Maybe This Christmas (34 page)

Snow Crystal was muted and peaceful. Never, in the turmoil of her past, had she imagined one day living in a place like this.

She knew how close the O’Neil family had come to losing it. She knew things were still far from secure and that losing it was still a very real possibility. She was determined to do everything she could to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Can you find me another carpenter? Are you sure you’ve tried everyone?”

“There is no one. Sorry.” Looking tired, Kayla shook her head. “I already made some calls.”

“In that case we are all doomed.”

“No one is doomed, Élise!”

“We will have to delay the opening and cancel the party. You have invited so many important people. People who could spread the word and help grow the business.
Je suis désolée.
The Boathouse is my responsibility. Jackson asked me for an opening date and I gave him one. I anticipated a busy summer. Now if Snow Crystal has to close we will all lose our jobs and our home and it will be my fault.”

“Don’t worry, with your talent for drama you could easily get a job on Broadway.” Kayla paced the deck, obviously thinking. “We could hold the party in the restaurant?”

“No. It was supposed to be a magical, outdoor evening that will showcase the charm of our new café. I have it all arranged—food, lights, dancing on the deck—the deck that isn’t finished!” Frustrated and miserable, Élise walked into her little kitchen and picked up the bag of food she’d packed for the family. “Let’s go. They’ve been at the hospital for hours. They will be hungry.”

As they walked along the lake path to the car, Élise thought again what a good thing it was that Jackson had employed Kayla. She’d arrived at Snow Crystal only six months earlier, the week before Christmas, to put together a public relations campaign that would boost the resort’s flagging fortunes. The intention had been that she would stay a week and then return to her high-powered job in New York, but that had been before she’d fallen in love with Jackson O’Neil.

Élise felt a rush of emotion.

Calm, strong Jackson. He was the reason she was here, living this wonderful life. He’d saved her. Rescued her from the ruins of her own life. He’d given her a way out from a problem of her own making, and she’d taken it. He was the only one who knew the truth about her. She owed him everything.

The Boathouse Café was a way of repaying him.

Élise had always known that Snow Crystal needed something more than the formal restaurant and the small, cramped coffee shop that had been part of the resort since it was built.

On her first stroll down to the lakeshore she’d seen the derelict boathouse and envisaged a café right on the water’s edge. Now her dream was almost reality. She’d worked with a local architect and together they’d created something that matched her vision and satisfied the planners.

The new café had glass on three sides so that no part of the view was lost to those dining indoors. During the winter the doors would be kept closed, but in the summer months when the weather allowed, the glass walls could be pulled back to allow guests to take maximum advantage of the breathtaking position.

In the summer most of the tables would be set on the wide deck, a sun-trap that stretched across the water. The building should have been finished in June, but bad weather had delayed essential work and then Zach had crashed the bike.

Kayla slid behind the wheel and drove carefully out of the resort. “How long do you think Sean will stay?”

“Not long.”

And that suited her perfectly.

They probably wouldn’t even have any time alone together and she wasn’t going to worry about something that didn’t represent a threat.

Sean was entertaining company, charming and yes, insanely sexy, but her emotions weren’t engaged. And they never would be. Never again.

Memories slid into her, dark and oppressive and she gave a little shiver and stared hard at the forest, reminding herself that she was in Vermont, not Paris. This was her home now.

And it wasn’t as if she was living without love.

She had the O’Neils. They were her family.

That thought stayed in her head as they arrived at the hospital and it was still in her head as Kayla walked into Jackson’s arms.

She saw Kayla reach out her hand and curl her fingers into Jackson’s. Saw her friend rise up on the balls of her feet and brush her lips over his in a kiss that somehow managed to be both discreet and intimate. In that moment she’d ceased to exist for either of them. Their emotions were definitely engaged.

Witnessing it robbed her of breath.

She felt a pang and looked away quickly.

She didn’t want that.

“I will go and see Walter and drop off this food while you two catch up. Give me the keys, Kayla.” She held out her hand. “You can go home with Jackson later. I will try to persuade Alice to come back with me now.”

She didn’t succeed. Walter looked pale and fragile and when she eventually left the room it was with the image of Alice, his wife of sixty years, sitting by his side with her hand on his, her knitting abandoned in her lap as if by holding hands they might prevent their life together from unraveling.

All Alice had talked about was Sean. Her belief in her grandson’s ability to perform miracles was as touching as it was worrying.

Élise was on her way out of the hospital when she saw him.

He walked with confidence and authority, comfortable in the sterile atmosphere of the high-tech medical facility. The well-cut suit and pristine white shirt couldn’t conceal the width of his shoulders or the leashed power of his body, and her heart gave a little dance in her chest.

Despite the air-conditioning, her skin heated.

It had been just one night, but it wasn’t a night she was likely to forget and she doubted he would, either.

Like her, Sean had no interest in forming deep romantic relationships. His job demanded control and emotional detachment. The fact that he applied the same rules to his personal life had made everything simple.

She walked briskly across the foyer toward him, determined to prove to herself and anyone who happened to be watching that this meeting wasn’t awkward. “Sean—” she rose on tiptoe, placed her hand on his shoulder and kissed him on both cheeks. “
Ça va?
I’m so sorry about Walter. You must be out of your mind worried.”

It was fine. Not awkward at all. Maybe her English wasn’t as fluent as usual, but that sometimes happened when she was tired or stressed.

As her cheek brushed against the roughness of his jaw she was almost knocked flat by a rush of sexual chemistry. Rocked off-balance, she tightened her fingers on his shoulder, feeling the thickness of muscle through the fabric of his suit. If she moved slightly to the left she’d be kissing his mouth and it shocked her just how much she wanted to do that.

Sean’s head turned slightly. His gaze met hers and for a moment she was mesmerized.

His eyes were the same startling blue as his twin brother’s but she’d never felt anything this dangerously potent when dealing with Jackson. Some people might have waxed lyrical about blue skies or sapphires but for her those eyes were all about sex. For a moment she forgot the people around them, forgot everything except the sexual energy and memories of that one night. She hadn’t closed her eyes and neither had he. Through the whole breath-stealing madness of it, they’d held that connection and it was all she could think of as she lowered her heels to the floor and stepped back.

Her heart was racing. Her mouth was dry. It took all her willpower to let go of his shoulder. “How was your journey?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Have you eaten? I brought food. Alice has the bag.”

“I don’t suppose that bag contains a good Pinot Noir?”

It was a typically Sean response.

Even in a crisis he projected calm. It washed over her, as welcoming as cool air in a heat wave and for the first time since that awful moment when Walter had collapsed at her feet she felt her mood lift slightly. It was as if someone had taken off some of the weight she’d been carrying.

“No Pinot Noir. But there is homemade lemonade.”

“Oh, well, a guy can’t have everything. If you made it, I’m sure it’s good.” He loosened his tie with long, strong fingers, cool and composed, and she wondered if he remembered it had been Pinot Noir they’d drunk that night. “Where is the rest of my family?”

“They’re with your grandfather.”

“How is he?” His voice was gruff, those thick dark lashes failing to conceal the concern in his eyes. “Any change?”

“He looks frail. I hope the doctors know what they’re doing.”

“It’s a good hospital. And how are you?” He caught her chin in his fingers and turned her face to him. “You look like hell.”

“Is that your medical opinion?”

“It’s the opinion of a friend. If you’re asking me as a doctor I’ll have to bill you—” his hand dropped and he tilted his head as he calculated “—let’s say, six hundred dollars. You’re welcome.”

Her heart rate slowly returned to normal. “You trained all those years to tell people they look like hell?”

“It’s a vocation.” He was smiling, too, and that smile made her heart kick hard against her ribs.

“And there I was congratulating myself on looking good in a crisis.” She’d forgotten how easy it was to relax with him. He was easy to talk to and charming. And dangerously attractive.

“I have to go. I need to see Grams.”

“She won’t leave his side and she’s exhausted. She thinks you’re going to be able to perform a miracle.”

“I’ll go to her right now.” His hard features softened fractionally as he spoke of his grandmother. “You’re driving back to Snow Crystal?”

“I just wanted to see him for a few minutes, keep Kayla company and bring food.”

“You still haven’t told me how you are.” Sean’s gaze didn’t shift from her face. “You’re very close to Gramps.”

How was she?

The person she loved most in the world was in the hospital and the Boathouse still wasn’t finished and wasn’t going to open on time.

There would be no opening party. She’d let Jackson down.

She’d had bad days before, but this had been the king of bad days.

But Sean didn’t need to hear that. Their relationship didn’t involve cozy confidences.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “It’s different for me. I am not family. Although I’d also like you to perform a miracle if you have time.”

“I think my grandfather would be the first to dispute that you’re not family.”

“Walter would dispute anything. You know how he loves to argue. He is my perfect man. I love him so much.”

“Now you’ve broken my heart.”

She knew he was joking. Sean was too busy with his career to be interested in a relationship, and that suited her just fine.

“I will see you soon.”

“Are you safe to drive home?” He caught her wrist and pulled her back to him and just for a moment, standing toe-to-toe with him, she forgot the people around her.

“Of course.” She was torn between being touched that he’d noticed how badly affected she was and appalled that she was so easy to read. Why couldn’t she be cool and enigmatic like Kayla? “It has been a long day, that’s all.”

He gave her a long, searching look and then let go of her wrist. “Drive carefully.”

As she walked to the car, she congratulated herself on how well she’d handled that encounter. No one watching would have guessed that they’d once generated enough heat to melt a frozen ice cap.

They had their feelings under control.

There was nothing about Sean O’Neil that threatened her life here.

When it came to love, she was invulnerable.

Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Morgan

ISBN-13: 9781460341636

Maybe This Christmas

Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Morgan

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