Christmas Gift: A Family

‘I feel so unprepared for meeting Ivy,’ he said. ‘I don’t like being unprepared. How the hell does a bachelor suddenly come to terms with caring for a child?’

‘He hires a nanny?’

‘Well, yes,’ he admitted with a wry grimace. ‘A nanny will be essential. But I’ll still have to do the whole fatherhood thing.’

‘At least Ivy’s not a baby. She can talk to you and express her needs. I’m sure you’ll become great mates with her.’

‘Mates?’ He couldn’t have looked more stunned if she’d suggested that Ivy would take over as CEO of his business.

‘Good friends,’ she amended.

‘With a five-year-old little girl?’

Jo thought of the warm lifelong friendship she’d shared with her mum. ‘Why not?’

Hugh shook his head. ‘A boy might have been easier. At least I have inside knowledge of how little boys tick.’

‘Don’t be sexist. There are lots of little girls who like the same things as boys. Grace and Tilly love to play cricket and go fishing. So do I, for that matter.’

‘Do you?’ He regarded her with a look that was both amused and delighted, but then he frowned and with his elbows resting on the veranda railing he stared down into the plumbago bush. ‘But what if Ivy turns on a horrendous scene? It would be horrible if she cried all the way home on the flight back to London.’

‘Goodness,’ cried Jo. ‘You’re a walking advertisement for the power of positive thinking, aren’t you?’

For a moment he looked put out, and then he smiled. ‘You’re right. I’m normally on top of things, so I guess I should be able to handle this.’ He sent Jo an extra devilish smile. ‘With a little expert help.’

Gulp. ‘Just remember Ivy is your flesh and blood,’ she said. ‘She’s probably a chip off the old block.’

‘Which would mean she’s charming and well-mannered, even-tempered, good-looking and highly intelligent.’

‘You missed conceited.’

Hugh chuckled softly and then he glanced up and seemed suddenly fascinated by something above her head. ‘Is that mistletoe hanging above you?’

Jo tipped her head back. Sure enough there was a bunch of greenery dangling from a hook in the veranda roof. ‘I can probably blame one of my brothers for that.’ She rolled her eyes, trying to make light of it, but as she looked at Hugh again his smile lingered and something about it sent shivers skittering through her.

How silly. This reserved Englishman had no intention of kissing her. And, even if he did, why should she get all shivery at the thought of a quick Christmas peck?

But her jumping insides paid absolutely no attention to such common sense.

Hugh gave an easy shrug of his shoulders and his eyes held hers as he murmured ever so softly in his super-sexy English voice, ‘Tradition is terribly important, Jo. And you’re under the mistletoe and it is Christmas.’

Her stomach began a drum roll.

CHAPTER THREE

SOMETHING deep and dark in Hugh’s gaze made Jo’s pulses leap to frantic life.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, calm down, girl.

Why was she getting so worked up about a friendly Christmas kiss?

Because Hugh is gorgeous!

She took a step closer to him and Hugh’s hand cupped her elbow as if to support her. She hoped he didn’t notice that she was trembling.

And then, without warning, he dipped his head. ‘Happy Christmas, Jo.’

She pursed her lips for a quick peck and let her body tilt forward. But the anticipated peck didn’t take place.

Instead Hugh’s lips settled warmly on hers and suddenly he was kissing her. Properly. Or she was kissing him? It no longer mattered. All that mattered was that it was a full-on kiss.

She could blame the champagne. Or the heat. No, she would blame Hugh, because he was far too gorgeous and far too expert at kissing. There had to be some logical reason to explain how a simple mistletoe kiss became so thorough and lasted for such a long and lovely time.

Yes, she would blame Hugh because at some point his hands slipped around her waist, and then it was incredibly easy and seemed perfectly OK to nestle in against him. His arms bound her close against his strong, intensely masculine body and his mouth, tasting faintly of coffee, delved hers expertly and with daring intimacy.

Without warning, a flood of unexpected yearning washed over her. Her insides went into meltdown. Soft, hungry little sounds rumbled low in her throat as she pushed closer into Hugh.

Oh, man. Never had she experienced a kiss that was so instantly shattering.

The sound of footsteps brought her plummeting back to earth. With a little whimper of disappointment, she broke away.

Hugh let her go and he stood very still with his shoulders squared and his hands by his sides, watching her intently and not quite smiling. Only his accelerated breathing betrayed that he’d been as aroused by the kiss as she had.

Taking a deep breath, Jo shot a scowl back over her shoulder to see who’d interrupted them.

It was Bill and Eric and their mouths were hanging wide open.

‘What’s eating you two?’ she demanded angrily. ‘Haven’t you ever seen someone get kissed under the mistletoe before?’

Eric’s face was sheepish. ‘Not like that.’

‘Get lost,’ she said, feeling flustered. ‘Finish those dishes.’

They vanished. Which left her with Hugh, who’d gone quiet again. In fact he was looking so uncomfortable that she wondered suddenly if he regretted the kiss. Damn him. He’d probably only kissed her to get closer to her—to ensure that she would accompany him to Agate Downs.

But he’d been so passionate, so involved.

Good grief. She was trying to read too much into the kiss. Hugh had simply reacted to the Christmas tradition. And she’d been carried away. Look how calm he was now.

Nevertheless, their easy conversation was over. They carried their coffee cups back to the kitchen and soon afterwards Hugh said polite farewells and set off for the pub. He left without any special word for Jo.