shower is calling my name.’
With another fond smile for Dahlia and a courteous nod to Isla he made his way to the lifts.
‘He’s one in a million,’ Dahlia said in a low voice as she watched him go. ‘Good breeding always shows, and he has plenty. His parents must have thought they’d brought an angel down to earth when they got him.’
The way Isla saw it, there was no such thing as good breeding, only lucky breaks where some kids got dealt a good hand and some kids got the shit one. Seb had obviously been brought up in a loving, stable, affluent home and he’d reaped the rewards of that by being a stable, affluent and successful member of society. If he’d been subjected to her childhood, maybe he wouldn’t be quite so bow-tie-wearing clever-clogs chipper. Breeding had nothing to do with it – and angels even less so.
She thought all this, but it was best to keep it to herself. Instead, Isla gave Dahlia a tight smile. ‘I’m eating out if that’s OK so I won’t need a table for dinner.’
And with Dahlia’s acknowledgement, she headed out into the night.
Barely fifty yards from Residence Alpenrose, Isla was regretting not having something more positive to say to Dahlia about Seb. Sometimes she couldn’t help being snappy and, what was worse, she knew it. Her current mood didn’t bode well for the meeting she was heading off to, although the meeting did have a lot to do with her mood in the first place.
As she made her way to the restaurant she tried to force some positive thoughts. The only thing worse than a head full of bitter thoughts was a mouth full of bitter words.
Five minutes down a surprisingly busy street and Isla stopped in front of a glowing frontage. The building was a traditional alpine construction, like so many in St Martin, the signage neat and subtle and the windows dressed in tasteful Christmas décor – a richly jewelled garland on the front door and ice points of lights threaded along the eaves. Above the door hung a picture of a cow wearing a ski jacket and holding a knife and fork. A final brief pause, where she glanced up and down the street and considered her options for escape, and then Isla went inside.
It was a fairly traditional steakhouse, like so many that she’d seen back in England. She stood at the doors and took a deep breath. A waitress scooted over with a broad smile.
‘I’m with the McCoy party,’ Isla said, hoping the waitress spoke decent English. If she was going to be visiting more often, then she was going to have to improve her language skills.
The waitress flung a hand towards the far end of the restaurant. ‘They’re right over there,’ she replied in perfect English, much to Isla’s relief.
‘Thank you,’ Isla said, looking to where the waitress had pointed.
It took a moment of searching but then she saw the table. They hadn’t yet noticed her come in, and not for the first time that evening she was half tempted to turn back towards the hotel, especially given the way their last meeting had ended. But she knew that, as much as she craved the amiable chat and ready supply of booze of Dahlia’s bar right now, she had to do this.
Ian looked up and met her gaze with an anxious half-smile. He got up from the table and the rest of the family watched as he made his way over.
‘Thanks for calling me today,’ he said, swinging awkwardly towards her as if he might kiss her on the cheek before backing off again at the last second. ‘And we’re all really glad you’ve agreed to meet us again. I think maybe this will be easier than the last time – more relaxed. I mean, we would have asked you to dinner at our place but…’
Isla forced a smile. ‘Don’t worry – I think this is perfect. A neutral venue was a good idea.’
He indicated the table with a sweep of his hand. ‘So, shall we try again? Have another crack at getting to know each other?’
‘We can certainly try,’ Isla replied carefully, making her way over as he followed. At the table Celine stood up and kissed her lightly, her daughter Natalie doing the same while Benet pulled out a seat for her. Isla had to wonder if their greetings had been discussed and staged, particularly when she thought back to the way they’d reacted when they’d first met her. Benet looked far from comfortable with his act of chivalry and he sat back in his own seat with a thud as soon as he could. Isla reached for the carafe of water in the middle of the table to pour a drink, her mouth already dry.
‘Have you enjoyed your day?’ Celine asked.
Isla nodded. ‘The house is beautiful.’
‘So you went with Justin?’ Ian asked.
‘Yes. He showed me around – the place is amazing.’
‘It is,’ Celine said. ‘We love it very much.’
All eyes were on her, waiting for something else. What did they want her to say? That she was sorry she was getting their gorgeous house? The one they’d spent a small fortune on in the assumption that it would one day be theirs? Perhaps she might as well get it out of the way now or the question would hang over the gathering like a storm cloud.
‘Look,’ she began, ‘I know things aren’t how you’d imagined they would be. God knows I’m more surprised than anyone. If anyone had asked me a month ago whether I could imagine sitting at the table with you all, I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea. But we’ve been forced into it and we have to deal with it. So I want to propose something…’ She took a deep breath. She’d thought long and hard about this decision once Justin had left her that day, and it probably wasn’t the one they’d been expecting. ‘I’m happy to fulfil the conditions around the inheritance to the letter, but no more. And when all the property is handed out and Mr Rousseau’s happy that Grandma Sarah’s wishes have been carried out, then I’m going to hand the chalet to you and go home. I don’t wish you any ill – any of you – but I don’t need the extra complication in my life. I can’t afford to keep a house like that and I certainly can’t afford to visit it. However, I don’t see the point in stopping your inheritance coming to you an
d, in fact, even I can see that would be downright mean. And I don’t want to profit from the house you’ve spent so much on.’
Ian exchanged a look of confusion with Celine.
‘Well, that’s noble of you, but—’
‘I don’t want to hear you say you don’t want it, because I know you do. I know you spent a great deal of money renovating it and even if you don’t want it perhaps you need it.’
‘Justin told you this?’ Benet asked, suddenly bright with interest. At least, if not bright, certainly the most animated Isla had seen him. ‘He told you about the renovations?’
Isla nodded.
‘You are a good and kind person.’ Natalie beamed, and she looked across at Celine for agreement. But the smile Celine returned was strained.
‘You would regret this decision,’ she said.
‘I wouldn’t. What you never had, you never miss – that’s what they say, isn’t it? Well I never had it to miss, but you did. Sort of. So I’m giving it to you.’ Isla pressed the glass of water to her mouth again and took a gulp. Why did they insist on making this more difficult than it had to be? The decision she’d taken hadn’t been made lightly but it was still hard. Of course she wanted Serendipity Sound – who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t rightfully hers and she wanted to do the right thing.
‘That’s just it,’ Ian said. ‘You can’t give us Serendipity Sound. Part of my mother’s deal is that you can’t give it to us.’
‘But I thought I could do what I wanted with it?’
‘You can. Almost anything. But not that. I guess my mother knew how it might go. We’ve checked with Grover – believe me, we’ve checked every line of that will – but there’s no way around it. I think she meant to make amends for the past and that’s the only way she knew how.’
‘I can sell it then?’
Ian shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe.’
‘Then I can give you the money from the sale.’
‘I’m not sure how that works,’ Celine put in. ‘It might void our claim on the rest of the estate if it came to light. I will not lie, we are unhappy about losing the house, but there’s just no way around it. You have to accept the terms of the inheritance if any of us are going to get our share.’
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas: A wonderfully festive feel good romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 2) Page 11
