Millionaire Under The Mistletoe

Ten

The rest of Christmas Day passed in a rush of laughter and joy. Miranda barely had any time alone with Callum, which only reinforced that her decision-not to ruin the day by dwelling on her problems with Flo and Adrian-had been the right one.

After breakfast the family gathered in the living room to open presents beside the Christmas tree. Miranda was astonished to find she was expected to join the family.

Everyone had brought small gifts for each other. CDs of favorite bands. Books. Aromatherapy lotions. Each carefully chosen. Callum gave her a lacy white apron that made her blush and everyone else giggle, and Miranda was relieved that she’d thought to bring a CD as a gift for him. Thankfully no one had any idea of the significance of his choice.

Her own gift to the family of a selection of small pots of herbs for the kitchen and a huge tin of mouthwatering iced biscuits cut into snowflake shapes was met with cries of delight.

As soon as that was over, Miranda belatedly called Flo and Adrian to wish them a merry Christmas, keeping the conversation deliberately upbeat, then headed for the kitchen. After a hectic, busy morning spent preparing the turkey for the family’s Christmas feast that night and the more time-consuming dishes that would be eaten the next day, Miranda whipped up a light lunch of roasted pumpkin soup with pesto and sour cream stirred through, served with freshly baked rolls on the side. It caused oohs of delight. And Miranda flushed with pleasure when Callum’s father commented, “You picked a winner, Callum.” Her gaze met Callum’s then skittered away under the heat and intensity she read there.

Don’t make more of it, she warned herself. She was only here because Callum had wanted a date to provide a distraction from Petra’s presence tomorrow.

That afternoon she focused on their Christmas dinner, and preparing what could be done in advance for Pauline’s party the next day. Although with the help she’d had from Callum’s mother as well as Lindsey and Anna, Miranda was starting to feel like a fraud. Even Callum and his brothers wandered in through the course of the afternoon to give a hand, the kitchen ending up full of action and much hilarity. It had been incredibly fun.

The hardest part had been keeping a straight face when Pauline looked around in bewilderment at all the food and demanded, “Who’s going to eat all of this? It’s far too much.”

“Have no fear, Mother,” Fraser said. “We’re growing men-there won’t be a crumb left.”

Miranda caught Callum suppressing a grin, and Hunter immediately marched his mother out on the pretext of needing her advice about how to best dry the Italian loafers he’d saturated the previous night.

“You shouldn’t have worn them to the carols, Hunter,” they heard Pauline say as she followed him out the kitchen, completely diverted.

“You’re fortunate to have such a wonderful family,” Miranda murmured to Callum.

“I know.”

It wasn’t only Callum who held Miranda enthralled…she was dangerously close to falling in love with his family.

And that she couldn’t afford.

His mother’s utter, unfeigned surprise the next day when the first of her birthday guests arrived made the whole loving deception worthwhile, Callum decided as he exchanged looks of satisfaction with his brothers.

“How did I not get the smallest whiff of this?” Pauline asked as cars crowded the forecourt in front of the house.

“It was supposed to be a secret,” said Callum.

“Though Dad nearly let the cat out of the bag five minutes after we arrived on Thursday,” said Fraser with a mock glare at his father.

“Never could keep a secret, your father.” Pauline gave her husband a fond smile, and Callum looked away to give them a private moment.

“I managed to keep it in all of yesterday,” said Robin, and everyone laughed.

But when Petra arrived with her father, tension filled the air as Callum stepped closer to Miranda. Petra gave Miranda a quick glance, and aside from the hurt in her eyes, showed little reaction.

But Callum was aware of Miranda shifting away from him, distancing herself. She didn’t like the deception he’d asked her to perform, Callum realized.

It grew even more sticky when Callum discovered that Gordon and Petra had been invited to stay with the family for the balance of the weekend and wouldn’t be leaving with the other guests.

“Trouble?” Fraser asked a little while later with a meaningful look in Petra’s direction.

Callum resisted the urge to snap at his brother. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good. Because despite the fact that Petra had the sense to dump you, Gordon remains important to our business.”

“You invited them to stay?” Callum stared at his brother in disbelief.

“Yes.” Fraser narrowed his gaze. “It shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

Callum sincerely hoped it wouldn’t become one-but he had already detected Gordon’s coolness toward Miranda.

When all the guests had arrived, everyone assembled in the large formal dining for a buffet-style birthday lunch. Callum stopped dead at the sight of Miranda. She’d changed into a red dress that clung softly to her curves. Everything about the dress shrieked touch me! He swallowed. How the hell was he supposed to resist such an invitation? In desperation he forced himself to focus on the spread she’d prepared. Miranda had surpassed herself. An ice sculpture dominated the centre of the table and she’d carried the winter wonderland theme through in the snowflake decorations suspended around the room, with masses of tall, white tapered candles lit to give an impression of glittering Christmas tree lights.

After lunch Pauline opened her gifts, and with every card she read out, her eyes grew increasingly dewy. Callum was surprised to see Miranda hand his mother a box lightly wrapped in tissue paper.

“Happy birthday,” Miranda said.

His mother pulled off the wrapping to reveal a half dozen brandy snaps filled with cream, and a finger lick at the end of one had her whimpering with delight.

It stunned Callum that Miranda had taken the care to make the sweet he’d told her his mother loved. But her consideration warmed his heart. For an instant he was guiltily conscious of the fact that she should be spending Christmas with her own mother and brother-not his.

As the afternoon passed, Miranda was supremely aware of Callum’s every move whenever they were together, and she grew increasingly uncomfortable with the number of times his fingers would brush hers, or his hand would settle on her waist, the fine, soft jersey fabric of her dress failing to present any substantial barrier to the warmth of his touch. She knew he was making certain that Gordon harbored no hopes of a reconciliation between his daughter and Callum. But she disliked the deceit and the flare of pain in Petra’s eyes. And on top of that, it troubled her deeply that she was deceiving Callum. He still had no idea of the damage Adrian had done to an Ironstone car…and more significantly that she hadn’t disclosed it to him.

Yet how could she? She couldn’t have gone against Adrian’s wishes. And ultimately it was Adrian’s problem. How would he ever learn to take responsibility for his life if she fixed all his problems for him? Look what a mess Flo made simply because she expected everyone to leap around and fix things for her. Her father treating Flo as a china doll had only worsened the problem.

But now Christmas was over. Adrian’s worry about being locked up over the holiday with little chance of bail was no longer valid. And every time her gaze connected with Callum’s, Miranda wished she hadn’t agreed to keep quiet until she returned to London. As much as she hadn’t wanted to raise something controversial on Christmas Day or his mother’s birthday, she now needed Callum to be in the picture.

Then maybe they could finally advance their strained relationship. But would he still even want to be friends when he found out she’d deceived him?

Tea had been served in delicate china cups. Miranda sneaked out to take a five-minute break in the downstairs study and decided she would call Adrian. Maybe he would agree to let her tell Callum the truth-presuming she got the opportunity.

Adrian answered his mobile on first ring. “What’s up, sis?”

She told him, and when he spoke again the breezy note had vanished. “No,” he said adamantly. “I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“On Monday when I get back, you said,” she reminded him.

“Maybe.”

He was trying to wriggle off the hook. Her brother must be truly scared of the consequences.

“It’s not going to get easier-and if you leave it too long, I’ll tell him myself.”

“I know that.” Adrian sounded so despondent she felt like an absolute witch. Then he said, “I’ve been getting threatening calls. I’ve managed to put them off because I told them you were away.”

“It doesn’t make any difference whether I’m there or not. I’ve told you-they’re not getting my money. Absolutely not.” She breathed deeply. “Look, Callum will give you a break.”

Adrian’s sin wasn’t anything like what their father had done. They couldn’t use that as a yardstick for judging Callum’s likely reaction. “I’m sure Callum will understand.” Miranda hoped that he would live up to her brave claim.

Adrian muttered something she was grateful she couldn’t make out, and then hung up.

Well, she’d handled that just beautifully!

“Why the frown?”

She started at the sound of Callum’s voice and discovered he was standing in front of her. Had he overheard her conversation? She hoped not.

She forced a smile. “Nothing much.”

“You were on the phone. Trouble? Is it your mother again?”

At least Callum hadn’t homed in on Adrian. “A little.”

“She takes advantage of you.” Callum held her gaze.

“And you,” she said.

“And me,” he conceded. “We’re not doing her any favors. By always fixing her problems, we’ve allowed her to become totally irresponsible.”

Miranda had reached that conclusion herself, but it still stung to hear it from Callum. It took sheer willpower to stop herself from defending Flo.

“I suppose I should butt out,” he said when she didn’t answer.

“No, you’re quite right. I need to stand up to her.”

There was sympathy in his eyes. “It won’t be easy.”

That was an understatement. Flo was going to rail against it, Miranda suspected. “No, it won’t be easy. And I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Sometimes one has to be cruel to be kind,” said Callum.

And Miranda suspected he was thinking not of Flo-but Petra.

After seeing the last of the guests off, Callum and his brothers trooped back into the house with his parents. Gordon had gone up to his room already.

His mother had been thrilled by the unexpected party and was still looking overwhelmed. “I should check on-”

“The kitchen is fine,” his father said firmly. “There are four women taking care of it, and one is a trained chef.”

“Then I suppose we can go to bed, then.”

Callum pecked his mother good-night on the cheek, and wasn’t surprised when his father quickly followed her up the stairs. He had a feeling his father was going to reap the benefits of the celebration.

A lull fell over the big house. Anna, Petra and Lindsey were helping Miranda tidy up, and his brothers had gone out to the stables to feed and rug up the horses, because Old Jim had gone home to spend the day with his even more elderly mother.

So Callum made his way to the kitchen to find Miranda. There had been worry in her eyes earlier-he wanted to check that she was okay. And he wanted to make sure that putting her into close proximity with Petra hadn’t made her too uncomfortable. She clearly didn’t like the deceit-despite his explanation that by his dating another woman, Gordon would forget all thoughts of a match between him and Petra.

Or at least that’s what he told himself right up until the moment he reached the kitchen and halted in the doorway.

She’d pulled a long double-breasted white chef’s jacket on over the red touch-me dress. He supposed he should be grateful that she wasn’t wearing the sexy apron he’d given her…

Seeing her rubbing down the black granite bench tops and steel-fronted appliances reminded him of the night in his town house and involuntarily his body hardened.

Even wearing that jacket, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever known.

He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and glanced around. There was no sign of Petra-or his brothers’ girlfriends-so he sauntered forward. “Hey, Cinderella, looks like the elves have been busy.”

“You’re mixing Christmas with fairy tales.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

She thought for a moment. “Nothing.”

“Where are Petra, Lindsey and Anna?” he asked.

“Probably in the bath by now-where all good princesses should be.” She smiled at him-and a blast of heat spread through him to settle low in his belly, building mercilessly on the arousal he already felt. “I think they’re both a bit shell-shocked by how tired you can get just from standing on your feet all day. I’m used to it,” she added quickly.

“Come and sit with me-I might even rub your poor abused feet.” He shot her a smoldering look from under heavy eyelids and watched with satisfaction as she colored.

Freeing his hands from his pockets, Callum led an unusually pliant Miranda into the sitting room, where flames licked at the logs in the grate and the lights of the Christmas tree twinkled.

He paused to fill up two glasses with tawny port and crossed to where she’d sunk down on the squashy couch with her feet tucked under her, the folds of the dress draped around her.

She looked so right here in his family home. His family liked her, he could tell. By the way Fraser teased her. By the way his mother had almost burst into tears when Miranda had given her the brandy snaps.

She fitted in.

He’d almost forgotten the deception of her accompanying him as a “fake” date. It felt so real.

When he’d decided weeks ago to help her attain her dream-and more financial independence-it had been so he could salve his conscience. He hadn’t expected the hunger that ate him every time he looked at her. He hadn’t expected to like her. And he certainly hadn’t expected his family to be so charmed by her.

When had his connection to her started to become so…emotional?

“What is it?” Miranda had taken a sip of the sweet port, but now she examined him standing in front of her, his legs apart, and male enough to make her forget all about the rich, nutty flavor of the liqueur that had delighted her only seconds earlier.

Callum wore a strange, bemused expression. The intensity in his eyes unfurled a restlessness deep within her.

He shook his head and laughed. “I think I’m going crazy.”

“You? Crazy?” She raised an eyebrow. “Never.”

But he didn’t laugh as she’d intended. Instead he stared at her until she shifted under that intimidating gaze.

“What is it that makes me forget about everything else when you’re around?”

“Now it’s my fault you’re going crazy?” She tried to laugh again, but found that her voice had dried up. His admission made her toes curl.

“Maybe not.” He crossed to a wall unit, where he pulled a drawer open and extracted a box. “You said once that your only weakness is dark chocolate.”

Her gaze lingered on Callum’s broad shoulders and trailed down to the long legs clad in dark trousers. Chocolate was no longer her only weakness…

“I couldn’t eat another thing,” she protested as he came toward her brandishing a bar of Lindt.

“Indulge me.” He tore the wrapper off. “Have you ever tasted dark chocolate and port together?”

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

“Then you haven’t lived.”

His voice was deep and throaty, and Miranda’s pulse went through the roof.

“Open your mouth.”

She never considered not obeying. Her lips parted. He placed a morsel on her tongue and the chocolate melted in her mouth. It tasted sublime.

“Now the port.”

He held the glass for her, and Miranda set her lips to the rim. Their eyes locked. He tipped the glass ever so slightly. The liquid mingled in her mouth with the rich sweet and flavor exploded on her tongue.

Callum set the glass down, and when he leaned forward to stroke her hair back from her face with gentle hands, her heart dropped.

“It’s been way too long since I’ve kissed you, Miranda.”

The moment had finally arrived. He’d brushed her lips too briefly yesterday morning during their walk, leaving her hungering for more. All day yesterday and today she’d waited, tension winding up within her.

Which made her feel even worse about not telling him about Adrian. He’d done so much to help her family, and all they’d been was Trouble with a capital T.

“You’re not going to stop me this time, are you?”

Was she so obvious? Tongue-tied, she shook her head.

“Good,” he purred.

His lips were firm on hers. He pulled her up against him and she became aware of the power of his body under the cotton shirt. His arms were strong around her.

He was all man.

She parted her lips and he devoured her. All hungry male. He gave a groan that turned her weak. She wanted him.

“That’s how to taste dark chocolate.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “But if we continue this, someone might walk in on us.” His laugh was breathless. “My brothers only went to feed the horses. One of them could return any second.”

She ran her fingertips over his jaw, pausing to rest them against the soft pad of his lower lip. His eyes ignited with passion and he sucked a finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

Her breathing quickened.

Removing her hand, he took her mouth, plundering it, filling every crevice with his tongue. He tasted of port, chocolate and aroused male, and when he’d finished, he lifted his head and she gazed into eyes heavy with desire.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.” His voice was hoarse. “Come up to my room with me.”

Unable to speak, she nodded.

Callum shoved his bedroom door shut with his foot, and-holding Miranda’s gaze-locked the door.

Her pupils darkened, consuming the caramel gold of her irises, and causing his body to shudder and harden in anticipation.

He shrugged his tie off, crossed the room, and dropped the tie across the railing of his huge four-poster bed.

Miranda followed more slowly.

He waited for her, unbuttoning his shirt. She stopped at the bottom of the bed, her eyes huge.

The edges of his shirt fell open. He reached for her and brought her close. Letting his fingers caress her nape, he speared them into the silken mass of hair and tilted her head back. Scanning her features, he saw no sign of resistance.

He had her. Alone. At last.

With a sigh of relief he unbuttoned the double row of buttons and pushed the chef’s jacket from her shoulders. His shirt, trousers, underpants and her sinful dress all followed, then he tumbled back onto the bed, taking her with him. She landed sprawled, all soft skin and tousled curls against his nakedness.

A moan of satisfaction shook him. “Kiss me, Miranda.”

She obliged, and her hair caressed him, tresses scented with the vanilla that teased his dreams. He played his hands over her shoulders, along her back, and his fingers encountered her bra strap. He undid the clasp. She lifted her torso, and as the halter-neck bra fell away she wriggled free.

Callum gasped.

Her breasts hung above him. Full, ripe curves that tempted him to touch…to taste.

He reached out reverently and caressed the berry nubs with gentle fingers. She arched sharply, and a keening sound broke from her throat. Seeking to taste her, he closed his mouth around the dark tip and sucked it. It hardened further, and he knew she was as desperate for him as he for her.

Keeping his mouth on her breast, he slid a hand down over the swell of her stomach and dipped between her legs-and found her moist and ready.

Before he could take the next step, her legs wrapped around his hips and she pushed herself upright, breaking the contact of his mouth on her.

Miranda rubbed herself along the rigid length of his erection. Callum nearly came apart. Only a brief bit of satin separated them from the final sweet connection they both sought. Impatiently he pushed the thin thong of her panties aside and, the delicate barrier gone, she sank down on him.

Pure ecstasy.

He growled in delight. Miranda moved above him and heat consumed him in a bright white flash. Clasping his hands over her hips, he fought to control the pace. But when she bent forward and outlined his mouth with her tongue, laving his lips, Callum moaned, his resolve crumbling. Then she sealed the caress with a kiss. And all the while he drove fiercely, desperately upward into her.

Callum shuddered, his body full of tension. She fell forward, boneless, breathless, on top of his chest, her hair silky against his cheeks, her fragrance embracing him.

And the heat exploded around them, tumbling them into the hot vortex of desire.