Fiance For Christmas. CATHERINE GEORGE

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СКАЧАТЬ relaxed body, careless of whether she disturbed him. But Nick slumbered on, vanquished by a combination of jet-lag and stress topped off by a good dinner and three glasses of unaccustomed wine.

      ‘Sweet dreams,’ said Cassie, resigned, and turned out the light.

      CHAPTER THREE

      CASSIE surfaced next morning to find a scantily clad Polly shaking her awake.

      ‘You’re nuts, Cassie Lovell,’ her friend stated, eyes dancing, and perched on the bed. ‘What’s the point of wining and dining this Rupert person if you make him sleep on the sofa?’

      ‘Oh, heavens,’ gasped Cassie, the events of last night flooding back in full flow. ‘He’s still there?’

      ‘Sleeping like a babe. Though more sexy pirate than baby.’ Polly rolled her eyes. ‘I can see why you were so steamed up about getting him to yourself, ducky. Why on earth did you banish him to the sofa?’

      ‘I didn’t,’ said Cassie tersely, scrambling out of bed. ‘He fell asleep while I was making coffee.’

      ‘Oh, bad luck,’ said her friend with sympathy. ‘Was Rupert tired after a long day at the bank or something?’

      ‘No.’ Cassie shrugged on her dressing gown. ‘The man downstairs isn’t Rupert.’ She chuckled wickedly as Polly’s mouth fell open. ‘His name is Dominic Seymour—ducky. He’s my sister’s brother-in-law, but never mind that, I’ll explain later. And put some clothes on, Polly. A good thing Nick didn’t wake up if you barged in on him like that. He’s been working abroad without a drink or feminine company for a couple of months.’

      ‘How scrummy—I wish I’d known!’ said the irrepressible Polly, dodging the pillow Cassie hurled at her.

      After a short interval in the bathroom, Cassie rushed back to her room to drag a brush through the tousled ringlets, then, ignoring Polly’s entreaties to tell all, she raced downstairs as she was, shivering in her striped pyjamas and old blue dressing gown. She turned the heating up and went into the sitting-room to find Nick still out for the count, his mouth open slightly, but not snoring. It was the only point in his favour. The growth of black stubble along his jaw had grown thicker overnight—Polly wasn’t far wrong with her pirate description. ‘Sleeping like a babe’ was hardly applicable. There was nothing helpless about Nick Seymour, awake or asleep.

      Cassie shook him ungently and tried to pull the covers off, but Nick muttered ominously and held on like grim death, refusing to wake. With a sigh of exasperation Cassie went over to the windows and drew back the curtains on a sunny, frosty morning, the bright light doing more to penetrate Nick’s consciousness than all her shaking. He sat up suddenly, blinking like an owl as he saw Cassie standing over him, arms folded and a militant expression on her face.

      ‘The usual line is “where am I?”,’ she informed him tartly.

      Nick shot to his feet, shivering, and rubbed his jaw in distaste. ‘I know where I am, Cassie, but why the hell am I still here?’

      ‘It wasn’t my choice, believe me,’ she assured him. ‘But when you sleep, you certainly sleep, Dominic Seymour. I couldn’t rouse you last night so I left you there. I hoped you’d wake up in the night and tactfully take yourself off. Instead you gave one of my fellow tenants a nasty shock this morning.’

      He grimaced. ‘Sorry. I’ll apologise later. At the moment I need a bathroom. I don’t suppose you’d have a spare toothbrush?’

      ‘Polly might. I’ll find out.’

      Polly, now fully dressed in skin-tight leather trousers and a curve-hugging ribbed sweater, was happy to oblige. ‘Always keep one for emergencies, pet,’ she said cheerfully, rummaging in a drawer. ‘Would Bluebeard like to borrow a razor, too, while I make breakfast?’

      Nick accepted both offerings from Cassie with gratitude, and came downstairs later, hair relatively tidy and his jaw clean-shaven. Despite his rumpled clothes, he looked a lot better, and to the impressionable Polly obviously very fanciable indeed.

      ‘Hi, I’m Polly Cooper,’ she informed him jauntily. ‘Want some coffee?’

      ‘Nick Seymour,’ he returned, with a dazzling smile. ‘I’m told I gave you a shock earlier. My apologies.’

      Polly assured him she’d suffered no ill effects.

      Cassie took her eyes off the toast under the grill. ‘Want some breakfast, Nick?’

      ‘If you don’t think I’ve trespassed too much on your hospitality already,’ he said wryly, sitting at the table.

      ‘A few minutes more won’t matter, I suppose,’ said Cassie. She put the toast rack on the table and handed him a sales-slip from the well-known source of the previous night’s dinner. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy breakfast more if you settle up for this.’

      ‘Cassie!’ remonstrated Polly in horror. ‘You’re not making him pay for his dinner?’

      ‘Why not? It was meant for Rupert,’ said Cassie, filling three coffee mugs. She pushed the butter towards Nick.

      ‘I ruined her evening, so she’s entitled to make me pay. Though I think it’s for more than just dinner,’ added Nick, looking Cassie in the eye.

      ‘I was joking,’ she muttered, and snatched the sales-slip back.

      Nick looked unconvinced. ‘Right. I’ll just finish this and be on my way. I need a bath and a change of clothes before I pick up Alice.’

      ‘Will you come back for me?’ asked Cassie.

      ‘Is that what you want?’

      Polly looked on in fascination as the two pairs of eyes locked, one pair dark-rimmed blue, still shadowed with fatigue, the other pair oval, the velvety brown irises surprisingly dark below the fair hair.

      Cassie nodded. ‘I’ve got something to suggest. So if you get back here in an hour it should give us time to talk before fetching Alice.’

      Nick glanced at his watch, then finished his coffee quickly. ‘I’ll get off, then. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

      ‘Wow!’ said Polly after Nick had gone. ‘Why have you never mentioned him before?’

      Polly was a recent addition to the household. Knowing she wouldn’t let it rest, Cassie gave her the bare bones of her acquaintance with Dominic Seymour, leaving out the fact that he was in some way to blame for the break-up of Julia’s marriage. And when Cassie added the worry of the night before over Alice, Polly was full of sympathy.

      ‘Poor little thing. You’d think her father could have got home in time for Christmas.’

      ‘He may do yet—still four days to go.’

      ‘And what happens in the meantime?’ demanded Polly. ‘Will this housekeeper person look after her? Or does Nick have a girlfriend likely to lend a hand?’

      ‘No idea, on both counts. I hope we can sort something out later. Whatever happens,’ added Cassie firmly, ‘I’m going to see Alice this morning, let her know there СКАЧАТЬ