A Puppy for Christmas: On the Secretary's Christmas List / The Patter of Paws at Christmas / The Soldier, the Puppy and Me

Not only had Bree called off the wedding, but the scandal of David and Cathy’s several-months-long affair had ripped a hole in Bree’s family that still hadn’t completely healed.

So, yes, Bree knew exactly why she had so impetuously agreed to go out with Roger Tyler this evening. Her acceptance was based not on any attraction Bree might or might not feel towards him, but because she desperately needed a diversion from her feelings of hurt and betrayal. Of inadequacy. Because David had so obviously preferred her older sister to her.

Feelings like that didn’t seem half so important when a man like Roger Tyler had invited her out to dinner!

Doubts had begun creeping in after Roger had left Beaumont House—to the point where Bree had spent the afternoon toying with the idea of telephoning him to say that she couldn’t make it this evening after all!

Jackson’s obvious surprise that she was going out on a date, along with his cynical teasing, had brought about a complete change of heart on her part. Bree no longer cared whether or not Roger Tyler was a man she could trust—she had every intention of going out to dinner with him now. If only to prove to Jackson that she wasn’t the unattractive piece of furniture he obviously believed her to be!

Her chin rose stubbornly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help out with Danny this evening, Jackson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and get ready.’

Jackson reached out and placed a hand on Bree’s arm as she turned away.

‘What aren’t you telling me …?’ He looked down at her searchingly.

She laughed lightly, dismissively. ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever had the sort of relationship where we’ve confided about our private lives to each other, Jackson!’

No, they hadn’t, Jackson acknowledged with a frown. And he had always been grateful for Bree’s silence on the subject before today; he

couldn’t abide women who wanted to fill you in on every minute detail of their lives. Yes, in the past Jackson had always been glad that Bree kept her own counsel. Until now.

There was something different about Bree this afternoon. A brittleness. An air of recklessness he had never seen in her before. Almost as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump over—

What the hell …?

As Bree had already pointed out, she was a grown woman and could do exactly as she wished in her free time. And if her dinner date this evening meant that Jackson couldn’t go out after all, then that was just too bad. Hell, Bree was as entitled to a social life as he was.

Except she’d never had one until tonight …

He gave a tense, irritated shrug. ‘I feel a sense of responsibility for you—’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jackson!’ Bree snapped with irritation. ‘I’m not your daughter!’

‘You live in my house …’

‘I live in the basement apartment as part of the wages you pay me—not in your house.’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘And if I were a man you wouldn’t be asking me these ridiculous questions!’

If Bree were a man Jackson wouldn’t have felt that stirring of physical interest in her earlier either!

‘Come and play with me, Bree.’

Jackson had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed Danny joining them until he spoke at his side. Looking down, he saw that his son carried the now-panting puppy in his arms. It had been love at first sight for both of them when Danny had come home from school and rushed into Bree’s office to see his Christmas present from Granny.

Jackson took great delight in seeing the way his mother cringed every time Danny called her that; only her deep love for the little boy kept her silent on the subject. Jackson found that he could forgive his mother for a lot of things when he saw the genuine love she had for her grandson.

‘Bree can’t play right now, Danny, because she has to go and get ready to go out this evening.’ Jackson sank down on his haunches beside his son.

Danny looked up at Bree with guileless blue eyes. ‘You’re going out?’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Jackson heard her mutter under her breath as she shot him an irritated glance before forcing a smile for Danny. ‘I’ll only be gone for a little while,’ she reassured him lightly.

‘Don’t worry, Danny, I’ll wait up and make sure that Bree arrives home safely,’ Jackson drawled smoothly.

Bree narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary, thank you.’

‘No problem,’ he dismissed lightly, straightening up. ‘Be sure and come into the main house to let me know you’re back, won’t you? Otherwise I’ll only worry.’

Bree wasn’t fooled for a moment by those innocent blue eyes Jackson levelled on her—he was enjoying himself now, damn him. At her expense. And all because she had impulsively accepted a dinner invitation from a man she didn’t even have any real interest in!

It had all seemed so romantic eighteen months ago, when she and David had decided on a pre-Christmas wedding. An occasion and a time of year that would always have special significance for them both. As it turned out that Christmas had been nothing but a nightmare for Bree, lost in a haze of crying and heartbreak, of family rows and the slamming of doors, until she hadn’t been able to stand it any more and had moved into the anonymity of a hotel in order to escape it all. Which was the very reason she had been so desperate and homeless when she’d come for her interview with Jackson almost a year ago.

Bree had so wanted it to be different this year, had so wanted to be able to enjoy Christmas again—and had been sure that she could do so with Danny’s help. There was something about children and Christmas that no adult could resist.

And Bree had almost managed to fool herself—until she had realised earlier that it should have been her first wedding anniversary today. Not that Bree had even a residual ounce of love for David left inside her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still grieve for her own lost hopes and dreams.

To now find herself the butt of Jackson’s warped sense of humour was just too much!

She gave him a sweet, insincere smile. ‘Of course, Daddykins!’

Danny gave a giggle. ‘Did you hear that, Daddy? Bree called you Daddykins!’

As Bree had hoped, Jackson’s mocking blue eyes were now totally devoid of humour. ‘I heard what she called me,’ Jackson bit out tersely, glaring at Bree over Danny’s head. ‘Just make sure you let me know you’re back so that I can be sure everywhere is locked up after you.’

When he put it like that it was a reasonable request; there were security gates at the end of the driveway that Bree would have to come through, and an alarm system fitted in her apartment as well as in the main house. Human safety apart, Jackson had some very expensive photographic equipment in his studio, as well as several original paintings in the house.

‘Will do,’ she breezed flippantly. ‘Have a pleasant evening, you two.’

Jackson knew he should have wished her the same, and yet as he watched Bree leave something held him back.

It was that recklessness he sensed in her, perhaps, and the image he’d had of her earlier, standing on the edge of that cliff …

CHAPTER FOUR

IT WAS almost midnight when Bree quietly let herself into the darkness of Beaumont House, moving softly through the silence to the kitchen and out into the entrance hall, before making her way to the sitting room, where she could hear the low murmur of the television. Jackson had evidently waited up for her to return from her dinner date as promised.

Or not, Bree realised with wry amusement as she entered the sitting room and observed Jackson, sleeping peacefully in one of the armchairs. The fire in the hearth had burnt down to just a few hot coals; only the flickering television and the coloured lights on the Christmas tree illuminated the comfortable room.

Bree crossed the room with the intention of switching off the television, only to hesitate beside Jackson’s chair. She had never seen him asleep before—there was no reason why she should have—and she couldn’t help noticing how much younger he looked without that mocking glint in his eyes and that cynical twist to those sensual lips. His golden honey-and-molasses hair had fallen untidily over his brow, which only added to that illusion of boyishness.

Because it was an illusion, Bree told herself sternly; Jackson was both mocking and cynical. And sarcastic. And rude. And completely impossible. And—

And quite possibly the most sensually handsome man Bree had ever set eyes on.

She had been both hurt and hurting when she’d first come to work for Jackson almost a year ago. Totally disillusioned with all men. And the often outrageous, too-handsome Jerome Jackson Beaumont was a man who enjoyed the constant stream of women coming and going in and out of his life—and his bed. Or rather the woman’s bed; Danny’s presence at Beaumont House meant that Jackson never brought women back here to spend the night with him.

All that had only served to confirm Bree’s belief that men simply weren’t capable of faithfulness and love for one single woman.

Which didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate what all those other women saw in Jackson!