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Christmas Ever After. Sarah MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.

Christmas Ever After - Sarah Morgan


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spoke. “That’s great.” Her voice was just a little too bright. “We thought he wasn’t going to make it.”

      “Last-minute decision.”

      “Why the change of heart?”

      Sky wondered why the question should make her uncomfortable when she’d asked herself the same question. “He shifted his schedule. I guess that’s a sign that he cares.”

      “Right. Well, we’re glad he came through for you.” Brittany’s tone was warm. “I hope having him there makes tonight even more special.”

      They didn’t say anything more. They didn’t have to.

      She knew they worried about her relationship with Richard.

      Now that he’d won his senate seat, she needed to persuade him to spend more time with her friends. She was sure that if he knew them better, he’d love them as she did.

      “I have to go.”

      “Call us later! And if you see Lily and Nik, give them my love.”

      The call left her smiling and she was still smiling as she stepped out of the cab.

      The gallery was nestled between an antiques store and an exclusive boutique. Taking pride of place in the window of the gallery was one of her favorite pieces, a vase modeled on an ancient Greek amphora, the birds twisting sinuously against luminous blue glass.

      Tempest Designs.

      Maybe it had started as a hobby, but now it was a business. She had a small but exclusive international clientele and this was her first show in London. To be able to support herself doing something she loved had made the dream a reality.

      So why were her mother’s words the loudest thing in her head?

       You’re the only one without a job.

      She paid the driver, reminding herself that Richard believed in her. He’d chosen to fly over for the weekend, which had to be the ultimate in romantic gestures and proof he was taking her choice of career seriously.

      It didn’t matter what her parents thought.

      This was her big night and nothing was going to spoil it.

      ALEC HUNTER LEFT the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, shoulders hunched against the sharp bite of the wind and the falling snow. He’d planned a late-afternoon stroll along the river but the lecture he’d delivered had ended later than planned and afternoon had blended into evening.

      In front of him the River Thames wound, ribbonlike, toward the bright lights of the city. He turned up the collar of his coat, pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked upriver.

      He had four messages.

      One from the BBC following up on the meeting they’d had earlier in the week to discuss his possible involvement with a documentary on Antarctica, one from his mother asking him to buy extra champagne, one from his younger sister telling him he’d better have bought her a great present or he needn’t bother coming home.

      That one made him smile.

      He texted her back and received a flurry of emoticons in return.

      The final text was from his friends back in the United States, reminding him that tonight was the VIP night for Skylar’s exhibition.

      He could imagine them, gathered together in Harbor House on Puffin Island, sharing a bottle of wine and laughing while they sent a joint text.

      You need to be there, Alec. The rat boyfriend has decided to show up and Skylar needs the support of her friends.

      Rat boyfriend?

      Several thoughts flitted through his mind. The first was that he and Skylar could hardly be described as “friends.” On a good day they tolerated each other for the sake of their wider friendship group; on a bad day they barely managed to be civil. His second thought was that Skylar’s choices in her relationships appeared to be no better than his own, and the third was that Brittany clearly had no idea how far Greenwich was from Knightsbridge.

      He checked the time and calculated that by the time he got across town in the traffic, her VIP night would be over. But if he didn’t at least show his face, his life wouldn’t be worth living.

      Brittany and Emily would both kill him and Ryan would cut off his supply of free beer at the Ocean Club bar.

      With a faint smile he texted a reply promising to go and pocketed his phone.

      He doubted Skylar would be pleased to see him, but he would have done his duty and with any luck would still be invited to spend Christmas at Harbor House.

      Skylar, he knew, would be going home to her family in Long Island.

      Walking away from the river to the street, he hailed a cab.

      It was going to take a lifetime to cross London but hopefully he’d make it before the evening was over.

      He’d congratulate her, she’d smile politely, he’d leave.

      Duty done.

      THE ROOM WAS BUZZING.

      “The turnout is amazing.” Judy, the owner of the gallery, was on her second glass of champagne. “Do you see who is over there? Cristiano Ferrara. He owns an exclusive hotel chain. Sicilian.” She lowered her voice. “Very sexy.”

      “And very married. He commissioned a piece of jewelry for his wife, Laurel. She’s pregnant.” And that, Sky thought, was romantic. Not a stark piece of paper that declared you husband and wife, but thoughtful, loving gestures that showed how much you cared.

      It was her favorite type of commission.

      A gift designed as an expression of love.

      And there was no doubt how much Cristiano loved his beautiful wife. When people approached him he was polite, but it was obvious that tonight was a treat for his wife and she was the focus of his attention. He looked at Laurel as if she were the sun, the moon and the stars all in one perfect package.

      Sky watched them wistfully.

      She wanted that. She wanted that intense passion, but most of all she wanted someone who thought she was the best thing on the planet.

      Confused, Sky glanced across at Richard, who was working the room.

      Did he feel that way about her?

      And could she feel that for him? Did she feel enough? Was this all it was? Her head was full of questions she couldn’t answer.

      She’d always believed that if she ever fell in love, she’d recognize the feeling instantly, but maybe it wasn’t that simple.

      Richard had been the last to arrive and had barely paused to greet her before vanishing into the crowd. Now he was talking to Nik Zervakis, the wealthy Greek-American owner of ZervaCo, who had flown in with his fiancée, Lily, an archaeology friend of Brittany’s who had helped Sky with ideas for her new collection.

      “Nik has given me free rein to buy anything I like,” Lily confided. “So far I’ve bought those gorgeous starfish earrings and that pot in the corner. It’s similar to one he already has at his home in Greece.”

      “Your home, too.”

      “Yes, my home! Unbelievable, isn’t it? I still want to pinch myself every day.”

      “How did you know?” Sky’s mouth was dry. “How did you know he was the right one? That this really was love?”

      “That’s a difficult question.” Lily pondered, her eyes on Nik. “I can’t describe it. But sometimes it feels as if my heart is too big for my chest.” She gave a half smile and walked over to the pot. “I really do love this.”

      “I should be giving you that, no charge. None of this would have happened without your help. You’re the Greek ceramics expert.”

      “Not


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