Heather Graham Pozzessere - The Christmas Bride

by The Christmas Bride

  He didn’t comment on it, only said, “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. “You’re not going off into a den of lions, you know.”

  She arched a brow and stiffened. Jason McCready’s smile deepened. There was no way, of course, that she could know that he was thinking that the spines of his little porcupine were already bristling away.

  Cary hurried through the door.

  She also didn’t realize that, as she brushed by him, he breathed in the clean scent of her hair. Or that the subtle charisma of her perfume trailed sweetly through the air.

  She was just too aware herself. Of Jason McCready. Big, so very tall in her antique doorway, his shoulders exceptionally broad and attractive in the leather jacket.

  She would certainly have no complaints if she was dating this man, she thought. His underwear was not pulled well over his belt line. His belt line was perfect. All of him was perfect.

  That wasn’t fair. She knew a lot of attractive men, and she had been teasing about the underwear. It had very little to do with looks. McCready’s appeal was all in his eyes, in the little line around them, in the richness of his voice, in his rare smile….

  And then she nearly gasped aloud. She wasn’t dating Jason McCready. She was accompanying her son on a trip to the man’s ski lodge!

  With her cheeks flaming, she hurried down the stairs. By the time she reached the streets, she thought she had regained a little of her composure.

  The kids were already in back, chatting away. Angela leaped from her seat while Jason packed Cary’s bag in the rear of the vehicle. She threw her slender little arms around Cary, so giving, so trusting. “Thank you! Thank you so much for coming. Daddy said you might not let Danny come along, but I knew you would. I’m so glad that you’re going to be with us!”

  “Thank you,” Cary murmured. Jason was coming round to open her door. She stared at him, and he shrugged. She hadn’t realized that he knew her well enough to warn his daughter that she might very well refuse.

  The passenger door was open, and he was waiting. She slipped into the Jeep, and the door closed behind her.

  Jason McCready went around and slid into the driver’s seat. A plaid thermal blanket lay on the seat between them. He flashed Cary a quick smile. “It’s a long drive. About three hours. Just in case you get cold.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  There was very little traffic, even in Boston. The kids chatted away while Jason expertly steered the large vehicle through the narrow streets, past the Common and toward the turnpike.

  “Do you ski?” he asked Cary. She shook her head. He shrugged. “Well, we can solve that in a week.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Really,” she murmured. “You don’t have to worry about entertaining me. I’m just along for Danny. I’ll be all right.”

  She nearly jumped a mile when his arm stretched out across the seat and his fingers curved around her neck. He flashed her a very quick smile.

  “Relax, Mrs. Adams! It is a ski lodge. It’s where people learn to ski. And you and Danny are both my guests, I’m very much hoping that you’ll enjoy yourself.”

  The most absurd sensation swept through her. Tears stung her eyes, and she suddenly longed with all her heart to move closer against him. To lay her head on his shoulder. To relax…to feel his fingers, warm and sure, working away the tension at her nape….

  His hand fell away, and she blinked. Hard. Then she managed to smile. “Thank you, Mr. McCready.”

  “Dad’s name is Jason,” Angela suddenly volunteered from the back.

  “Yes, I know,” Cary said.

  “Mom’s is Cary,” Danny offered in turn.

  Jason grinned, meeting Danny’s eyes in the mirror. “I know, son, but thank you.”

  “Well, if you both know,” Angela said with exasperation, “why do you keep up with this Mr. and Mrs. business?”

  Cary, smiling, shifted in her seat to see the wide, expectant eyes of the children. “He’s my boss,” she told Angela.

  “And she’s one of my employees,” Jason explained.

  “That doesn’t change your name, does it?” Danny asked innocently.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jason said. He glanced quickly at Cary. “I can live with Cary, if you can handle Jason.”

  “I think so. It’s simple. Two syllables. I should be able to manage it.”

  The Jeep sped along the highway. Cary realized that she had actually known Jason McCready for about three years. And now, within a period of fifteen minutes, they were suddenly on a first-name basis.

  And she still felt warm. Very, very warm—despite the cold of winter….

  Chapter 3

  The ski lodge was beautiful.

  The place looked like an alpine château, all wood and angles, with beautiful carvings. The reception area in the front boasted a huge stone and wood fireplace that was decorated with Christmas stockings and ran nearly the length of the wall. All around the fireplace were leather sofas and chairs, arranged for small and large gatherings, all offering warmth and intimacy. Hot and cold drinks were served in the area all afternoon, with mulled wines and exotic coffees the specialty for grown-ups, and hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate shavings the main offering for the smaller fry.

  Jason McCready explained all this to Cary as they stood in the entryway together. He had pointed out the nearly twenty-foot-high Christmas tree in the lobby to Danny when a young blond man came hurrying forward to welcome them. He was anxious to please Jason McCready, Cary decided, but there was also a warmth in his eyes and a pleasure in his voice that could mean only one thing—he liked his boss.

  “Mr. McCready, you’re here! No bad traffic, I hope. Did the weather slow you down?”

  Jason shook his head, drawing off his gloves. “No, Randy, the trip was fine. We got off the highway to take a look at the Basin.” He smiled at Cary as he explained. He’d mentioned the Basin when they had stopped for pizza for lunch. It wasn’t far from the lodge, just before a little town called Franconia’s Notch. It was one of the most exquisite places Cary had ever seen, with falls and rivulets racing over rocks through the snow to reach an otherwise tranquil spot where the water hurtled down with a noise like thunder. A lot of the shallower water was freezing over, but Cary assumed that the place would be beautiful in any season. Thoreau had thought so, too. According to Jason, he had been a frequent visitor to the area, and some of his words were now immortalized at the spot.

  The area had been exciting to see. And more so, perhaps, with Jason McCready. Because of the ice, he had kept a steady hand upon her elbow as he had led her along, the children racing ahead. He had watched her in silence as he had shown her the place, and when she had spun with pure wide-eyed pleasure, he had seemed to read her thoughts.

  “It’s almost like Camelot! In summer, everything is green and lush, and there are wildflowers everywhere. In fall, the colors are simply fantastic. In winter, it’s a crystal palace of ice, just as you see. And spring brings the water rushing down at a greater crescendo, sweet and clean, the flowers just budding and the return of the birds…” His voice had trailed away, and he’d shrugged. They had stood gazing at each other. He hadn’t seemed to need a reply, but she had never seen him so animated, nor had she imagined that he might feel so poetic about any place.

  “It’s wonderful. Just wonderful,” she’d murmured, and then quickly added, “thank you for taking the time to stop for me—and Danny, of course—to see this.”

  “The pleasure has been all mine, Mrs.—Cary,” he’d said softly. Then he had turned and walked away, leaving her to follow on her own.

  And she had wondered if he had come there often with his Sara, and if the place had awakened memories.

  In the car he had remained quiet. And he had winced when Angela had begged him to play Christmas carols on the tape player. He had caught Cary’s glance and tried to smile.

  He had played the tape, just as his daughter had asked, but he hadn’t j
oined in any of the songs.

  Now, however, he was as polite and easy as could be. He turned, catching Cary’s hand and drawing her over to meet the younger man. “Randy, this is one of my top writers, Cary Adams. Cary, Randy Skylar. And this is Cary’s son, Danny.”

  Randy shook her hand and grinned broadly. “Mrs. Adams, it’s wonderful to have you.” His gaze returned quickly to his employer. “I’ve readied the suites in the rear, just as you asked. Would you like something sent up?”

  “I’m afraid I have a meeting with the sales staff right away,” Jason said. “But, Cary, perhaps you and Danny would like something?”

  She started to shake her head, but then she thought about the children. “Angela, why don’t you come with us to our room for a while? That way we can have Randy send us all some hot chocolate while your dad is busy.”

  Angela smiled shyly. “I’d like that. May I, Dad?”

  “Well, maybe Cary and Danny should have a little time to settle in first—”

  “It’s fine, really,” Cary said, interrupting him. She almost added, We’re only here for Angela, but she didn’t want Angela to feel that she was a burden, because she wasn’t at all. “I’m not tired, and I can throw things in drawers in a matter of minutes.”

  Jason shrugged. “Fine, then. I’ll see you all later for dinner.”

  He left the three of them with Randy, who escorted them to the room Jason had reserved for her and Danny.

  The door to their room was certainly ordinary looking. It was a plain wooden door that opened from the balcony that ran the length of the wall above the Christmas tree. But once that door had opened…

  The room was massive, yet cheerful and warm, with its own fireplace against a wall of granite. There was a white leather sofa standing on a raspberry carpet, and beyond a curving pine bar was a full kitchen that appeared to be equipped with all manner of conveniences and utensils. There were two doors leading from the main room. Cary glanced at Randy, then strode across the parlor area to the first door. Opening it, she discovered a bedroom with a huge queen-sized bed covered by a massive quilt. Even here, there was a fireplace. And to one side of the fireplace, set into a small field of white tiles, was a huge Jacuzzi.

  Cary left that room behind and hurried on to the next. It was smaller, and it was missing the Jacuzzi, but it was every bit as warm and as nice.

  These rooms had been designed as family getaways, she decided. The suite provided a romantic seclusion for adults, while children could be just steps away….

  The lodge was his. He had probably designed it, too, Cary thought.

  She walked to the main room, and she must have been frowning, because Randy was quick to question her. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No, no, of course not. It’s just that…” Angela was staring at her anxiously. It’s just too nice! she wanted to shout. She hadn’t really been invited on this trip—Danny had been the intended guest. And now here she was. In the absolute lap of luxury and feeling very uncomfortable.

  “I’m just afraid that I’m taking space from…from another guest,” she finished lamely.

  “Oh, but you’re not!” Angela assured her. “There are two of these suites here. My dad and I have the other. See—it’s through that door over there. He never rents out these rooms. Never. They’re always for guests. Really. I hope you like it.”

  “I like it very much,” Cary told Angela, but her discomfort was growing. She suddenly felt very much like the governess.

  “Come, Mrs. Adams,” Randy Skylar told her. “You haven’t seen the half of it yet!”

  He led her through the main room and pushed open French doors that led to a balcony. From there, plate glass stretched above her. Below her, swathed in mist, was an indoor pool. A swirling whirlpool sent water cascading over a rock fall into the pool.

  Beyond it, the mountains and the ski slopes were visible through the plate glass. It was breathtaking.

  Cary heard laughter and looked through the mist. Some guests had left the slopes to sink into the warmth of the heated pool. Children played on the steps. And a pair of lovers, perhaps the parents, laughed together, the man in the water, the woman stretched out on the tiled rim of the pool beside him.

  A knot twisted in Cary’s stomach, taking her unaware. Once she had been like that. She could close her eyes and remember when she and Richard and Danny had taken vacations and left their cares behind.

  “Hot chocolate has arrived!” Randy announced. Cary turned. A young woman had appeared, pushing a cart holding a silver pitcher of hot chocolate and a plate of Oreo cookies.

  “This is living!” Danny announced happily. Then he looked at his mother, remembering that he needed to be very careful with Oreos—their sugar was high, and that was bad for his diabetes. “Can I have some?”

  “Yes, of course. A few,” she told him, smiling. She made a mental note to test his blood sugar level and give him his insulin as soon as they were alone. They had a small machine to do the testing, and he was accustomed to receiving his insulin three times a day. Even at his age, he knew how to do it himself, and Cary was proud of him for that, but he was still young, and she liked to be there to oversee things.

  But right now, she decided, he could have a few Oreos.

  Cary smiled at the children. Danny was still watching her. “Why don’t you two dig in, and then get into your suits? We’ll swim and shower and change, and maybe then your father will be ready to join you again, Angela.”

  Angela, delicate and pristine even with an Oreo in her hand, gave Cary a beautiful smile. “Oh, he will be. He’s always on time, and he never lies.”

  “Well, how commendable,” Cary murmured. She offered the two another smile, thanked the maid and Randy Skylar, then disappeared into the master bedroom. As Danny had said, this was living.

  She just couldn’t accept this kind of hospitality. It was too much.

  She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. It would have been so nice if she could have come to such a place with Richard.

  In her mind’s eye she saw the pool and the snow-covered mountains beyond the glass. She saw a fire burning, and she saw herself, her head resting against the shoulder of a dark-haired man.

  She bolted up, setting her hands against her flushed cheeks.

  Richard had been blond. As light as Danny. The dark head in her daydreams had belonged to another man.

  Jason McCready.

  She groaned softly and buried her head in her pillow. And she didn’t rise until Danny came in to tell her that their luggage had been brought up, so they could change for the pool.

  After their swim, Angela went through the connecting door to the suite she shared with her father to change. An hour later she knocked at the connecting door and Cary let her in.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are really beautiful, Miss McCready?” Cary asked her, smiling.

  Angela blushed, her cheeks as rosy as her red velvet dress. “Do you really think so?”

  “Indeed I do.”

  “You’re very beautiful, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I told my father that.”

  “Oh,” Cary murmured.

  “Yes, she did, but it wasn’t at all necessary,” came a rich male voice over Angela’s shoulder.

  Jason was freshly showered and shaved, his hair was still damp, and he was very handsome in a black dinner jacket and red vest. Cary, uncertain of how to dress, had chosen a soft white knit that gently molded her body until it flared slightly into a wider skirt just below the knees. Only the back was low and in the least daring, and she had hoped that her choice would suffice whether she found herself in casual or dressy surroundings.

  “I already knew how beautiful you are, Mrs. Adams,” Jason assured her.

  She felt a flush rising to her cheeks, as red as the color that stained Angela’s fair face. But she wasn’t young, she told herself. And she wasn’t the least bit innocent. She had to acquire a backbone where this man was concer
ned.

  “Thank you. May I return the compliment?”

  “You think Dad’s beautiful?” Angela inquired, giggling.

  “You mean he’s not?” Cary said lightly.

  “Oh, no!” Angela told her gravely. “He’s handsome. Very, very handsome.”

  Tall, dark and handsome! an inner voice taunted Cary. Ah, but tall, dark and handsome had been June’s order for Christmas. Cary had just wanted a man who didn’t pull his boxer shorts up to his earlobes.

  No. She hadn’t wanted a man at all. Jeremy was the one who had wished that upon her. Jeremy and his darned Christmas dust!

  “Well, we’ve got reservations at a place up by one of the other slopes,” Jason said. “Not that the restaurant here isn’t marvelous—it is. But the week may grow hectic, and you may eat here frequently, so I thought I should get you out while I could. Is that all right?”

  “Certainly. It’s very thoughtful,” Cary told him. “But you really don’t have to worry about Danny or me—”

  “Tsk, tsk, Mrs. Adams. I realize that I don’t have to worry. I choose to worry. May I?”

  There was that smile again. One that was open and honest. The smile that made her feel warm. That made candlelight seem to dance and flicker down the length of her.

  Cary nodded, consenting as graciously as she could.

  Dinner was wonderful. The owners of the restaurant had managed to combine moose and elk and deer heads on very rustic walls with a certain amount of elegance. Cary had her first beefalo steak, and a delicious salad. Conversation with Jason McCready was proving to be easy and natural, and throughout the meal she was surprised by the range of topics they covered, from the best qualities for grammar school teachers to the situation in the Middle East. And with Angela and Danny there, Cary also found herself laughing through the meal as Danny described the very best way to spit on a ball to give it a fast curve, and Angela sang camp songs that might have repelled a hungry bear. So much for elegance.