Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection. Rebecca Winters

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      ‘In the loos. Obviously.’ I pulled a face at him.

      He took my hand and led me out into the hall before bowing before a door, waving an arm. ‘The guest bathroom awaits, m’lady.’

      ‘You’ve gone from grumpy to bonkers.’

      ‘Normally I’m a little of both.’

      ‘Well, that’s better than a lot of the former.’

      ‘Point taken. Now go and do what you do or you’ll be late for Colin.’

      Opening my mouth to correct him, I caught the twinkle. I narrowed my eyes at him and he quirked an eyebrow at me, before I closed the door, trying to stop the smile that desperately wanted to play on my lips.

      Smoothing down my dress, I gave a last check in the bathroom mirror. I couldn’t get over the feeling that it would be odd to take a shower in Michael’s house, despite the fact that he’d sweetly left everything I might need laid out, just in case, so I’d had a quick wash instead and then set about redoing my make-up and unpinned my hair. Brushing it out, I hooked one side behind my ear and told myself that would have to do. The shoes I’d worn over were a good match to the dress which had saved me lugging another pair around after Calum’s short notice arrangements.

      I left the bathroom and headed to the stairs, stopping as the sound of music caught my attention. If my many hours of listening to Classic FM had taught me anything, it was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, one of my favourite pieces. Sliding my hand along the banister, I slowly descended the stairs, knowing by now which creaked and which didn’t. The sound got louder as I moved towards the living room. Quietly I stepped through the half-open doorway.

      Michael’s hands moved assuredly over the keys, his long fingers covering the chords easily and naturally. There was no music in front of him and his head was bent in concentration, his brow slightly furrowed. The light from the lamp to his side cast a shadow over his face, accentuating the high cheekbones and strong jawline, now ragged with overgrown stubble. To the side of the piano stool, Pilot laid contentedly, head on his paws, eyelids drooping as his master soothed him to sleep.

      I felt my breathing grow shallow, afraid to make the slightest noise and shatter the scene in front of me. The fact that Michael was playing after so long of not doing so made me feel joyous. It was moments like this that made me love my job even more. I was helping. But I felt instinctively, in this instance, there was something more. Something I couldn’t name or even entirely recognise. But I knew it was different. And I wasn’t sure what that meant. Or if it even meant anything at all.

      ‘Oh no! Please don’t stop,’ I said, as Michael looked up, his hands stilling over the keys as he saw me in the doorway.

      He shook his head, his half-smile almost bashful. ‘Bit rusty.’

      ‘No! No, really! It was wonderful. Honestly. That’s one of my favourite pieces.’

      ‘You play?’ he asked, closing the lid on the instrument as he stood.

      ‘Oh goodness, no. Sadly not.’ No point telling him that more than anything I’d wanted lessons as a child but that wish, like a whole bunch of others, never came true. ‘But I love to listen to it, especially “live” as it were.’ I immediately felt silly for doing the bunny ears and shoved my hands behind my back.

      ‘Well, Pilot’s not howling the place down so that’s something.’

      ‘I think he found it relaxing.’ I pointed to where the dog had now flopped onto his side and was gently snoring.

      As we left the room the dog pulled himself up and padded sleepily behind us, just in case he missed something. As we got to the bottom of the stairs, I realised Michael was looking at me a little funny.

      ‘Oh no. What? What is it?’ I ran my hand over my hair and checked for runs in my stockings.

      ‘Nothing! Nothing’s wrong. You just look…wow…really nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down before.’

      ‘No, it’s not really practical for work but I can’t bear to cut it.’

      ‘You definitely shouldn’t.’

      I smiled. ‘Thanks.’ I slipped my arms into my coat as Michael held it out for me. ‘Calum thinks it’d be less hassle if I cut it,’ I said, lifting my hair from the collar so that it wasn’t tucked in. ‘But I refused.’ I looked up through my lashes at Michael. ‘So you see, I don’t always just jump when he says so.’

      ‘Like I said before, he’s an idiot.’ He handed me the wrap I’d been using as a scarf. ‘Admittedly he’s a lucky idiot but an idiot all the same.’

      ‘Oh shush you,’ I said, not wanting to argue again tonight and accepting that, mixed in there among the boyfriend insults, was a compliment. ‘I have to go.’

      ‘We’re walking you to the station.’

      ‘No, it’s freezing out there. Stay here in the warm.’

      ‘Yes, because I can see that you’re dressed for arctic conditions in that dress.’

      ‘I have a coat on!’

      ‘You should have three more layers at least and a bobble hat,’ Michael replied, pulling on his boots.

      ‘Hat hair wasn’t exactly the look I was going for.’

      ‘It’s a much underrated look, I’ve always thought. And you’ve no choice on the company. Come Pilot.’ Michael clipped the lead on the dog, shrugged into his own coat and opened the door for me.

      As we walked along to the station, I secretly began to think that Michael might have been right about the extra layers. A harsh north wind had been building all day and the clear sky had turned into a clear night, which probably meant that somewhere through all the light pollution, millions of stars were glinting, hung in an inky sky. It also meant that I was freezing my butt off.

      ‘Wishing you had those extra layers now, aren’t you?’ Michael read my thoughts.

      ‘What makes you think that?’

      ‘I can hear your teeth chattering.’

      I bit down and locked my jaws together.

      Michael put an arm out and squished me against him, protecting me from the wind and immediately making me feel more cosy.

      ‘Better?’

      ‘Yes. Thank you.’

      ‘No problem.’

      We arrived at the entrance where a small group of carol singers had braved the weather and were cheerily belting out a chorus. Michael let his arm drop away and I immediately missed the warmth he’d provided. My teeth began chattering again almost instantly.

      ‘Go on. Get down into the Tube and warm up. And try not to freeze the other end. Get a taxi if you need to.’

      ‘And you say I fuss,’ I teased.

      He СКАЧАТЬ