One Wedding Required!

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One Wedding Required! Page 9

by Sharon Kendrick


  ‘It’s going to grow even bigger if Jackson gets his own way about opening up a branch in New York.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he commented thoughtfully, and tried to stifle a yawn.

  She put her hand up to his mouth and he kissed each fingertip in turn.

  ‘Maybe you should skip having a New Year party this year?’

  He shook his dark head. ‘Then it wouldn’t be a proper Christmas, would it?’ he teased as he pulled her even closer.

  ‘Things have been crazy at Allure for too long now,’ he whispered against her ear. ‘I guess you shouldn’t knock success when it comes, but you spend a long time waiting for it to arrive, and when it does you realise that there’s a price to pay. And something has to give—’

  ‘But hopefully not you,’ she murmured into the warm haven of his neck.

  He didn’t answer for a moment. ‘Hopefully not me,’ he agreed.

  ‘I went to church while you were out,’ she told him suddenly.

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘And did you pray for forgiveness? ’

  ‘I prayed for your forgiveness!’

  He laughed at this. ‘Wise move.’

  Amber forced herself to ask the question which would demonstrate that she was a nice, rounded, thoughtful human being, instead of a mean-spirited and possessive one. ‘And did you...did you sort out the leaking ceiling okay?’

  He hesitated.

  ‘At the flat,’ she elaborated. ‘For Karolina and her mum?’

  There was a slight pause. ‘Yeah. An emergency plumber was arriving as I left.’

  ‘So soon?’ Amber was impressed. ‘How did you manage that?’

  ‘By promising to pay an exorbitant amount of money for his call-out fee,’ he told her drily. ‘Though, to be fair, who wants to be called out early on Christmas morning?’

  Resisting the impulse to say that he hadn’t minded, Amber delved deeper into her dwindling supply of kind-heartedness. ‘And w-what about lunch?’

  He looked surprised. ‘I thought you had all that sorted out?’

  ‘I have. I have. It’s just, I wondered what Karolina and her mother were doing. It won’t be much fun if they’re pulling crackers while water drips onto their heads!’

  He shook his head. ‘Oh, no—that’s okay. I already invited them, but they’re apparently going to eat a magnificent meal at the Granchester.’

  ‘Oh, what a shame,’ said Amber, with as much feeling as she could manage.

  He glanced over to the table, where the discarded blooms lay in a fragrant and psychedelic heap. ‘And, in the meantime, hadn’t we better do something with these flowers? Unless we want tulips sharing a plate with our turkey! Do you have a vase?’

  Amber forced herself to snap into festive mode. ‘I have several. But somehow I don’t think that several are going to be enough! Never mind—we can always use milk bottles! And I’d better start—this is going to be a long operation!’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ he said slowly, and she was aware that his eyes were following her almost obsessively as she moved across the room.

  They worked companionably, putting the flowers into any vessel which could conceivably pass as a vase until almost every surface in the flat contained a spray of blooms. It was a heady smell and an enchanting sight. Amber leaned back against Finn as they surveyed their handiwork, then gave a sigh of satisfaction.

  ‘Looks like a movie star’s boudoir,’ she observed.

  ‘Too much?’

  ‘Totally,’ she agreed gravely. ‘But if you can’t be extravagant on Christmas Day, then when can you? Speaking of which—’ She glanced down at her watch and gave a squeak of horror. ‘Oh, my goodness—look at the time! Ursula will be here soon and I haven’t even made the stuffing!’

  But he shook his head and took her by the hand. ‘Not yet,’ he said.

  ‘But, Finn—’

  ‘It’ll wait,’ he told her firmly as he led her over to one of the giant sofas.

  But Amber shook her head. ‘No, Finn, sweetheart,’ she objected reluctantly. ‘There isn’t time. Ursula will be here soon and I don’t want to be scrabbling around for my clothes when she does. Not on Christmas Day.’

  His smile was sadness and tenderness mixed. ‘You think that whenever I touch you I only want to make love?’

  She gave him a long look. ‘We-ll,’ she drawled, her mouth curving into an unstoppable smile. ‘Usually. Yes—I suppose I do. I think I’d probably worry if you didn’t.’

  ‘Well, you don’t have to worry, sweetheart,’ he murmured meltingly, as he sat down on the sofa and drew her onto his lap. ‘I’m not going to make love to you now.’

  ‘You’re not?’

  ‘Of course I’m not! You just told me that there wasn’t time—you contrary creature!’

  ‘You could at least try!’

  ‘You enjoy slapping me down, do you?’

  ‘Mmm. Damned right I do! I enjoy delayed gratification, too!’ She bared her small teeth into a mock snarl, then kissed the tip of his nose as she looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Well, if you haven’t brought me over here to make love to me, Finn—then just what have you got in mind?’

  There was a pause. ‘I just want to hold you,’ he said, in a voice which sounded laden with regret, and a brief foreboding flickered its dark shadow over Amber. She clung onto him like a limpet without knowing why.

  When Ursula rang the doorbell, bang on the stroke of midday, they were still sitting on the sofa together, wrapped in each other’s arms like teenage sweethearts.

  Amber wouldn’t let Finn get up—she didn’t want him seeing her present until she was ready. ‘You’ve got to stay right there and keep your eyes closed!’ she told him. ‘While Ursula and I bring your present in!’

  She opened the door to her sister, her eyes lighting up when she saw that Ursula had somehow managed to manoeuvre the carefully wrapped skis up the stairs.

  Amber put her finger over her lips. ‘How did you manage to get those up here without help?’ she whispered, trying very hard not to laugh.

  ‘A very helpful taxi driver,’ said Ursula, ‘who was obviously susceptible to generous female curves!’

  Amber ran her eyes over her sister, who was wearing a seasonal red jersey dress beneath her camel coat. The dress did make her look curvy, but the colour accentuated the dark sheen of her raven hair and the clear, berrystained beauty of her skin. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with health and life, and, not for the first time, Amber found herself silently cursing Ursula’s boss.

  If only Ursula would stop comparing all men to Ross Sheridan, Amber thought crossly—then she might be able to settle down with someone else and find contentment.

  ‘I’m not surprised he was so helpful,‘ commented Amber truthfully. ‘You look absolutely stunning!’

  ‘Do I? Honestly?’

  Amber knew a moment of sheer fury. Had no man ever complimented her sister? What was the matter with a society which only saw beauty as a universal shape which was contrary to a woman’s natural shape? ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’ She smiled. ‘Come on, let’s drag the skis in first—I left Finn sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed. If we stand here nattering for much longer he’ll have fallen asleep!’

  Carefully, they steered the garishly wrapped skis in through the front door, guided them round the old-fashioned hatstand, which Amber had bought and which Finn detested, until they brought them to a rest in front of the sofa.

  Finn lay on his back now, sprawled out with careless abandon, wearing the black jeans which were his trade mark—today teamed with a black sweater in the lightest, softest cashmere, which clung lovingly to every muscle and sinew of his hard torso. His dark head rested on a cushion of kingfisher-blue, and his face looked remarkably pale against the bright, intense colour. The ebony arc of his lashes only emphasised his pallor, and once again Amber vowed that—whatever Finn said about business projections—she was not going to let him work so hard, come the New Year.

  ‘You can open your eyes
now, Finn,’ she called to him softly, but he didn’t respond.

  Ursula frowned as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. ‘He’s fallen asleep,’ she observed in surprise.

  Amber shook her head. ‘No. He’s just pretending. He was awake just a minute ago.’ She winked hugely at her sister. ‘Do you think this bra is just too risque, Ursula? Shows too much of my breasts, do you think?’ But still Finn did not respond.

  Ursula leaned over him. ‘I tell you, Amber—he’s asleep. He’s not faking it.’ Her blue eyes twinkled in a determined attempt to hide her embarrassment. She might be the least worldly-wise woman on the planet, but even she knew what caused men to fall asleep so suddenly in the middle of the day. ‘What have you been doing to him?’

  ‘Nothing. I swear. He was awake just a minute ago.’ Confused, and feeling out of her depth, Amber bent over to give his shoulder a gentle shake. It took a couple of seconds before the sinfully long lashes fluttered open and his eyes focussed on her, first in befuddlement and then in a state of mystification.

  He sat up quickly. ‘What’s going on?’

  Amber clapped the back of her hand dramatically to her forehead and pretended to swoon. ‘Masked raiders entered the flat!’ she declared dramatically. ‘They coshed you over the head and then—’

  ‘What happened, Amber?’ he interrogated urgently.

  Amber blinked. ‘You fell asleep,’ she told him lamely. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘That’s all?’ He rubbed at his brow distractedly and gave a tiny shake of his head, as if trying to clear it. ‘What the hell am I doing, falling asleep in the middle of the day?’

  Ursula was watching them both very closely. ‘Do you feel okay, Finn?’

  ‘Of course I feel okay!’

  Amber squeezed his arm. ‘There’s no need to be so defensive, darling,’ she told him soothingly. ‘You’re obviously still jet-lagged.’

  His green eyes gleamed with a certain kind of relief. ‘Yeah,’ he drawled, and allowed himself a lazy yawn. ‘I always tend to underestimate the effect of crossing time zones.’

  ‘And you had that flu bug out in Australia,’ Amber put in. ‘And you were stressed out before you left!’

  Finn winked at Ursula. ‘See how decrepit your sister makes me out to be! Happy Christmas, Ursula!’

  Ursula gave a laugh. ‘Happy Christmas!‘ Her eyes sparkled. ‘I don’t think Amber thinks of you as particularly decrepit, Finn.’ She stared meaningfully at her sister, then at the cumbersome present still lying at their feet. ‘Not when you see what she’s bought you for Christmas!’

  Amber thought about picking the skis up, then thought better of it. ‘Happy Christmas, darling,’ she murmured as he looked down and noticed them at last.

  ‘What can these be?’ he mused, his grin all crooked.

  Sensing that Finn would want to start kissing Amber without an audience, Ursula beat a hasty retreat for the door. ‘I’ll bring the other presents in,’ she called, sniffing the air like a puppy as she went. ‘What a lot of flowers you’ve got, Amber! Who did they all come from?’

  Amber and Finn met each other’s eyes. ‘It’s a long story!’ they said, in unison.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AMBER bit into her croissant and black cherry jam squished out of the sides. She wiped her finger all along the jammy bulge and then licked it luxuriously, to find Finn leaning back against the pillows watching her, the newspapers lying in front of him unread.

  Thinking that the brooding look in his green eyes might be hunger of the more conventional nature, she offered him the croissant. ‘Like a bite?’

  He shook his head and a small muscle began to work in his cheek. ‘No, thanks,’ he drawled, and his eyes flickered over the plate she had balanced rather precariously on her knees. He frowned. ‘And I don’t particularly want jam and crumbs spread all over the sheets either, if you don’t mind, Amber.’

  Amber blinked at him in surprise. There was no need to say it like that! As though she were some incompetent little minion who was messing up his space! ‘Sorry!’ She thought how stony his voice sounded this morning! In fact, he’d been like a bear with a sore head ever since he had opened his eyes.

  Determined to wipe that rather sour look from his face, she fixed him with her most beguiling look. ‘Maybe I should have asked your permission to eat breakfast in bed,’ she joked purringly over her shoulder.

  He didn’t respond.

  She tried provocatively licking a sticky splotch of black cherry from the side of her mouth, her eyes fixed firmly on him as she slowly ran her tongue around her lips. It wasn’t the most original come-on in the world, but it was usually effective. And she badly wanted Finn to make love to her. He hadn’t touched her since Christmas Day. True, that was only three days ago—but that was a lifetime compared to the frequency with which they usually had sex.

  ‘Finn?’ she murmured softly, and she rested her elbow on her pillow as she turned to face him.

  ‘And now you’re scattering crumbs everywhere!’ he observed with a scowl.

  ‘That’s not what you used to say,’ she objected, hurt, and not caring if she showed it. ‘When we started living together!’

  His broad, naked shoulders were shrugged in a dismissive gesture. ‘We used to lie around in bed for days and have non-stop sex when we started our affair.’ He yawned. ‘But surely you’re not suggesting that we should spend the rest of our lives doing that?’

  She met the cool question in his eyes and was momentarily bewildered by it before answering him as honestly as she could. ‘Why not?’ she quizzed softly. ‘I’ve certainly no objections to doing that. Everything I’ve ever read about maintaining a successful sex-life says that you have to keep the interest alive. And if we like lying around in bed having sex all the time, then why change it?’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Amber—don’t be so naive!’ He ran an impatient hand back through his already ruffled dark hair. ‘Things can’t possibly stay the same! Relationships change—’

  ‘Just w-what are you saying, exactly?’ Amber demanded, suddenly feeling panicked—not so much by his words but by that unfamiliar look which had made his eyes appear positively glacial.

  He folded up his unread newspaper and placed it on the floor beside the bed. ‘I’m saying that when a couple start having an affair—’

  ‘I do wish you wouldn’t keep using that word,’ she interrupted crossly. ‘It makes what we’re doing sound illicit—and it isn’t! “Affair” is a word I associate with seedy little extra-marital relationships, and we happen to be engaged to be married!’ She waved her diamond ring under his nose to add weight to her argument.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Amber!’ he exploded. ‘Just stick to the point, can’t you? I did not intend for a simple request to reduce your crumb-scattering to develop into a discussion on semantics!’

  ‘Then just what did you intend it to develop into?’ she shot back icily. ‘A friendly conversation? A serene and trouble-free morning?’

  He sighed. ‘I was simply trying to explain that some of those little foibles of yours which I found so enchanting at the start of this relationship,’ he emphasised, with heavy sarcasm, ‘might have the ability to irritate me in the future, that’s all.’

  ‘That’s all?’ she repeated in disbelief.

  ‘Well, is it really such a terrible crime for me to suggest that you don’t spread crumbs and jam everywhere? Particularly in bed.’

  Amber’s eyes widened. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing correctly! This—this—coming from the man who used to ask me to spray whipped cream over certain parts of his anatomy and then spend as long as possible licking it off? You certainly weren’t bothered about the state of the sheets then!’

  ‘That’s different!’ he snapped back.

  ‘How is it different?’

  ‘When I started having sex with you—’ He must have seen the shocked look on her face, because he immediately amended his words. ‘Okay, honey—maybe I’d bet
ter rephrase that to your satisfaction. When I started having a relationship with you—’

  Amber’s skin crawled at the cavalier and sarcastic way he had chosen to describe her sexual awakening, and maybe that was what prompted her to say sulkily, ‘You mean—when you took my virginity?’

  Finn nodded slowly, his green eyes never leaving her face. ‘Yeah. I guess that’s one way of putting it—if you want to turn this into a power struggle,’ he drawled softly. ‘Although, as I recall, I didn’t do so much taking as you did giving—isn’t that right, Amber?’

  She supposed that if he had said it in a loving way then it might almost have been considered a compliment. But he didn’t say it in a loving way. In fact, he said it with all the repressed and negative emotion of a bank clerk informing a customer of an outstanding overdraft they had no hope of settling.

  ‘Well, it’s true that I must have made it transparently clear that I wanted you, but what did you want from our first encounter?’ she demanded. ‘A battle royal before my unwilling surrender?’

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Well, what, then?’

  He shook his head wearily. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does matter!’ She sat bolt-upright in bed and the plate went flying among the folds of the snow-white duvet.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ he observed caustically.

  But Amber could make out a certain sense of triumph in his words. Once upon a time he wouldn’t have even looked at the scattered bits of jammy croissant—he would have been too busy ogling the satin and lace of her creamy nightgown as it strained against the lush pull of her breasts. ‘Okay, you’ve won!’ she spat at him. ‘I’ll never eat food in bed again! Okay?’

  She fell back down again, burying her face in her pillow, disastrously close to tears, but she was confused more than anything else. Why was he acting this way? Chipping away at her composure? She held her breath, expecting him to start caressing her shoulders in the way he had done so often before if they had exchanged angry words.

  Yet these words seemed to have cut deeper than any previous ones had ever done. Even worse than the things they had said to one another on Christmas morning. She was left feeling as though she were stranded on a ledge, high up on a mountain, with Finn separated and miles away from her.

 

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