Christmas Eve Marriage. Jessica Hart

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      Something about his expression made Thea’s heart twist. Underneath that tough exterior, he was clearly vulnerable about his daughter. He struck her as the kind of man who would dismiss emotions as ‘touchy feely’, but it was easy to see that he loved Sophie desperately and was bothered more than he cared to admit by his inability to bond with her.

      And Sophie obviously wasn’t making it easy for him. Remembering that sullen expression and the stubborn set to that little chin, Thea couldn’t help feeling that he had a long way to go. She felt sorry for him.

      Which was much better than feeling disturbed by him.

      Draining her coffee, she pushed back her chair. ‘Thank you so much for breakfast,’ she said gratefully. ‘I feel as if I can face that awful drive now that I’ve got some caffeine inside me. I was dreading getting back in the car again.’

      ‘If it’s any help, I’m going down myself in a bit,’ he said casually, getting to his feet at the same time. ‘We need to stock up as well, so I could give you a lift if you really don’t like the idea of driving.’

      She really didn’t, but Thea hesitated. ‘That would be wonderful,’ she said, trying not to sound too eager. ‘I feel as if I’d be exploiting you, though. So far you’ve provided breakfast and coffee, and all I’ve done is wake you up in the middle of the night and crash into your car. It’s rather a one-sided relationship, isn’t it?’ she joked a little uneasily.

      For answer, Rhys cocked his ear in the direction of the pool where the girls could be heard giggling together. ‘That’s the first time Sophie has laughed in a week,’ he said simply. ‘She actually sounds as if she’s enjoying herself. A pot of yoghurt, a cup of coffee and a lift into town when I was going anyway doesn’t seem much compared to that.’

      ‘Well, if you’re sure…’ Thea let herself be persuaded. Pride had never been her strong point anyway, and there was no point in both of them driving down that road again, was there?

      ‘That’s settled then,’ said Rhys briskly. ‘If I can persuade the girls out of the pool, will you be ready to leave in half an hour?’

      ‘Half an hour’s fine,’ she said, calculating that would give her plenty of time to change. She wasn’t sitting next to Rhys in these shorts, that was for sure.

      Oh, to have lovely long, slender thighs that you could flaunt without worrying about how they would look splayed out over the passenger seat. The only alternative was to sit with her feet braced to keep the weight off her thighs, and that drive was stressful enough as it was. The last thing she needed was the added anxiety of keeping cellulite under control.

      Not that there was any reason to suppose that Rhys would even notice what her thighs were doing.

      Or for her to care whether he did or not.

      It was just habit, Thea told herself, frantically dragging clothes out of her case. She had been in no state to unpack when they arrived in the early hours, and now everything was disastrously crumpled. She was used to constantly fretting about her appearance with Harry, who was supercritical and forever remembering how beautifully groomed Isabelle was.

      The thought of Harry and Isabelle made her wince, but it wasn’t that awful lacerating pain it had once been. The realisation made Thea pause. Perhaps Nell had been right when she said a change of scenery was what Thea needed.

      ‘There’s no point in moping around while you wait for Harry to make up his mind,’ her sister had said. ‘Go somewhere different. Think about something different.’

      Like the smile in Rhys’s eyes and the feel of his hand touching hers.

      Thea went back to pulling clothes out of her case, but more slowly. Yes, maybe Nell had a point. Coming out to Crete in Nell’s place had forced her out of her rut. It had been so long since she had been anywhere new, met anyone new, thought about anything other than Harry that her reactions were all over the place.

      That would explain her peculiar physical reaction to Rhys, wouldn’t it? She wasn’t attracted to him. No, she was simply adjusting to the unfamiliar, and obviously lack of sleep—not to mention acute caffeine deprivation—hadn’t helped her behave normally.

      Still, that was no reason not to look her best. She would feel more herself when she was properly dressed. But in what?

      ‘Dress or skirt and top?’ Thea held the alternative outfits up for Clara’s inspection when her niece appeared, still dripping from the pool.

      Clara considered. ‘The dress is pretty, but it’s all creased.’

      ‘Linen’s supposed to look a bit creased,’ said Thea, relieved to have had the decision made for her. Clara had her mother’s taste and even as a very little girl her opinion had been worth having.

      Tossing aside the skirt and top, she rummaged around in her case for a pair of strappy sandals. ‘It’s part of its charm.’

      ‘Are we going out?’

      ‘Didn’t Rhys tell you? He’s giving us a lift to the supermarket in that town we passed.’

      Clara eyed her aunt suspiciously. ‘Why are you getting dressed up to go shopping?’

      ‘I’m only putting on a dress!’ Thea protested.

      ‘And you’ve got lipstick on.’

      Trust Clara to notice that. ‘I often wear lipstick. It doesn’t mean anything.’

      ‘Rhys is nice, isn’t he?’

      It was Thea’s turn to look suspicious at the airy change of subject. ‘He seems nice, yes.’

      ‘Do you think he’s good-looking?’

      ‘He’s OK,’ said Thea. Nothing like Harry, of course, but yes, definitely OK.

      She didn’t want Clara matchmaking, though. Her niece didn’t like Harry and was tireless in suggesting alternative boyfriends—encouraged by her mother, Thea thought darkly. If Clara got it into her head that Rhys would do for her aunt, she would be shameless in promoting their relationship, and Thea could foresee huge potential for embarrassment.

      ‘Sophie says he’s really cross the whole time,’ Clara was continuing artlessly, ‘but he didn’t seem cross to me. He’s got lovely smiley eyes.’

      Thea didn’t feel like admitting that she had noticed his eyes herself. ‘Really?’ she said discouragingly instead.

      ‘Maybe he could be your boyfriend?’ Clara suggested, evidently deciding to go for the direct approach after all. ‘Sophie says he hasn’t got a girlfriend.’

      Thea filed that little piece of information away to consider when her niece’s gimlet eyes weren’t fixed upon her.

      ‘I’m not looking for a boyfriend,’ she said firmly. ‘You know I’m still in love with Harry. You don’t get over somebody just like that.’

      Clara set her chin stubbornly. ‘Rhys would be much better for you than Harry,’ she said, sounding so like her mother that Thea was quite taken aback.

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