Fiance For Christmas. Catherine George

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СКАЧАТЬ she ordered, then went out to fetch the silverware and plates from the other room. The splendour of the red cloth and the candles had been for Rupert. Nick Seymour could make do with the kitchen.

      He smiled sardonically as she set the table. ‘Ah! The honour of candles and tablecloth is not to be mine.’

      ‘No,’ she said shortly.

      ‘This is cosier,’ he assured her. ‘After all, we’re sort of family, you and I, Cassie.’

      Her eyes flashed. ‘You mean you’re in love with your brother’s wife, who just happens to be my sister.’

      For a moment Cassie was afraid she’d gone too far, but Nick held on to his temper with obvious, rather frightening effort.

      ‘You’re wrong!’ he said harshly at last. ‘I was a bit of a fool about Julia when I was younger, I admit, but she only had eyes for Max—always. Once they were married I steered clear of the house unless invited. I called unexpectedly that particular day because I was off to work in Nigeria for a while. I found Julia feeling off-colour and miserable because Max was about to leave on one of his endless trips into some wilderness, so I gave her a hug. Max walked in on a bit of brotherly comfort on my part and the rest is history.’ He looked Cassie in the eye. ‘I had a callow, immature crush on Julia once, it’s true. But it died a natural death. On the day in question I was just providing a convenient shoulder to cry on.’

      ‘It’s a pity you never managed to convince your brother of the fact,’ she pointed out, stirring the soup.

      ‘I tried, believe me,’ said Nick wearily. ‘No one was more appalled by what happened than I was.’

      ‘I seriously doubt that!’ Cassie slid the salmon into the microwave and fetched soup bowls from the cupboard. ‘The effect on Julia was shattering.’

      ‘I know. She refused to have anything to do with me afterwards. I haven’t seen her since, until tonight.’ He looked up, the striking blue eyes full of remorse. ‘She looks so much older, Cassie.’

      ‘So would you if you were a single parent juggling a lively toddler with a demanding job,’ she retorted. ‘Besides, Julia doesn’t usually look like that. You caught her at the end of a long working week, trying to get her baby to sleep. She was entitled to look tired.’

      Nick nodded morosely, then brightened visibly as Cassie brought bowls of hot, fragrant soup to the table. ‘This smells wonderful. I’m impressed.’

      ‘I aim to please,’ she said briskly, sitting down. ‘Have some more bread.’

      Cassie was almost as hungry as Nick, and neither of them said much until the soup bowls were empty. But when she put a plate of salmon and vegetables in front of him Nick gave her a wry look.

      ‘This was intended for Ashcroft, of course. I’m hellish sorry I ruined your evening, Cassie.’

      She shrugged philosophically. ‘There’ll be other times. I see Rupert every day, anyway.’

      ‘So this is a regular occurrence?’ Nick began on his meal with relish. ‘If so, he’s a lucky guy.’

      Cassie poured wine into their glasses, her resentment flaring up again. ‘Actually this was our first real date. I haven’t known Rupert long. He’s taken me out for a drink after work sometimes, but when he asked me out to dinner I suggested he came round here instead. So tonight was rather special.’

      ‘And I wrecked it.’ Nick drank some wine, his eyes sombre. ‘Something I’m bloody good at where the Lovells are concerned.’

      ‘Oh, get on with your supper,’ she said irritably. ‘After all,’ she added, trying to be fair, ‘when it comes to wrecking lives it was Max who did the demolition job on Julia’s, not you.’

      ‘He’s not doing much better with Alice, either, if today is anything to go by,’ said Nick grimly. ‘Let’s talk about something else. You, preferably. I know you went to college. What did you read?’

      ‘I did a BA in secretarial administration.’ Cassie added more vegetables to Nick’s plate.

      ‘And after that?’ he prompted. ‘Go on. I’m interested.’

      ‘I did temping for a while. I liked the variety, and it gave me experience, and a chance to find a job I really liked. These days I provide administrative support to a team of eight at an investment bank in the City. The group analyses the credit quality of various companies and so on.’

      ‘And young Rupert is one of the team,’ stated Nick.

      ‘Yes.’ Cassie frowned at him. ‘And he’s only a couple of years younger than you, Nick Seymour.’

      ‘And what exactly is this “support” you give Rupert?’

      ‘Exactly what the rest of the team gets,’ she said evenly. ‘All of them travel a lot, and I spend hours on the phone organising their itineraries and co-ordinating meetings.’

      Nick grinned. ‘So it’s not just a spot of dictation and typing, then.’

      ‘No. I have all the usual keyboard skills, of course,’ said Cassie loftily, ‘but I use them to draft letters and presentations, mainly. I love my involvement in the job. I was able to smooth Rupert’s path quite a lot when he joined the team.’

      ‘As I said, lucky guy. Are you in love with him?’ added Nick casually.

      Instead of snubbing him, Cassie thought it over. ‘I’m certainly attracted to him,’ she said at last.

      ‘When I arrived the scene looked set for a very intimate evening, Cassie. Was he hoping to take you to bed at the end of it?’

      ‘It’s none of your business!’ she said angrily.

      ‘I apologise, Cassie,’ Nick said promptly, and gave her a hopeful smile. ‘Would there be pudding by any chance?’

      ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ she said, shaking her head as she got up to take his plate. ‘As it happens I do have a pudding for once—tartelet aux cerises, to be precise.’

      ‘Cherry tart—wonderful!’ he said with relish. ‘I don’t seem to have eaten much these past few days.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘There were hold-ups on a hotel construction in Riyadh. I’ve been on site there for the last two months, troubleshooting and generally getting everything back on schedule. I’ve been working all hours so I could get back to the UK for Christmas.’ Nick’s eyes gleamed as Cassie served him the warmed tart with a spoonful of whipped cream. ‘That looks good. My Somali cook out there had certain specialities he served at every meal. I’d be happy never to see a jacket potato again.’

      ‘They’re my staple diet,’ said Cassie. She topped up his wine glass and leaned back in her chair. ‘Four minutes or so in a microwave, a spoonful of cottage cheese, and dinner’s ready.’

      ‘So you don’t cook like this every night?’

      She chuckled. ‘I don’t cook like this any night.’

      His СКАЧАТЬ