Heather Graham Pozzessere - The Christmas Bride

by The Christmas Bride

  It wasn’t her looks that had drawn his interests, for he lived in a world where women were often beautiful and sophisticated. It had been her determination in coming to him, her staying power when he had refused her.

  And then it had been the way she had gazed at him with glimmering gold eyes as she had told him bluntly that he wasn’t the only one who had ever lost someone. And he had been in a rut, one hell of a rut of self-pity. She hadn’t lifted the weight of the world from his shoulders, but her anger had done something, and since that day, life had been a little bit better. He’d made sure it was better. She’d made him see that it was something he had to do himself.

  That was why he knew about her. He’d had her personnel file on his desk within five minutes, so he knew that Richard Adams had walked into a burning building because he had heard a child crying, and that he had never walked out again.

  “Daddy?”

  He sighed. The very beautiful Mrs. Adams might have cast accusations at him, but she had a few failings of her own. He could almost guarantee that she would turn him down. She had the defenses of a porcupine.

  “I’ll try, Angela.”

  “Oh, thank you, Daddy!” She threw an arm around him and kissed him.

  “Hey! There’s traffic out tonight!” he warned her.

  “Sorry, Daddy!”

  But he caught the look in her eyes. She was smiling. She was radiant.

  He’d never seen her so happy or so excited.

  Jason tightened his jaw. Somehow he was going to have to get Mrs. Adams to agree to let Danny come with him.

  Even a porcupine had to have a chink in its armor somewhere.

  It was the very next Monday that Cary found herself summoned to McCready’s office.

  She had been looking through the photographs for a Valentine’s Day special when she sensed someone watching her. Gazing up, she was surprised to find June staring at her with a look that combined excitement and anxiety.

  “What is it?”

  “McCready’s office,” June said nervously.

  “What?”

  “You’re wanted. In McCready’s office.”

  Cary’s heart lurched. Was she being fired after all? Perhaps he really had been angry to see her sitting on Jeremy’s lap.

  “Now?” she murmured. Of course now! She rose from her desk and stared at June. Was this how people felt when they walked to the gallows?

  No, no, this wasn’t that bad! Even if he was firing her, it wasn’t anything as terrible as walking to the gallows. She was talented! She would find a new job….

  Just a month before Christmas. Danny would never get his computer.

  He couldn’t be firing her! Not right before Christmas!

  But despite his wonderful parties, McCready didn’t have any Christmas spirit. His spirit had been buried with his very beautiful wife.

  “I’m here for you,” June said to her softly.

  “I’m fine,” Cary muttered. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and walked from her office to the elevators. She stepped into an elevator and punched the penthouse-level button. Her fingers were trembling, she twisted them together.

  Stepping off the elevator, she saw Billy Jean Clanahan, McCready’s attractive and sophisticated secretary. She expected to see pity in Billy Jean’s eyes, but there was none. Instead Billy Jean greeted her with a wide grin. “Oh, good, you’re here!” She lowered her voice. “He was getting so anxious in there, I thought he was going to head down and accost you in your own office! Go in, go right in!”

  Cary had little choice, for Billy Jean was prodding her toward the door.

  She was pushed forward, and a door closed behind her. McCready’s dark head had been bent over the papers on his desk, but it rose instantly. His unfathomable green eyes were on hers, as he stood and walked around the desk, offering her his hand. “Mrs. Adams! Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  She wasn’t aware that she had offered her hand in return, but his fingers were folding around hers, and she was aware of an electric tension and tremendous strength. And a startling heat.

  She drew her fingers away quickly.

  “Sit down, Mrs. Adams, please.” He pulled out one of the chairs for her, and she sat, very aware of him behind her. He was always impeccable. It was a natural thing with him. And he carried that handsome, subtle scent of aftershave. She suddenly felt a warm flowing sensation cascading all the way down the length of her spine. Her fingers curled around her chair, and she caught her breath. She thought that she would leap up and scream, except that he came in front of her and leaned on the corner of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I have a favor to ask of you,” he told her.

  She wasn’t being fired. No one fired an employee this way.

  She exhaled, then gasped in new air. He was staring at her curiously, and she struggled for an appearance of composure. “A—a favor?”

  “Yes. And may I add from the beginning, Mrs. Adams, that your agreement or disagreement will have no bearing whatsoever on your position here.”

  He was smiling again, she thought. That secret smile of his.

  She felt herself flushing, and she sat more primly in the chair, her eyes lowering despite her determination. “I didn’t think—”

  “Yes, you did think,” he said, and she was startled when he laughed. She looked into his eyes, and she was further surprised by the light of humor in them. “You thought that I had decided to fire you because you had been sitting on Santa’s lap. Taking time away from the children. For shame, Mrs. Adams.”

  “Mr. McCready—” She started to stand, utterly humiliated. But his hands were on her shoulders, and his laughter was surprisingly warm and pleasant, even compelling, as he pressed her into her chair. “I understand that you and Jeremy are cousins, right?”

  Cary wet her very dry lips. “Yes. But if you—”

  “Mrs. Adams,” he said as he walked behind his desk, “do you remember the last time you were in this office?”

  Of course she remembered it. She would never forget. She was surprised, however, that he had remembered it.

  “Yes, Mr. McCready, I do remember,” she said with grave dignity.

  He was still smiling. “Well, you made a rather personal remark to me. You told me that I wasn’t the only one who had lost someone.”

  Cary felt as if she were strangling. More than anything, she wanted to get out of his office.

  “Look—” she began, standing once more. “I’m sorry, I really had no right—”

  But again he was before her. “Ah, but you took the right! Mrs. Adams, will you please sit?” She wasn’t going to have a chance to rise this time. Casually seated on the edge of the desk before her, he kept his hands on her shoulders. She looked at him, and to her great distress, she felt a heat like the warmth of the sun come sweeping over her. She didn’t remember ever being this aware of a man. There was little help for it. His bronzed hands remained on her shoulders. The fabric of his suit was nearly close enough for her to feel the texture. And she could feel that electricity emanating from him, the leashed but still powerful energy.

  “Mr. McCready—”

  “You saw fit to comment on my personal life, so I think that maybe I have the right to comment on yours. You are sensitive, Mrs. Adams. Very, very touchy. I’ve never met anyone so defensive, so quick. Will you please relax! Your work is very good, and I admire you very much as a person.”

  Stunned, she stared into his eyes. “Then…”

  “I’d like to borrow your son.”

  “My son!” she repeated.

  “Just for a week. And you have every right to say no, as I explained before. But I’d look after his welfare as if he were my own.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cary demanded in confusion.

  “I’m going on a ski trip next week. Half business, half pleasure. Angela is coming with me. She was entranced with Danny at the Christmas party.”

  “Oh!” Cary murmured. This
had nothing to do with her job. Nothing at all.

  And for once McCready was looking at her anxiously. She’d never before seen anything that even remotely resembled anxiety in his eyes.

  Something did matter to McCready, even if his wife was gone. Angela mattered.

  Dismay filled her. “I really am sorry—”

  “It would be a wonderful experience for him. As I said, I’d see to his safety at all times. Mrs. Adams, I’m aware that you do not particularly like me, but Angela has not been so enthused since…well, it’s been a very long time. She hasn’t been so excited about anything since her mother died. If you feel some bitterness for me, I implore you, think of the children.”

  Cary shook her head. “No, no! It isn’t anything like that at all. It’s just that—Danny is diabetic. He is very good with insulin shots himself, but he’s still…he’s still a little boy. And when he’s away, when he becomes involved in playing, he can forget. Really, Mr. McCready, I’d love him to be with Angela, she’s a beautiful child. If I could let Danny go, I would.”

  She was touching him, she realized. While she had been speaking, she had let her hand cover his to emphasize her sincerity.

  She jerked her hand away, and her eyes fell from his. “I am sorry.”

  He moved, first walking around behind her, then behind his desk. He sat and idly tapped a pencil against his blotter. “If that’s your real reason, there’s no problem at all.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You can come, too.”

  “Oh, but I can’t. Really, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I have work here—”

  “You can work in New Hampshire.”

  “But I may need things that are here—”

  “They can be expressed or faxed.”

  It was so simple for Jason McCready. Everything was always at his fingertips. Well, she wasn’t.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh,” he murmured. “Well, if you’re involved with someone…”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that!” she protested. Then she was furious with herself because she had just admitted to this man that there was no one in her life.

  She stood up. “Life just isn’t like that!” she exclaimed. “You don’t live in the real world! No one else can just snap their fingers and have whatever they want!”

  He looked at her with a slow, rueful smile curving his lips. “I do live in the real world, Mrs. Adams. I once swore to God that I would trade anything I had if Sara could just breathe, just speak, one more time. It didn’t happen. I’m very aware that the world cannot always move my way. There were two reasons I pulled it all back together, Mrs. Adams. This business, for one. Almost a hundred people are dependent on it for their livelihoods. And I held it together for my daughter. I’m not doing anything terrible here. I’m asking you and your son on a week’s skiing trip, and you might just forget yourself long enough to allow the both of you to enjoy it!”

  Cary didn’t know what was disturbing her so much. She leaped to her feet. “I’m sorry!” she snapped again.

  And then she spun and hurried out of the office as fast as she could.

  June was eagerly awaiting her downstairs, but Cary couldn’t talk to June. She rushed past, shaking her head and casting her friend a look that promised she would explain later.

  “Were you fired?” June called as Cary hurried by.

  “No!” Cary said. She closed the door to her office and leaned against it, looking at her hands. They were shaking.

  What was wrong with the idea? Jason McCready had asked her and Danny on a nice trip. She should be grateful and go. Skiing in New Hampshire. It would be beautiful. The snow would be all over the ground. The lodges would all be decked out in their Christmas finery.

  She closed her eyes. She knew why she had said no. She didn’t want to be somewhere like a beautifully decorated ski lodge. Not with Jason McCready.

  Because she found him way too interesting. She had liked him better when he had been entirely cold and distant. She didn’t like seeing into any part of his personality.

  She was becoming more and more aware…

  Of him as a man.

  The phone on her desk starting ringing. She walked over and picked it up.

  “Cary Adams here.”

  “Please?”

  The voice was low, deep and very rich. And she was startled when she felt a smile curve her lips.

  “It’s just not possible. I’m sure that it’s very crowded this time of year. I’ll never be able to get accommodations—”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “It can’t be that easy—”

  “Yes, it can.”

  “But—”

  “Mrs. Adams,” he murmured wearily, “I own the lodge.”

  “Oh,” Cary replied softly.

  “Well?”

  “I…” She hesitated again. There seemed to be every reason in the world for her to go. Danny would be delighted. And she would please Angela McCready, and Angela seemed like such a sweet little girl. There was no reason at all that she shouldn’t go.

  Yes, there was. McCready himself.

  He hadn’t made any illicit overtures toward her, she reminded herself dryly. He hadn’t made any overtures at all.

  Still, there was something…

  “Mrs. Adams?”

  “All right. All right, we’ll come.”

  “I’ll pick you up at your house on Sunday morning. Nine o’clock. Is that all right?”

  Her palm was damp, Cary realized. “Yes,” she said. Sunday morning.

  What had she done?

  Sunday morning came, and Cary waited anxiously for nine o’clock to come. How did Jason McCready travel? Would he pick her up with an entourage? In a limo? Maybe a Mercedes. No. A Rolls.

  “You all right, Mom?”

  She was looking out the apartment window, and she would have been chewing her nails if she hadn’t already donned her gloves. Bless Danny. He thought it was the most natural thing in the world that her boss should have invited them on a ski weekend. Oh, the innocence of children!

  But then, she had been the only one to see anything at all wrong. June had been ecstatic. “He likes you, kid, he really likes you!” And then, in the middle of Cary’s office, she had loudly said “Hmm! He’s definitely tall, dark and handsome!”

  “And a recluse. And deeply in love with his deceased wife,” Cary had remarked flatly.

  “Well, look at that, will you? You’re deeply in love with your deceased husband, he’s deeply in love with his deceased wife. What a couple.”

  “We’re not a couple at all. I’m certain he’ll have a date up there for…well, for some function. I’m just going as…as…”

  “The nanny?” June had suggested drolly.

  “Right. The nanny,” Cary had agreed sweetly, making a face.

  “Well, we did order tall, dark and handsome for Christmas. And he’s rich, too.”

  “We didn’t order tall, dark and handsome. You did,” Cary had reminded her.

  “That’s right. According to Jeremy, all we needed to find for you is someone who doesn’t wear his boxer shorts pulled up over his belt.”

  “Would you get out of here, please?” Cary had moaned.

  “Hmm,” June had speculated again. And Cary had thrown her out of her office as nicely as she could.

  But now that the time was coming nearer and nearer, Cary was nervous. She might have been invited because of Danny, but Jason McCready had never suggested that she was along to play nanny for the children.

  But then, she wasn’t one of his real guests, either. So where did that leave her? And why did she care so much?

  She leaned her forehead against the windowpane and felt the searing cold come through. Her stomach was in knots, she was so nervous.

  Too sensitive. And defensive. She had to relax. Well, she would try.

  A Jeep Wagoneer pulled up to the curb as she stared out the window. Her eyes wid
ened when she saw the very tall figure of Jason McCready slide from the driver’s seat.

  He was in blue jeans and a leather jacket, hatless despite the cold. He looked up and managed to find her face right there in the window. His dark hair was out of order, lifted by the wind, falling over his forehead, and his eyes were very bright. Instinctively, Cary wanted to withdraw. But he had seen her, and he was smiling. Then he waved, and her heart turned another little somersault, because she suddenly realized just how attractive a man he was.

  She smiled. So much for the Rolls, the limo or the Lincoln. He’d come in a Jeep.

  “He’s here!” Danny shrieked delightedly.

  “Yes, yes, he’s here. Grab your bags, Danny. And don’t scream quite so loudly, or we won’t last the first day!” she advised him. But Danny wasn’t chastised. He cast her a lopsided grin, his eyes alight with pleasure. He scooped up his duffel bag and headed for the apartment door, casting it open just as Jason McCready appeared before it.

  “Well, I was about to ask if you were ready or not, but it appears that you are,” he told Danny.

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I’m ready. This is great! Just great. Did I say thank you?”

  Jason McCready seemed pleasantly amused. “Yes, you did. And I thank you for coming. Angela is very excited. She’s in the car. Want to take your things and run on down? I’ll get your mom’s bag.”

  Danny ran out, and Cary found herself face-to-face with Jason McCready. She moistened her lips, alarmed that she was so nervous.

  It seemed that she stood there forever, feeling those green eyes touch down on hers. And despite the cold of the day, she felt a warmth creeping swiftly through her.

  “Is that your only bag?” he asked.

  “What? Oh, yes, that’s it, thank you,” she murmured.

  He collected her bag. As he did so, his eyes swept the apartment.

  She loved antiques, and they fit well with her building, a three-storied federal brick that had been built in the early eighteen hundreds. The parlor was a compilation of Edwardian and Victorian pieces she had lovingly stripped and stained and polished herself. A braided rug covered the floor before the fireplace, and a deep old leather sofa was covered with an afghan. Little copper pots and other bric-a-brac decorated the buffets and cabinets. Blue and white Dutch patterned draperies hung at the windows. It wasn’t contemporary; it probably wasn’t in the least what Jason McCready was accustomed to. But it was a warm and very inviting room.