Married By Christmas

Oh, God, she had to get out of here, away from the noise, away from them!

‘I’m fine, Sally,’ she told her friend stiltedly, the smile she forced not quite managing to curve her lips. ‘I—I think I’ve had enough for one night. It’s my first time out for months,’ she babbled. ‘I’m obviously out of practice. I—I’ll call you.’ She put her champagne glass down on the nearest available table. ‘We’ll have lunch.’

Sally looked totally bewildered by Lilli’s sudden urgency to be gone. ‘But it’s only eleven-thirty!’

And the party would go on until almost morning. In the past Lilli would probably have been among the last to leave. But not tonight. She had to get out of here now. She had to!

‘I’ll call you, Sally,’ she promised distantly, turning to stumble across the room, muttering her apologies as she bumped into people on the way, blind to where she was going, just needing to escape.

She had a jacket somewhere, she remembered. It was in a room at the back of the house. And she didn’t want to leave without it, didn’t want to have to come back to this house again to collect it. She didn’t want to ever have to see Geraldine Simms again. Not ever!

Where had they stored the coats? Every room she looked in appeared to be empty. One of them turned out not to be as empty as it at first appeared, a young couple in there taking advantage of the sofa to make love. But there were no coats.

She would just abandon her damn coat in a minute, would send someone over tomorrow for it, would just have to hope that it was still here.

She thrust open another door, deciding that if this room proved as fruitless as the others she would quietly leave and find herself a taxi.

‘Oh!’ She gasped as she realised she had walked into what must be the main kitchen of the house. It wasn’t empty. Not that there were any chefs rushing around preparing the food for the numerous guests. No, all the food, put out so deliciously on plates in the dining-room, had been provided by caterers.

A man sat at a long oak table in the middle of the room, his dark evening suit and snowy white shirt, with red bow-tie, tagging him as part of the elegant gathering in the main part of the house. Yet he sat alone in the kitchen, strong hands nursing what looked to be a glass of red wine, the open bottle on the table beside him, the only light in the room a single spotlight over the Aga.

But Lilli could see the man well enough, his dark, overlong hair with distinguished strands of grey at the temples, grey, enigmatic eyes in a face that might have been carved from granite, all sharp angles and hard-hewn features. From the way his long legs stretched out beneath the table, he was a very tall man, well over six feet, if Lilli had to guess. She would put his age in the late thirties.

She also knew, from that very first glance, that she had never seen him before!

She really was very much out of touch with the party scene! Once upon a time she would have known all the other guests at any occasion she went to, which was ultimately the reason they had become so boring to attend. But tonight there were at least two men present that she hadn’t encountered at one of these parties before—one she didn’t know at all, the other she most certainly did!

Her mouth tightened at her thoughts. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you,’ she told the man distractedly, turning to leave.

‘Not at all,’ the man drawled in a weary voice. ‘It’s quite pleasant to meet another refugee from that free-for-all out there!’

Lilli turned slowly back to him, dark brows raised. ‘You aren’t enjoying the party?’

His mouth quirked into a humourless smile, and he took a swallow of the wine before answering. ‘Not particularly,’ he dismissed disgustedly. ‘If I had known—!’ He picked up the bottle and refilled his glass, turning back to Lilli and raising the bottle in her direction. ‘Can I offer you some wine? It’s from Gerry’s private stock,’ he explained temptingly. ‘Much preferable to that champagne being served out there.’ He waved the bottle in the direction of the front of the house.

Gerry... Only Geraldine’s really close friends shortened her name in that way. He also knew where Geraldine kept her cellar of wine.

Lilli looked at the man with new interest. He obviously was—or had been—a close friend of Geraldine Simms. And, while Geraldine might remain on good terms with her ex-lovers, she certainly didn’t give them up to another woman easily...

Lilli entered the kitchen fully, aware of the man’s gaze on her as she moved across the dimly lit room, able to tell by the cool assessment in those pale grey eyes that he liked what he saw. ‘I would love some wine,’ she accepted as she sat down at the table, not opposite him but next to him, pushing a long swathe of her dark hair over her shoulder as she did so, turning to look at him, green eyes dark, a smile curving lips coloured the same red as her dress. ‘Thank you,’ she added huskily.

‘Good.’ He nodded his satisfaction with her answer, standing up to get a second glass.

Now it was Lilli’s turn to watch him. She had been right about his height; he must be at least six feet four, the cut of his suit doing nothing to hide the powerfully muscled body beneath. It also did nothing to mask his obvious contempt for these elegant trappings of civilised company!

She had no doubt that Sally would also have described him as gorgeous!

Her smile faded somewhat as she vividly brought to mind that image of the other man Sally had called gorgeous tonight; her last vision had been of Geraldine Simms draped decoratively across him as the two of them talked softly together.

‘Thank you,’ she told the man as he sat down beside her to pour her wine, picking up the glass when it was filled to swallow a grateful gulp. She could instantly feel the warmth of the wine inside her, merging with the glasses of champagne she had already consumed.

‘Patrick Devlin.’ The man held out his hand.

‘Lilli.’ She shook his hand, liking its cool strength, his name meaning absolutely nothing to her.

He raised dark brows, still retaining his light hold on her hand. ‘Just Lilli?’

Her gaze met his, seeing a wealth of experience in those grey depths. Some of that experience had been with Geraldine Simms, she felt sure. ‘Just Lilli,’ she nodded, sensing his interest in her. And she intended to keep that interest...

‘Well, Just Lilli...’ He slowly released her hand, although his gaze still easily held hers. ‘As we’re both bored with this party, what do you suggest we do with ourselves for the rest of the evening?’ He quirked mocking lips.

She laughed softly, well versed in the art of seduction herself. ‘What do you suggest we do?’ she encouraged softly.

He turned back to sit with his elbows resting on the table, sipping his wine. ‘Well...we could count how many patterned tiles there are on the wall over there.’ He nodded to the wall opposite.

Lilli didn’t so much as glance at them. ‘I have no interest in counting tiles, patterned or otherwise,’ she returned dryly, drinking some of her own wine. He was right—this wine was much nicer than champagne. It was taking away the numbness she had felt earlier, too.

‘No? Oh, well.’ He shrugged at the playful shake of her head, refilling her glass. ‘We could swap life stories?’

‘Definitely not!’ There was an edge of bitterness to her laugh this time.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said. ‘We could bake a cake? We’re certainly in the right place for it!’ He looked about them.

‘Can you cook?’ Lilli prompted; he didn’t look as if he knew one end of a cooker—or Aga!—from the other!

He grinned at her, showing very white and even teeth—and unlike most of the men here tonight, she would swear that he’d had none of them capped. ‘No one has yet complained about my toast,’ he drawled. ‘And I’ve been told I pour a mean glass of orange juice!’

She nodded as he gave her the answer she had expected. ‘And a mean glass of wine.’ She raised her glass as if in a salute to him.

He poured the last of the wine into her glass. ‘I’ll open another bottle.’ He stood up, moving confidently about the kitchen, walking to the cupboard at the back of the room, emerging triumphantly seconds later with a second bottle of the same wine.

Which he then proceeded to open deftly, refilling his own glass before sitting down next to Lilli once again. ‘Your turn. To make some suggestions,’ he elaborated huskily at her questioning look.

His words themselves were suggestive, but at this particular moment Lilli didn’t care. She was actually enjoying herself, and after the shock she had received earlier this evening that was something in itself.

‘Let me see...’ She made a show of giving it some thought, happily playing along with the game. ‘Do you play chess?’

‘Tolerably,’ he replied.

‘Hmm. Draughts?’

‘A champion,’ he assured her confidently. ‘That’s the one with the black and white discs—’

‘Not draughts, either,’ Lilli laughed, green eyes glowing, her cheeks warm, whether from the effect of the wine and champagne, or their verbal flirtation, she wasn’t really sure.

And she didn’t care, either. This man was a special friend of Geraldine Simms’, she was sure of it, and at this moment she had one hundred per cent of his attention. Wonderful!

‘Snakes and ladders?’ she suggested lightly.