Mistletoe Marriage (Harlequin Romance)

by Jessica Hart

  No, best ignore it, thought Sophie. If Bram wanted her to know that he thought she was special, he would tell her directly. She was just letting her imagination carry her away. They were still friends. A little kiss shouldn’t have changed that. All she had to do was treat Bram the way she always had.

  So when they got up to go she hugged him. ‘Thank you, Bram,’ she said, with a bright smile—the kind of smile you would give to someone who was a generous friend and nothing more. ‘It’s a beautiful ring.’

  Again there was that tell-tale moment of hesitation before his arms closed tightly around her to hug her back. He held her so firmly that Sophie felt a sudden urge to lean into his hard body and cling to him, to tell him that she felt confused and unsure about everything and to beg him not to let her go.

  But friends didn’t do that kind of thing, did they? So she pulled back quickly and put her smile back in place.

  ‘So, what about that lunch?’

  They found a restaurant in a wonderful old building with sloping floors and wonky walls, where the fires were lit in the grates and the tables were full of Christmas shoppers pulling presents out of carrier bags and comparing their purchases. Sophie watched two women at the next table, happily striking names off their Christmas lists and urging each other to have a glass of mulled wine with their lunch, and wished that all she had to think about was the perennial problem of what to buy her father for Christmas.

  Instead of thinking about how she could want to cling to Bram and be in love with Nick at the same time. If she was still in love with Nick. But if she wasn’t, why would she be so nervous about seeing him tonight?

  It seemed to Sophie that she had been carrying round the loss of Nick’s love like a dead weight in her heart for so long now that it had become familiar, more familiar than actually loving him. The image of Nick himself had blurred over time, leaving her only the memory of how desperately she had loved him, how torn she had been between loving him and loving her sister, and the raw, terrible pain of giving him up for Melissa.

  Was it that blurring that was making her so unsettled, so uneasily aware of Bram and so confused now about what she really wanted?

  She glanced across the table at Bram. He was studying the menu, his eyes lowered, so her gaze could dwell on the familiar features and the cool, quiet lines of his cheek and his mouth. Watching him, Sophie was suddenly swamped by that vertiginous feeling again, as if she were standing on the edge of an abyss, desperately searching for something safe and familiar to cling to.

  But the more she looked, the less safe and familiar Bram seemed. It’s Bram—it’s Bram, she kept telling herself. Strong, caring, steady Bram. Only now that strength and steadiness seemed all at once exciting and intriguing and inexplicably out of reach. Sophie remembered how he had recoiled from her touch, his hesitation before hugging her, and a desolate voice deep inside reminded her that she was just his friend. She was there to talk to, to laugh with, but not to touch.

  So be his friend, Sophie told herself fiercely. They had been friends for as long as she could remember, and the thought of that friendship fading into awkwardness was unbearable. Much better to stay friends and forget about the comfort of touching him, forget about the feel of his lips.

  Bram looked up from the menu. His eyes, so blue, so direct, made Sophie’s heart turn over. ‘Well, have you decided?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, not bothering to look at the menu. Sophie knew they would always be friends and anything more would be a bonus. ‘Yes, I have.’

  So she smiled and chatted through lunch, and all that afternoon, until the pale wintry sunshine began to fade and the lights glowed in the shop windows and sparkled in the street decorations overhead. Super-cheerful, super-friendly, Sophie made sure they kept moving so that there was no time to think. She found Christmas presents for the family, and a special birthday present for her father, and last of all they ordered wedding rings to be engraved with the date of their marriage.

  ‘Oh, a Christmas wedding!’ exclaimed the assistant when she saw the date. ‘How romantic!’

  ‘If only she knew!’ Sophie whispered to Bram as they left the shop. She rolled her eyes in amusement, behaving exactly the way she would have behaved if she hadn’t been trying so hard, she thought.

  Bram wasn’t helping, though. The more cheerful and friendly Sophie tried to be, the more distant he seemed to become. And now, when he was supposed to laugh, to show that he understood the absurdity of the situation, all he did was look at her blankly.

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘You know…the real reason why we’re getting married.’ Sophie was beginning to wish that she hadn’t said anything. ‘I’m just saying she probably wouldn’t think it was quite so romantic.’

  ‘You mean if she knew that we were both settling for second best?’ said Bram, in a hard voice.

  ‘Well…yes.’ Sophie hadn’t wanted to put it quite that way—but then, how else could you put it?

  ‘You can make anyone believe anything if the trappings are right,’ he agreed, expressionless. ‘It’s all about appearances.’

  ‘Let’s hope that it works tonight, then,’ said Sophie, hearing the brittleness in her own voice but unable to do anything about it. She had the awful feeling that the conversation was going in quite the wrong direction, like a runaway train heading for a broken bridge, but she couldn’t seem to turn it round and send it back onto safe ground.

  ‘Tonight?’

  She lifted her hand to show the pearl and ruby ring. ‘This is the ultimate trapping, isn’t it? If this doesn’t convince Nick that we really are getting married, nothing will.’

  No, and convincing Nick was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Bram reminded himself. Sophie had already had an engagement ring that had meant something to her. Of course she would think of his ring as a mere ‘trapping’.

  ‘I suppose Nick bought you a diamond?’ he said disparagingly.

  ‘He did, as a matter or fact.’

  ‘What happened to it?’

  ‘I gave it back to him,’ said Sophie, shivering in her jacket. The darkness had brought a new intensity to the cold and she turned up her collar against the icy wind.

  It hadn’t been the biggest ring in the world, but at the time she had been so thrilled and ecstatic at the evidence of Nick’s love for her that she wouldn’t have changed it for the Koh-i-Noor.

  Bram remembered her face when she had told him how in love she was with Nick, and felt ashamed of his jealousy. Of course she was going to have treasured Nick’s ring more than the one she was wearing now.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sophie,’ he said, more gently.

  Hunching his shoulders in his jacket, he looked away. ‘Look, have you done enough? It’s time we headed back.’

  Preferably to the way they had been for the last few days.

  The journey back to Haw Gill was a silent one, and it was dark by the time they arrived. Bram went out to check on the stock, accompanied by an ecstatic Bess, who’d hated being left behind all day.

  In the farmhouse, Sophie couldn’t settle. She wandered around touching things, picking them up and putting them down again uncertainly. The ring on her finger kept catching her eye, reminding her about the deception they had embarked upon so carelessly.

  Had she done the right thing in deciding to marry Bram? It had seemed to make sense, but now she wasn’t so sure. And it was getting harder and harder to put a stop to the wedding preparations. In a couple of hours they had to turn up at the engagement dinner her mother had planned so carefully and play the happy couple in front of her family.

  And Nick.

  After dreading seeing him for so long, Sophie found herself strangely eager to come face to face with him now. Surely when she saw him again she would know how she really felt about him, and she would feel less confused about everything?

  She took her time getting ready. She had a bath, washed her hair, and did her best to comb her wild curls into some kind of style. To ke
ep her mother quiet she even put on some lipstick. Cutting off the labels, she put on the dress and the shoes, and found a pair of Ella’s more dramatic creations to hang in her ears. There was something about this dress, Sophie thought, regarding her reflection. She felt better, stronger, more confident already.

  Walking very carefully on her heels, she made her way downstairs. Bram had already changed and was waiting for her at the bottom. Unaccustomed to wearing a jacket and tie, he was running a finger around his collar, but he froze as he saw Sophie.

  She looked beautiful—even more beautiful than she had in the shop. Bram wasn’t sure exactly what she’d done to look so different, but she had clearly made a huge effort. No prizes for guessing why, he told himself bitterly. She would want Nick to realise just what he had lost—want Melissa to think that she had moved on and had no regrets.

  ‘You look great,’ he said as Sophie reached the bottom of the stairs, but his voice was strangely flat.

  ‘Thanks.’ She smiled a little nervously, and he saw the doubt clouding the beautiful grey-green eyes. ‘I don’t feel like me at all,’ she confessed.

  Bram studied her. In that dress she looked vibrant and sexy and faintly tousled, as if she had just fallen out of bed. Very sexy, in fact.

  ‘I think you look exactly like you,’ he said, and then made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Finding himself trapped in the river-coloured gaze, seeing it widen, he could only stare back at her for a long, long moment while his chest tightened with the longing to reach for her and sweep her into his arms.

  It seemed an age before he could wrench his eyes away. Think, Bram, he told himself. Say something. Anything.

  ‘Are you going to be all right tonight?’ It was the first thing that came into his head.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ said Sophie, who was feeling none too steady herself. ‘I think I’m ready to see Nick now.’ She managed a smile and tried to explain. ‘I’m even looking forward to it, in a funny kind of way.’

  Bram’s only option was to make a joke of it. ‘Sure you don’t want me to stay here? I wouldn’t want to cramp your style!’

  ‘No.’ Sophie shook her head so that the curls bounced around her face, and came forward to tuck her hand in his arm. ‘I need you with me,’ she told him, sinkingly aware of how tense his muscles felt beneath her hand. This wasn’t going to be an easy evening for Bram either.

  ‘How about you?’ she asked.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Melissa will be there,’ she reminded him gently. ‘I know it’s a difficult situation for you too.’

  Her warm body was pressed against him, her fingers on his arm, her eyes searching his face with concern. She was close enough for him to smell the clean gorse smell of her hair, close enough to kiss.

  ‘More than you can possibly know,’ he said, his voice as dry as dust.

  A smart new BMW was parked outside Glebe Farm when they arrived. Nick and Melissa were there already.

  Bram put the Land Rover next to the other car and switched off the engine. Sophie had been silent on the drive over, and he thought she must be nervous about seeing Nick now that the moment was here. Reaching over, he took her hand.

  ‘OK?’

  Sophie looked down at their linked hands. She could feel the warmth of his clasp flowing up her arm, steadying her insensibly. Nick was only yards away and she was longing to stay here, holding hands with Bram in the dark. Bram, who must be dreading this evening as much as she was. She might have to face Nick, but Bram had to see Melissa being happy too.

  At least she and Bram were friends. Sophie clung to the resolution she had made in York. Together they would get through this evening, and then they could go back to Haw Gill and it would just be the two of them again.

  ‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath and turned to Bram. ‘Yes,’ she said more strongly. ‘I’m fine.’

  The front door opened just then, and Sophie’s mother stood outlined in a rectangle of yellow light. ‘We’d better go,’ said Bram.

  He opened his door and got out. ‘It’s pretty muddy out here,’ he said. ‘You’ll ruin those shoes. Wait there.’ Squelching round to the passenger door, he held out his arms with a grin. ‘Come on, I’ll carry you. Just one more service I offer!’

  Something about his smile made Sophie feel strange. ‘You can’t carry me,’ she protested. ‘I’m much too heavy!’

  ‘You’re not heavier than that heifer I was dragging around the other day,’ Bram pointed out. ‘Now, stop arguing. You know your mother will never let you hear the end of it if you turn up with muddy shoes,’ he added cunningly.

  That was only too true. Sophie wriggled out onto the step and linked her arms around Bram’s neck, so that he could lift her easily in his arms and push the door shut with his foot.

  She was burningly aware of his body as he held her against him and carried her over to set her down on the doorstep in front of Harriet. The whole thing lasted only a few seconds, but Sophie felt cold and bereft when he let her go. It was hard to concentrate on greeting her mother when the feel of his arms was branded on her flesh, making her tingle all over—which was a pity, really, as she couldn’t properly appreciate the fact that Harriet was actually approving of her appearance for once.

  ‘You look very nice, dear,’ she said, kissing Sophie. ‘See what you can do when you make an effort?’

  She ushered them into the sitting room, where the conversation broke off abruptly as Sophie appeared with Bram by her side. Well aware that no one was looking at him, Bram was able to study the varying expressions of the others as they stared at Sophie.

  Joe Beckwith looked amazed and proud, Melissa surprised and delighted, and Nick simply stunned.

  It was Joe who recovered first. ‘You look gorgeous, love,’ he said, kissing Sophie. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘It must be love…or maybe it’s just the new dress,’ said Sophie lightly, astounded at how normal she sounded.

  She turned to her sister, as exquisite as ever in a classic little black dress of the kind Sophie would never be able to wear. ‘Hello, Mel,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, Sophie, it’s lovely to see you!’ Melissa hugged her tightly. ‘Dad’s right—you look beautiful!’

  Sophie laughed, a little embarrassed by all the attention. ‘I don’t think anyone would say that when I’m standing next to you!’

  ‘Yes, they would,’ said Melissa loyally.

  She was right, Bram thought. Sophie would never have her sister’s perfect beauty, but she was so vivid, aglow in the flame-coloured dress, that next to her Melissa looked unusually dim.

  Melissa looked past Sophie and her lovely face brightened as she caught sight of Bram, who had been waiting, unsurprised that all the attention was riveted on Sophie.

  ‘Bram!’ Throwing her arms round him, she kissed him impulsively. ‘I’m so, so happy for you!’

  Sophie’s heart ached for Bram. It must be awful for him, having the woman he loved in his arms, pressed closed against him, but being unable to do more than kiss her like a brother. No wonder he had been tense in York. He had probably been dreading seeing Melissa again as much as she was dreading Nick.

  She saw his arms close around Melissa, and his head bent to return her kiss, but she couldn’t read his expression—

  ‘And here’s Nick,’ her father prompted, obviously surprised by the way Sophie was ignoring her brother-in-law.

  With a start, Sophie turned away from the embrace between Bram and Melissa to greet Nick.

  Nick, the love of her life. Nick, the beat of her heart for so long.

  For how long had she dreaded this moment, expecting to feel jolted, desolate, yearning still? And now it was here her heart was quite steady, and more than half her attention was on Bram and what he might be saying to Melissa.

  ‘Hello, Nick,’ she said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘SOPHIE, you look stunning!’ said Nick, in the deep voice that had once turned her knees to water. He gave her a lingering kis
s, slightly too close to her mouth for comfort, and she pulled abruptly back out of his embrace.

  He was just the same. The same dark good looks, the same daredevil arrogance, the same smouldering eyes that swept appreciatively over her curves. Alpha man incarnate. Her heart should be thumping, her pulse racing, every nerve should be thrilling at his nearness.

  But they weren’t. Sophie couldn’t believe it. She examined his face, waiting for the familiar rush of excitement to kick in, but there was nothing—only a curiosity that the memory of how she had felt should be so much stronger than what she was actually feeling now.

  ‘I have to say my jaw just about hit the floor when you came in,’ Nick was saying, letting his eyes run appreciatively over her. ‘You certainly don’t look like a farmer’s wife—or farmer’s fiancée, should I say?—in that dress! I gather congratulations are in order?’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Sophie, not sure what else to say.

  It was a peculiar feeling. Nick seemed the same, she thought that she was the same, and yet somehow everything was completely different.

  Sophie didn’t understand how it had happened, but her muscles, tensed for the anticipated strain of meeting him again, were relaxing, and she was conscious of a sense of release at the thought that the feelings that had consumed her for so long—the love and the pain and the longing—might actually have evaporated when faced with the reality of Nick once more.

  She glanced over at Bram, wanting him to know that she really was OK, but he was talking to Melissa and didn’t notice her.

  ‘Bram’s a lucky man,’ said Nick, following her gaze. ‘He’s obviously got a taste for the Beckwith sisters,’ he went on, amused. ‘I understand he wanted to marry Melissa at one time?’

  ‘Yes, they were engaged for a while,’ said Sophie, wondering what Bram and Melissa were talking about so intently together.

  Her parents were fussing around with glasses and nuts in the background, but they hardly seemed to notice them. Melissa had her hand on Bram’s arm, and her heartbreakingly lovely face was turned up to his, but they were standing so that Sophie couldn’t read their expressions.