Maids Under The Mistletoe Collection. Christy McKellenЧитать онлайн книгу.
ran a hand through his hair, messing up the neat waves and making her long to smooth it back down for him. ‘I don’t have time to arrange it right now. I’m snowed under at work.’
‘I can do it,’ she said before she could check herself. ‘If you like,’ she added less forcefully, pulling her arms tightly across her middle. ‘I can’t work at the moment anyway, so I may as well make myself useful.’
He looked up at her with a smile of relief. ‘That would be great, if you wouldn’t mind. Spend whatever you think necessary—’
She gave an involuntary grimace at that and he frowned as if realising what a tactless thing that was to say to her.
‘I’ll transfer some money to you to get started and if you need any more, just let me know.’
‘Okay. Should I give you my account details now?’ she asked, feeling incredibly awkward about discussing money with him, especially with the word gold-digger still floating around her mind.
‘Sure. Go ahead,’ he said, opening up an app on his phone and tapping in the numbers she gave him. ‘I’ll do a transfer as soon as I get to my desk. ‘I’ve got a meeting in Belgravia now so I’ll get out of your way.’
Emma was frustrated that they were dancing so politely around each other like this, with neither of them making any mention of their moment under the mistletoe yesterday. But then what was there to say? Nothing had actually happened.
They’d not talked at all on the journey back from Cambridge because Jack had been on the phone to his colleagues in America the whole time dealing with a crisis that had arisen, then he’d excused himself the moment they’d walked into the house, citing the need to do more work. She suspected he’d actually been avoiding having to talk about what was hanging in the air between them.
She followed him into the hallway, where Jack grabbed his coat from the cloakroom.
It can’t have meant as much to him as it had to her, she decided with a sting of sadness.
It had probably just been a moment of camaraderie to him after a long and stressful day. But that was all. It hadn’t meant anything more than that.
Disappointment was doing something funny to her insides, but she squashed the feeling quickly.
‘Have a good day. I’ll see you later,’ Jack said, sliding his arms into his overcoat and giving her a tight smile.
She nodded solemnly, not wanting to give away how disconcerted she felt about being left alone with the press still hanging around the front of the building. Not that she’d ever admit that to Jack. She didn’t want him thinking he had to mollycoddle her.
‘Are you sure you trust me to redecorate your house?’ she blurted in a moment of nervousness, belatedly adding a twinkle of mirth to her expression so he’d see she was only joking. The idea of being let loose on this place—to have such a fun project to get immersed in—filled her with utter joy.
Flashing her a wry smile back, he leant his arm against the wall next to her and regarded her with a mock stern stare. ‘If I find you’ve kitted the whole house out in rubber and woodchip I will not be pleased. Other than that, go for your life. I’ll be interested to see what you do with the place. It’s crying out for a make over and you’ve always had great taste.’
‘You think so?’ she said, surprised by the out-of-left-field compliment.
He shot her a grin. ‘You married me, didn’t you?’
She couldn’t stop her mouth from twisting with amusement. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’
‘I never could with you, my darling.’ He leaned in a bit closer to her, capturing her gaze, and the mood changed in a second, the air seeming to crackle between them, the quiet in the hallway suddenly sounding too loud, the colours around them too bright.
Clearing his throat with a rough cough, Jack stepped back, snapping the mood, and Emma found she was digging her nails into her palms.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he said, turning on the spot and striding away to pull the door open, then slamming it shut behind him.
The sound of him leaving reverberated around the hallway, making her suddenly feel very, very alone in the big empty house.
* * *
It took Emma a good twenty minutes to come down from her jittery high after Jack left.
Crikey, it was going to be hard, living here with him and having to get through those moments when they both became uncomfortably aware of how happy they’d once been together, but how much had come between them since.
Despite her body telling her she wanted him, more desperately than she could believe, she knew deep down that hoping things would get physical between them was foolish when their feelings about each other were so tangled. It would only make living together more problematic than it already was.
Sighing, she made her way to the kitchen to put the kettle on for a much-needed cup of tea.
At least throwing herself into redecorating the house would give her something to distract herself from thinking about him all the time.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing in her back pocket. Plucking it out, she was pleased to see Grace’s name flash up on the screen.
‘Hello, you, how’s it going?’
‘I was going to ask you the same thing. I hope you don’t mind, but Sophie filled me in on what happened after Jolyon’s party and I read about the rest of it in the papers. Nice photo of you and your husband on the Babbler website by the way.’
‘Er—thanks.’ Was the picture out already? She hadn’t expected it to appear for another few days. Thank goodness her mother never looked at the internet and was unlikely to see any of the news articles over in France.
‘Are you okay, Emma? You must be having a rough time with the press camped out on your doorstep,’ Grace asked in her usual no-nonsense manner.
There was a long pause where Emma tried to form a coherent sentence about how she felt about it all.
Where to begin?
‘Yes, I’m fine. It all feels like a dream, to be honest, but we’re handling it.’
‘So you really are married to an earl?’ There was a note of gleeful fascination in her friend’s voice now.
‘I am.’ She swallowed, feeling her earlier nervousness returning. ‘Although for how much longer I don’t know,’ she blurted.
There was a pause on the line. ‘Really? Are things difficult between you?’
Emma sighed, annoyed with herself for losing her cool like that. She didn’t want Grace to worry about her; her friend had enough on her plate. ‘No, no, it’s fine, ignore me. I’m just a bit stressed at the minute. I’m supposed to be interior designing the downstairs of the house we’re living in for a photo shoot a week on Friday and I have absolutely no idea where to start.’
There was another small pause on the line before Grace spoke again. ‘You know, I worked in a lovely boutique hotel in Chelsea called Daphne’s a while ago. It has every bedroom decorated in a style from a different time period and the communal rooms are done out in a really cool and quirky way. It would be a great place to get some inspiration.’
‘Ooh, I think I know it,’ Emma said, feeling excitement begin to bubble in her stomach. ‘I read an article about it a while ago. I’ve been meaning to go and have a peek at it. It looked like a fascinating place.’
‘You should,’ Grace said. ‘I’m sure the manager would jump at the chance to show you around if you suggested that you were thinking about hiring the place for your vow-renewal ceremony.’
Emma tried to ignore the twist of unease that the mention of renewing their vows