‘What? Oh, yes, yes. I think so.’ As Geraldine put the tray on her lap and bent and hugged her, Blossom tried to clear her mind. ‘I’m sorry I’ve slept so long,’ she said politely. ‘If you’d woken me I could have come down to breakfast.’
Geraldine gave her what Blossom could only describe as an odd look. ‘That’s all right, dear,’ she said. ‘The doctor said to just let you sleep as long as you needed it, when Zak called him the first morning after you got here.’
‘The first morning?’ Blossom glanced at the tray. A bowl of soup and two fresh rolls along with a cup of tea reposed on it. She had a memory of Geraldine helping her to sit up and practically feeding her soup before she’d snuggled under the duvet again. Had that been once, or had there been more times? A note of alarm in her voice, she said, ‘Geraldine, what day is it?’ There was something strange here, something not right.
‘Christmas Eve, dear. And a perfect one, I might add. The snow’s a foot deep outside, but it’s beautiful, crisp and white. No sludge. Mind, it’s still cold enough to freeze your ears off, so you’ll have to dress warm if you feel like a walk later.’
Blossom had only heard the first three words. Staring at the housekeeper in horror, she repeated, ‘Christmas Eve? But it can’t be. I can’t have slept two whole days away.’
‘And three nights.’ Geraldine beamed. ‘And I must say you look all the better for it. Scared me and Will to death, you did, when you first came in the door. And the weight you’ve lost! Not been on one of those silly diets, have you?’
Bemused, Blossom shook her head. ‘No, I was working…’
‘Do you remember your sister coming to see you?’
‘Melissa? Here?’ It was getting worse.
‘She didn’t stay long. Just wanted to satisfy herself you weren’t at death’s door, I think. She didn’t think you were properly awake, but she sat and held your hand for a bit.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ Blossom’s voice was dazed. ‘How can I have slept like this?’
‘Because you’ve worked yourself to a state of collapse, that’s how.’
The deep voice from the doorway brought both women’s heads swinging round. Zak looked back at them, his hands thrust in the pockets of black denim jeans and a scowl on his face.
Blossom blinked. He looked as though he was furious. ‘I didn’t.’ She stopped abruptly. She could hardly say it was her despair over losing him that had prompted the dramatic weight loss and sleepless nights. Perhaps better left as it was. ‘I just did what needed to be done,’ she finished weakly.
Geraldine tactfully withdrew, shutting the door behind her as Zak came further into the room. ‘They clearly worked you to death, and whatever you got paid it wasn’t enough. Damn it all, woman, can’t you see you nearly pushed yourself to a breakdown? The jet lag probably saved you in as much as it tipped you into such a deep sleep.’
No, you saved me. He looked so big and dark and handsome in his black jeans, and white shirt open at the neck. A monochrome of pure maleness with sky-blue eyes. Her heart actually ached, she loved him so much. And he hadn’t given up on her. She had done her worst, she’d walked away and told him there was no chance for the future, and still he had waited for her. What other man in the world would have done that? But she didn’t care about other men. She only cared about him. She had treated him so badly and made them both suffer because she was terrified to trust again. She was still terrified, if it came to it. But, having tasted what it was like not to have him in her life, she didn’t think she could go down that road again. So what was the alternative?
‘How do you feel now?’ He had obviously realised his sick-room technique left something to be desired. ‘More like yourself?’ he asked as he came to stand beside her.
She must have looked awful. Why was she destined to forever resemble something that had been pulled through a hedge backwards with this man? And why did he always have to look so incredibly good? Blossom swallowed. ‘Amazingly, considering how long I’ve been asleep, I still feel tired,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m back in the land of the living, if that’s what you mean.’
‘That’s what I mean.’ His voice was soft, very soft, and possessed of a quality that made her cheeks burn. ‘I’ve called myself every kind of fool the last couple of days for allowing you to drive yourself into the ground like that.’
She stared at him in astonishment. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
He shook his head, moving the tray from the bed before sitting beside her. Cupping her face in his hands, he held her eyes as he said, ‘It felt like it. Times were I nearly jumped on a plane and came to see you.’
She didn’t deserve him. And it still seemed impossible that someone like him could love someone like her. But he did. It was crazy, incredible, but he did. She felt something falling away from around her heart; the shell was breaking, and it was part joy, part pain. The old panic was still there, but it was receding.
He kissed the tip of her nose and stood up, and she felt like reaching out and asking him to stay. But she didn’t. She wasn’t there yet. Instead she watched him leave the room and shut the door quietly behind him.
She left the soup where it was, flinging back the covers and padding into the en suite where she surveyed herself in the mirror. She groaned softly. If he could look at her the way he just had when she resembled a pasty, wild-haired creature that was plain scary, she had to trust he loved her, didn’t she? She stared into the brown eyes in the mirror and they looked calmly back. Funny, when she didn’t feel calm inside. Anything but.
One hot shower later she felt more human, and after drenching her skin in creamy moisturiser she dried her hair into a silky bob framing her face and falling featherlike on to her shoulders. The last show had been in New York, and one of the models had insisted her own hairdresser tidy Blossom’s hair. He’d done a wonderful job, Blossom thought now, admiring the fact she had cheekbones for the first time in her life.
Once she was dressed she pulled back the curtains, letting out an involuntary gasp of delight as she did so. The trees and bushes were clothed in garments of white, which glittered crystal-like in the cold brightness of the winter sun high up in the blue sky. She could see where the two dogs had romped in the snow at some time, great canine footprints, and areas where they’d obviously rolled over and over marking the otherwise undisturbed purity. Suddenly she longed to be out in the fresh, biting air.
Picking up the tray—she was definitely off soup for the time being, but could murder a ham sandwich—she left the room, only to become transfixed at the top of the stairs as she took in the scene below. The hall was dominated by one of the biggest Christmas trees she’d ever seen, a festive vision of scarlet and gold, with baubles, tiny flickering gold candles and red ribbon. Fresh red-berried ivy was entwined the whole length of the staircase, and somewhere downstairs Bing Crosby was crooning about a white Christmas.
On reaching the hall, she stood gazing at the tree for a few moments, turning as Geraldine came towards her from the kitchen.
‘What are you doing out of bed?’ Geraldine chided, taking the tray. ‘We thought you’d get up later.’
‘I feel much better.’ It was true, she did, although slightly shaky. ‘Geraldine, could I possibly have a sandwich rather than soup?’
The housekeeper smiled. ‘You can have anything you want. We’re so relieved you’re on the mend. Why don’t you join Zak in the drawing room? I was going to get lunch in ten minutes, for twelve o’clock. I’ll call you through to the
dining room when it’s ready, or would you rather eat on trays in front of the fire? Being as it’s Christmas Eve and all?’
This was obviously a great concession, and, feeling like an indulged child, Blossom said, ‘On trays, if that’s all right. Isn’t everything beautiful? Do you always decorate the house at Christmas?’
Geraldine moved closer, her voice a whisper when she said, ‘Zak likes it. I think it’s something to do with never having Christmases as a
child, not family ones, anyway. He’s like a boy when we put the Christmas tree up, and there’s another one in the drawing room with the presents underneath it.’
Blossom smiled back at the housekeeper, but she felt like crying. She couldn’t bear to think of him as a little boy, unloved, unwanted. She’d had such a lovely childhood with her parents and Melissa, it had been everything it should have been.
As Geraldine bustled off back to the kitchen with the tray, Blossom stood a moment more looking at the tree. All that Zak had gone through could have made him a cold, bitter individual like his father, but, as he had told her before she had gone to America, he had chosen to let go of his past. And, if she wasn’t going to ruin what they could have together, she had to do the same. He’d had a whole childhood and youth involving years of neglect and misery to put behind him; she’d had just seven months of marriage to a man who wasn’t worthy to lick her boots. Zak was everything Dean hadn’t been. Dean wouldn’t have waited one day for any woman; he had been a man who had demanded slavish adoration as his right. For the first time since she had found out about Juliette, she found it in herself to pity the other woman.
Zak looked up as she entered the room, rising swiftly to his feet. ‘You look much better,’ he said softly, coming to meet her. ‘There’s colour in your cheeks again.’
‘I feel better.’ She glanced at the Christmas tree in the far corner of the room, which was only slightly smaller than the one in the hall. This one was decorated in green and white, tiny, glittering icicles and frosted-white baubles vying with garlands of green beads and tinsel. Beautifully wrapped presents in shiny silver paper tied with green and pistachio ribbons were piled beneath it,
and the mantelpiece above the blazing log fire was draped with a thick twisted garland of holly. ‘You like Christmas,’ she said quietly, bringing her gaze to his. ‘I can tell.’
‘I like this one.’ He reached out and drew her against him, his mouth covering her eyelids, forehead, cheeks, nose in small, burning kisses before he took her willing mouth. She lifted her arms and wrapped them round his shoulders, pressing into him, needing the physical closeness and the feel of his hard body against her softness. The kiss was deep, his tongue exploring the sweet intimacy of her inner mouth as he crushed her against him. Everything about it was right, they fitted together like two pieces of a jigsaw.
How could she have imagined she could live without his kisses? She had never known a kiss could be such an expression of intimacy until Zak had taken her lips. With exquisitely controlled sensuality he moved her against him, pleasuring her as well as himself as he wound their bodies into each other in a weaving, erotic swaying that had her straining against him in an agony of need. His thighs were hard against hers, his heart slamming against the wall of his chest, and she could feel the fine tremors shivering across the thickly muscled back and shoulders beneath her caressing fingertips. She breathed in the spicy male scent of him, intoxicated with pleasure.
‘The taste of you is like a drug…’ He continued to kiss her as he spoke, murmuring the words against her parted lips as he punctuated each word with a move of his hips. His hands splayed on her narrow waist before stroking up the sides of her body and moving to her breasts, rubbing the tautening nipples through the soft wool of her top with his fingertips.
Her nails were digging into his shoulderblades, and she moaned softly in her throat, oblivious of everything but what he was doing to her. He was breathing hard, the trembling in her body reflected in his, and she knew he was fighting for control even before he wrenched his mouth away, saying, ‘One more second and I won’t be able to stop. Do you hear me, Blossom?’
She heard him, but she couldn’t do anything about it. It took Zak stepping back a pace and putting her from him to bring her out of the feverish spell he had woven on her senses.
She looked at him, studying his face as though she had never seen it before. Beneath black brows his eyes were narrowed with the desire which still had him in its grip, and his mouth was tense with the effort it had taken to stop their love-making. He looked hard and strong and ruthless as he stood there, and maybe he was when the occasion warranted it. But with her he had always mixed his strength with gentleness and understanding. Just like her father had done with
her mother.
Two outstandingly handsome, charismatic men, separated by decades and destined never to know one another, but brothers under the skin in everything that mattered. How could she not have seen it before? Why had it taken months of misery and loneliness for her eyes to be opened? And what if he hadn’t loved her enough to believe for them both?
‘I love you.’ Suddenly they were the easiest three words in the world to say. ‘I love you more than I thought I could love anyone, and it frightens me to death.’
For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her because he didn’t move, didn’t speak, everything in him had stilled. And then he smiled, an incredibly sweet smile that broke her heart. ‘That’s my brave girl,’ he said softly, reaching forward and drawing her against him again, but gently this time. He held her as though she was fragile and breakable, which was exactly how she felt.
They stood together in the silent room, the glistening world outside the window casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings, and the log fire crackling and spitting in the big grate. Blossom let the peace steal over her. It was Christmas Eve, after all.
Eventually, light years later, he stirred. Looking down at her, he said, his smoky, sexy voice sending warm shivers down her spine, ‘I want you for my wife, Blossom. Nothing else will do. You do know that?’
She nodded. Finally she understood the sort of man he was. Loving her like he did, of course he would want the ultimate commitment. He was an all-or-nothing man.
‘So, Blossom White, will you marry me?’ he asked softly. ‘Will you share my life and let me share yours? Will you be the mother of my children if we are blessed with babies, and will you love me all the days of my life as I will surely love you?’
It was every bit as terrifying as she had expected it to be. But he knew how she felt, she could see it in his eyes as he willed her to trust him and take the final step. ‘Yes,’ she said tremulously, holding on to him like grim death. ‘Yes please.’ He was her destiny. She knew that at last.
‘And can it be real soon?’ His eyes were violet-dark. ‘I’ve waited long enough, and I can’t wait much longer.’
She smiled shakily. ‘You don’t have to wait,’ she said shakily. ‘I’d marry you tomorrow if I could.’
‘Christmas Day might be a bit of a problem, but by the end of the week there’ll be a ring on your finger,’ he promised evenly. ‘And I’m not letting you out of my sight until then. Just in case.’ His grip tightened to prove it.
She reached up, putting her lips to his. ‘There’s no “in cases” any more.’ Through a haze of tears she put her arms round him. ‘I love you, I’ll always love you. I’m not going to go anywhere unless it’s with you.’
He heaved an unsteady breath. ‘Now I know there’s a Santa Claus.’ And he kissed her.
The wedding took place on the day before New Year’s Eve at a quaint little country hotel, the owner of which was barely able to conceal his delight at having such an event in the quiet spot after Christmas and before the New Year celebrations. It was a very small affair, but no less the charming for that. The function room had been decorated from floor to ceiling with fresh, sweet-smelling white lilies and baby’s breath entwined with evergreens, the profusion of which turned it into an enchanted, perfumed arbour.
Harry was Blossom’s slightly reluctant page boy, and Simone, Rebecca and Ella ecstatic bridesmaids. The three little girls wore fluffy silver and cream fairy-tale dresses that they spent most of the time twirling round in, and Harry was very grown up and serious in a little suit with a cream waistcoat and pint-sized cravat.
There were only four adults besides the bride and groom at the ceremony and champagne lunch to follow, but that was
exactly how Blossom had wanted it. And Melissa, Greg, Geraldine and Will said it was the best wedding they had ever attended.
When Blossom walked down the tiny aisle hand in hand with Melissa she didn’t give a thought to the stiff, formal register office service of three years before. All her thoughts were reserved for the tall, raven-haired man waiting for her at the end of the room. Her cream silk-crepe dress with a fitted bodice and a small train had been bought the day before, along with the bridesmaids’ dresses and Harry’s suit, but if she had searched for months she couldn’t have found a frock more suited to her figure and colouring. She wore her hair loose and carried a small posy of one cream orchid surrounded by floaty feathers. Melissa was crying unashamedly as they reached Zak, but Blossom’s eyes were shining with love, her fingers caressing the tiny diamond brooch pinned on the bodice of her dress which Zak had given her the first evening they had spent together. The last few days had been beyond wonderful, and now they had a lifetime of loving in front of them.
Zak had pulled every string in the book to get the paperwork finalised in time, and now, as the small bespectacled registrar began speaking, the speed with which it had all happened and the awesome vows she was about to make hit Blossom anew. And then Zak squeezed her hand and she looked into the blue, blue eyes and the world righted itself again. As it always would with him by her side.
The wedding lunch was a happy affair, the adults laughing and talking, and the children playing with the sackful of new toys Zak had produced to keep them entertained once they had finished their meal. Will had brought along his camera to film the whole proceedings, and Blossom was glad of this; she was so happy, so giddy and high on love, she knew she wouldn’t remember half of the day once it was over. They were staying overnight at the hotel before flying to the Bahamas the next morning, where a friend of Zak had a sumptuous villa he was lending them for as long as they wanted to stay.
His Christmas Bride Page 16
