His Mistletoe Proposal

by Christy McKellen

‘Has that been your experience?’ he asked.

  She snorted. ‘It’s a bit different for me. Marketing isn’t the most sexy of professions.’

  ‘But it’s impressive how fast you’ve risen up the ranks.’ There was genuine warmth in that statement and she gave him a smile of gratitude for the recognition. It meant much more coming from him than from anybody else because it had been so hard-won.

  ‘I don’t know how you can work in a place like that day after day though,’ he said suddenly, frowning hard at the road ahead. ‘I think it’d probably kill me. The years I spent after university working for “the man” were the most miserable of my life.’

  ‘Yeah, well, there are great prospects for career development at my company,’ she said, feeling her shoulders stiffen at how forced that had sounded.

  ‘Is your boss still giving you a hard time?’ he asked after a pause.

  She shot him a startled look, anxiety rising like a heatwave up her neck. ‘Why do you ask that?’

  ‘The first time we met you mentioned that he wasn’t letting you do your job properly.’

  It came back to her now. She had told him that in her drunken stupor. Damn it.

  ‘It’s fine. I can handle it. I’ll win him over eventually.’ She wished she felt as assured as she sounded. Her sister might have got the looks and musical ability, but Flora had always been damn good at her job—that was her talent. Which was why this particular challenge to her self-confidence was so unsettling.

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ he said and the affection in his voice made her insides do a funny little dance of joy.

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ she said.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  When she glanced at him he turned to meet her gaze and gave her such a warm smile she thought she might combust on the spot.

  What was going on here? It seemed as though he was making a concerted effort to be nice to her now, but was she reading too much into it? Was it just because he was grateful that she’d invited him to spend Christmas with her?

  Or was he beginning to actually like her?

  ‘Hey, perhaps you could play some of your songs for me some time?’ she said, indulging an urge to maintain this new level of connection between them.

  He shrugged, seeming pleased by her interest. ‘Sure, if you like.’

  She did like. She did like a lot.

  ‘Great.’

  They sat in companionable silence for a while after that, listening to the radio, passing comment every now and again on a song or a news article. An hour away from their destination, Flora realised with a jolt of surprise that she hadn’t felt this relaxed for a very long time. It was actually really nice to have someone else take the wheel while she sat in enforced stillness for once.

  It was so pleasant she eventually dozed off, her dreams skating between memories from her life back in the States and the last few weeks she’d spent here in England. Then her dreams drifted to Christmases past, in particular the Boxing Day three years ago when she’d come downstairs in the morning and found her sister with an odd look on her face. Violet had laughed it off as a hangover from the heavy drinking the night before—the drinking that had sent Flora to bed early, leaving her sister and Flora’s fiancé, Evan, alone with each other.

  She’d known right then, deep down, what had happened. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

  Waking up with a jolt, she turned to look at Alex, who was frowning at the road in front of him as he navigated the windy A road towards her parents’ house. The feeling of dread that had been sitting heavily in her stomach for the last few days began to crawl up her chest and into her throat. She knew she should warn Alex about the sort of atmosphere he was going to walk into and reassure him that they wouldn’t have to stay for long.

  Sitting up straight and taking a fortifying breath, she turned to look at his profile, giving him a tight smile when he glanced over at her.

  ‘I should probably mention that my sister and her husband will be there as well tomorrow,’ she said, hearing a shake in her voice. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling hot and uncomfortable about what she was about to tell him.

  ‘Great, it’ll be nice to meet them too,’ Alex said breezily.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Did Amy tell you the story about me and my sister, Violet?’

  He glanced over and frowned, obviously picking up on her discomfort now. ‘No.’

  ‘Okay, well, I should warn you that there might be a slightly strained atmosphere between us.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  ‘Because her husband, Evan, is my ex-fiancé.’ She let that hang there for a second before continuing. ‘We went out for eight months about three years ago and we got engaged two weeks before I brought him home for Christmas to introduce him to my family. After meeting my sister on Christmas Day, he dumped me on New Year’s Eve so he could be with her instead. They got married just before I took the job in New York.’

  ‘I see.’ He nodded slowly, his expression neutral.

  ‘I just thought I should mention it because Violet has a habit of flirting with any man I bring home—then going out with them when they decide they like her better.’ She tried to sound offhand and jokey when she added the last part, but it fell totally flat.

  She sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to make out she hadn’t been heartbroken by it. ‘It’s been a bit of a repeating pattern, to be honest, going all the way back to our teenage years.’

  ‘And you think she’s going to hit on me?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past her, even with Evan there. She’s always been a terrible flirt. And you’re exactly her type. Musical and creative. And handsome.’

  The heat in her face intensified as she realised she’d inadvertently admitted to Alex that he was her type too. At least he had been until Evan had smashed her heart to pieces and ground it into the dirt with the heel of his rock star–wannabe ankle boot.

  ‘Take the next left,’ she said, pointing to the entrance to her family’s country pile, feeling nervous apprehension sink through her.

  ‘We’re here.’

  * * *

  They pulled up at the end of the sweeping driveway in front of what had to be a Grade II listed Georgian building, judging by the design of it. At a glance, Alex counted fourteen windows spread across three storeys. It was not so much a house as a small stately home.

  ‘Wow, what a beautiful place,’ he said to her.

  Flora smiled back, her expression a little strained. ‘Welcome to my not so humble abode.’

  Clearly the thought of coming home for Christmas wasn’t as joyful for her as it should have been.

  Getting out of the car, he stretched out his back, feeling blessed relief at finally being able to get out of the cramped driving position he’d been sitting in for the last few hours. Then he went round to open the door for Flora. He wanted her to know that he was here to support her too, but didn’t know how to put it into words without it sounding cheesy. He hoped his actions would speak for his intentions instead.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said with a smile, taking his proffered hand. He helped her stand up on the uneven gravel driveway in her heels.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, smiling back.

  It made total sense now why she’d taken so much satisfaction in sticking it to Tia and why she’d invited him to spend Christmas with her: solidarity. She knew exactly how it felt to be passed over by someone you thought cared about you, then be forced to keep on seeing them whilst at your most vulnerable. In Flora’s case the rejection and painful awkwardness seemed to have tainted her enjoyment of getting together with her family. He also suspected it had driven her to move all the way to the States to avoid it.

  Grabbing the cases out of the car, he slammed the boot sh
ut, then followed her as she walked stiffly over the gravel driveway towards the grand stone-pillared entrance to the house.

  Her mother must have heard the car pull up because, before they had even reached the door, she’d swung it open and pulled Flora into her arms with a squeal of delight.

  ‘Flora! It’s so wonderful to see you. Merry Christmas!’

  ‘This is Alex,’ Flora said, disentangling herself from her mother’s tight embrace and turning to gesture towards him.

  He walked up to where they stood, noting how much Flora looked like her tall, handsome mother, and held out his hand in greeting.

  ‘Thanks so much for having me over for Christmas, Mrs Morgan, especially as it was so last-minute. I really appreciate it.’

  To his surprise, she ignored his hand and pulled him into a tight hug too. ‘Call me Diana. We don’t stand on ceremony here.’ She cocked her head in a sympathetic manner. ‘Welcome to Winter Hall. It’s wonderful to have you here celebrating Christmas with us, Alex. I was so sorry to hear about Amy passing away. It must be devastating to lose a twin sister, especially when she was so young.’

  There was a heavy beat of silence in which Alex nodded in acknowledgement of her sympathy, his jaw clamping down hard as he pushed down the ever-present grief. ‘It was. But Flora’s been looking after me.’

  He turned to smile at her and saw a pink flush rising on her cheeks.

  ‘Er...well, we’ve been looking out for each other,’ she muttered, not quite meeting his eye. ‘Are Violet and Evan here yet?’ Flora asked her mother, glancing around as if expecting them to spring out at her at any second.

  ‘Not yet.’ She paused, then fixed Flora with a pleading stare. ‘Darling, please try and get on with your sister while you’re here,’ her mother said, her expression morphing into an anxious frown. ‘She’s not been herself recently. I think she and Evan might be having some problems, so she’s going to need our support.’

  ‘Like the way she supported me by whisking my fiancé away from under my nose, you mean?’ Flora said, her words heavy with irony.

  Her mother sighed. ‘Oh, Flora, please tell me you’re not still holding a grudge after all this time? You know she never meant to hurt you. Sometimes love works in funny ways.’

  ‘Yes, hilarious,’ Flora muttered, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on a peg by the door.

  Alex felt a sting of anger on her behalf. Clearly Flora’s mother had taken Violet’s side in all this, which had to make Flora feel as if her sister was the favourite child.

  There was the sound of wheels on the gravel outside and her mother turned away from them to hurry to the door and fling it open again.

  Alex took the reprieve to hang up his own coat and draw Flora to one side. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, searching her face for signs of distress.

  She nodded. ‘I’m fine, thanks. Just tired from the drive.’ Her smile looked strained though.

  ‘Is Evan not with you?’ they heard her mother say as she ushered Flora’s sister into the house.

  ‘We had a row and he refused to come, but I don’t want to talk about it right now,’ a soft, husky voice replied.

  As Violet walked into the wide stone-floored hallway, Alex felt his eyes involuntarily widen.

  Flora’s sister was stunning. She shone like the fairy light stars her mother had hung around the door frame, from the tips of her petite, stiletto-heeled boots to the ends of her sexily mussed-up baby-blonde hair.

  Violet came to a sudden stop when she caught sight of him and he could have sworn she deliberately straightened her spine as she flashed him an inquisitive smile. ‘Now here’s someone I don’t recognise. Who are you then?’ she asked as she sashayed towards him, all thoughts of her missing husband apparently gone now.

  Despite her beauty, there was something brittle and false about Violet that set Alex’s nerves on edge. This was a woman who expected to be adored. He had a sudden urge to put his arm around Flora and protect her from the discomfort she had to be feeling right this minute.

  ‘I’m Alex,’ he said, not bothering to add his relationship to Flora. For some reason he didn’t want to give her sister the satisfaction of knowing anything more about him.

  ‘I’m Violet, Flora’s sister,’ Violet purred back. ‘I know, we don’t look much alike,’ she added with a self-satisfied, conspiratorial smile, as if she found herself saying that on a regular basis.

  An irritated shiver ran down Alex’s spine.

  Seemingly unaware of her narcissism, Violet’s expression switched to one of pained distress, her large azure-blue eyes wide with sorrow. ‘I’m afraid my husband, Evan, has decided he doesn’t want to spend Christmas with me this year, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go up to bed.’

  She gave her mother a brief hug. ‘It’s been a hell of a day and I’m exhausted.’

  ‘Yes, of course, darling. Your room’s all made up. We’ll have a good chat about it in the morning.’

  Violet nodded, her shoulders dramatically slumped, then turned to shoot him a quick seductive smile. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Alex. I look forward to getting to know you better tomorrow.’

  They all watched her walk away and mount the wide oak stairway before turning back to each other.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ her mother sighed, shaking her head.

  Flora said nothing, just stood there stiffly.

  He noticed that her usually sleek hair was mussed at the back where it had rubbed against the headrest for the last few hours and he had to forcibly stop himself from lifting a hand to smooth it down for her protectively.

  ‘I think I might need to go to bed too,’ she said in a small, slightly strained voice, flashing him a look of apology.

  ‘Fine by me,’ he said. ‘I’m pretty beat from the drive, so I’m happy to crash now.’

  ‘Okay, well, Flora can show you where you’re sleeping,’ Diana said, giving them both a troubled smile. He guessed that this wasn’t the joyful family reunion she’d been hoping for.

  ‘Goodnight,’ Alex said to her, nodding his thanks. Then, grabbing their bags, he turned to follow Flora up the staircase.

  ‘Here you go, this is your room,’ Flora said, gesturing towards the first door at the top of the stairs. ‘I’m right next door,’ she added.

  Alex mentally gave the little voice the V-sign. There would be no sharing with Flora tonight then. Which was very much for the best. They would spend a lovely, warm and fuzzy Christmas together, then go back to their lives as even firmer friends.

  Not allowing his overwrought mind to turn that thought into something inappropriately smutty, he handed over her bag and bade her a friendly goodnight. Then he let himself into his room with a shaking hand and flopped onto the bed, pulling the pillow over his head and letting out a long, low groan.

  Tiredness. That was what this strange, nerve-filled tension was. He was tired, that was all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE NEXT MORNING Alex got up later than he’d intended after not sleeping well, despite the ultracomfortable bed he’d been given in the guest room. He stumbled down to the sunlit Breakfast Room to find Flora there drinking coffee and looking as though she’d been up for hours. Her hair appeared freshly blow-dried, her cashmere jumper and linen trousers were pristine and she was perfectly, and heavily, made-up. In stark comparison, he’d barely glanced in the mirror as he’d brushed his teeth and had only run his fingers quickly through his hair after showering before giving up on it.

  ‘Good morning, or should I say afternoon?’ Flora quipped good-humouredly, making a show of looking at her watch as he slumped into the chair opposite her.

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ he replied, looking around the well-appointed, high-ceilinged room that was empty of people except for them. ‘Is your sister not up yet?’

  She seemed to
bristle at the question. ‘No. She always sleeps in late.’

  ‘And your parents?’

  ‘They went to the morning church service.’

  A young woman with a kitchen apron wrapped around her waist came in and gave him a friendly smile. ‘What can I get you for breakfast? I can do eggs Benedict or a full English breakfast if you’d like.’

  ‘This is Penny, my parents’ housekeeper, who’s very generously agreed to do the food today,’ Flora said, giving the young woman a kind smile.

  ‘It’s actually my pleasure to be here,’ Penny said. ‘Anything to get away from the rows and tetchiness at home,’ she added with a grimace. ‘My parents don’t get on at the best of times and Christmas Day seems to bring out the worst in them.’

  ‘Well, in that case, I’d love eggs Benedict and a cup of very strong coffee if you’ve got some on,’ Alex said to her.

  Penny gave him a nod of approval and left the room. He yawned behind his hand, hoping she wouldn’t be too long with the coffee.

  ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’ Flora asked, her brow wrinkling.

  ‘Not really. It’s a very comfy bed,’ he added quickly when her face fell, ‘but I’m still having trouble sleeping for more than a couple of hours on the trot.’ He thought back to how he’d tossed and turned all night, his blood rushing with adrenaline and his mind whirring with tangled thoughts about Amy, his career, Tia and the band—and Flora.

  ‘I have some relaxation music I can lend you—whale song and pan pipes, very soothing,’ Flora suggested with a totally straight face.

  He fought back a look of horror and forced himself to smile at her instead. ‘Uh...no, I’m okay, thanks.’

  She flashed him a wicked grin, making it clear she was teasing him.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Very funny.’

  To his relief, Penny came back in then with a large mug of black coffee filled to the brim, which she placed in front of him.

  ‘You are a truly magnificent woman,’ he said to her, a little bemused to see a blush rise to her cheeks as she returned the smile, then scurried out of the room.