Christmas With Her Ex (11 page)

She picked it up, curled her lip and tossed it in the tiny waste receptacle. She hoped he’d had the devil’s own time finding it.

Her own little bed had been packed up and the seat had been returned to the daytime configuration. She decided the least she could do was enjoy the rest of her trip. She needed to remember that was why she was here.

Breakfast arrived and Wolfgang placed the flower-decorated tray on her tiny table in front of the window.

The train still sat in the Paris station awaiting clearance. Above her head cars and pedestrians streamed past in the peak-hour traffic, and the world went on turning while she waited in solitary splendour in her compartment.

She glanced down at the food. Fruit salad, pastries and rolls, wonderful jams to choose from, deliciously evil curled balls of French butter, and freshly squeezed juice. Far too much for one person—especially one who didn’t appreciate them. She resisted the urge to push it all away crossly as she thought about Connor and her inability to understand him.

She picked at the food as she watched the passers-by scurry along the streets of Paris from her stationary train carriage, watched the buses fly over the overpass,
and thought that soon she would be one of those hurrying off to work herself.

When she was back in the real world. The world she’d worked so hard to create for herself.

But that was for later.
After Christmas.

It was Christmas Eve, she reminded herself, and she would be in London later today, across the world from her home, and booked in at the Ritz for Christmas morning before she left for the airport. It had all seemed so exciting when she’d looked at her itinerary before she’d left.

At the moment it looked a little flat and she chided herself for being pathetic. She needed to work on that.

C
ONNOR SAT IN
the large double cabin facing his grandmother, his head in a medical journal as he tried to catch up on the latest breakthroughs in fertility. There were two articles with his name to them in the current issue and he needed to check that they had been presented correctly.

But his mind was elsewhere. Not with the Wilsons, because that had been a false alarm, though he suspected labour could be drawing closer for them, but hopefully not until after he and his grandmother arrived in London. Hopefully, also, when his brain was less scattered.

His short opportunity for sleep and the lack of rest it had provided didn’t help.

Partly because of the recurring dream, the one he hadn’t had for several years now. It was always the same, the horror of light dying from eyes fixed on his, and he’d woken before dawn, heart pounding and in a lather of sweat, and had known fear like he hadn’t for years.

Desperately disappointed at its return, because he’d hoped the nightmare had finally been banished, this
time instead of his mother’s face the woman’s face had been in shadow—and yet he’d known it was Kelsie, even though he hadn’t been able to see her features.

God, he hated the power of dreams that could strike terror into his psyche when he was at his weakest. No control to be had there.

One of the reasons he’d never seriously contemplated even a sensible marriage, or stayed the night at any of his women friends’ homes, was his horror of anyone finding out about this little weakness. He doubted anyone knew he suffered those dreams except his grandmother, who had caught him at a weak moment years ago when he’d been staying over and she’d heard him cry out. That moment still made him cringe.

This morning the nightmare had receded to an eerily distant threat, so much so that it still clouded his thoughts, which were already in disarray with his angst about Kelsie. Why hadn’t she answered the door when he’d gone back? Had she been soundly asleep—or deliberately avoiding him?

He hadn’t tried again when he’d been to see Anna and Josef early that morning in case she was still sleeping. At least that visit had been successful and both seemed unfazed by the baby’s unusual arrival. Good to see someone was happy.

He’d written a referral to a medical colleague in one of the maternity hospitals in Paris for a follow-up visit.

But still the dilemma of Kelsie lingered. His eyes stared unfocused on the page.

Ah, Kelsie. The memories of that morning were still very vivid in his mind. Her glorious body, her ability to
tilt his world and spin it until he didn’t know which way was up, the woman who could explore deeply sheltered parts of him that nobody else had access to. He hated that. Was terrified of it. Loved it.

So much so that he wondered if that was where the dream had come from.

He’d have to try and talk to her again. Try to understand what she was thinking. He’d always wished she’d let him into her thoughts more. He’d ruined the mood disastrously by talking about the morning-after pill. Maybe the idea of repercussions had been just as terrifying for her as it had been for him but second-guessing her was difficult.

He’d been unable to settle ever since he’d returned to meet his grandmother for breakfast.

‘You’re very quiet.’ Winsome sounded bored and he put his journal down. Hadn’t been reading the thing anyway.

Poor Gran. He was not good company this morning because all he could think about was the impact he was already feeling after the time with Kelsie. He suspected she was about to fly back to Australia and out of his life once again.

‘Sorry. What would you like to talk about?’

‘You won’t like what I want to talk about.’

He smiled. She was probably right. ‘Thankfully it’s not your pseudo-birthday any more now it’s Christmas Eve. So you have to spare me.’

She pouted and he grinned. ‘Don’t try your wiles on me. You’re not talking to Max now, Gran.’

She smiled at that. ‘He is a darling. Are you sure you don’t mind?’

‘Of course I don’t. He seems a good fellow. But that’s none of my business.’ And she was safely diverted to another topic for the next fifteen minutes, and Connor hoped she’d take the staying-out-of-each-other’s-business hint on board.

He’d got over the shock of his eighty-year-old grandmother finding companionable love and truly appreciated the benefits to her not living alone as she grew older. He had the feeling the two elderly lovebirds wouldn’t waste much time sorting out their future arrangements.

Lucky them.

Shame he didn’t believe the same could happen to him but with that thought came his resolution to find Kelsie and try to understand where they could possibly go with this—if, indeed, there was anywhere to go.

Kelsie was sick of her own company but trapped in the dilemma of not running into Connor somewhere on the train if she ventured out of her cabin. The last thing she wanted was to look like she was chasing him.

When Wolfgang came to remove her tray she pounced on him and, despite the risk of looking needy, she encouraged his continued presence.

‘So what’s on the agenda for today, Wolfgang?’

He bowed. ‘A delicious brunch will be served in the dining car, madam, at eleven.’

Her stomach groaned. More food. ‘In case I was
starving to death by now.’ She nodded and Wolfgang looked slightly confused.

‘I’m sorry. Not enough sleep for me.’ He nodded and looked slightly guilty again so she hurried on. ‘And what time do we arrive in Calais?’

‘Around one o’clock in Calais. The Ville coaches will transfer you to the shuttle terminal at Coquelles. Then through the tunnel to Folkestone where, after a short wait, you will join the Pullman train for the journey to London.’ He smiled at her. ‘There will be a very elegant afternoon tea on that train.’

She grinned back. ‘Of course there will. I will be as big as a house by the time I get off at Victoria. So we lose you at Calais?’

He bowed. ‘Our hostesses will accompany each VIP coach and hand you on to the new Pullman Stewards.’

She’d miss him. Had enjoyed his blue-suited attentiveness and his staid good humour. ‘Thank you for explaining that. I guess I thought we caught this train all through the tunnel to London.’

Horrified that ‘his’ train would go across the Channel, he exclaimed, ‘No! No! It is the Pullman train you will transfer to for the final leg.’

There was something sad in that. She liked her blue wagon lit. ‘I understand. So when we all leave you will go home for Christmas?’

He smiled. ‘Yes. We all go home. It is the last trip of the year. Normally our timetable finishes much earlier but this trip had been rescheduled so it became a special journey.’

Lucky her. ‘I feel very fortunate. So you’re on holidays now?’

He nodded and she wondered vaguely how his hat stayed on with all his nodding and bowing.

Oblivious to her curiosity, he went on, ‘All except those who have other employment. VSOE have many hotels and we can move between them if we wish.’

‘I hope your Christmas is delightful, Wolfgang, though I’m sure I’ll see you before I go. You do a fabulous job of looking after us.’

He bowed, hat still amazingly glued on. ‘Thank you.’ He gestured towards the front of the train. ‘The bar car is open if you wish to change scenery.’

‘Sounds good, but I think I’ll try and get to the boutique again to buy something to remind me of my journey. I didn’t make it yesterday.’ And she doubted Connor would be hanging out in there again today just in case she turned up.

Wolfgang went on his way and Kelsie dug out her purse for a walk through the train. The bar car was filling up and she wondered if she’d manage to find a seat when she came back through again. It was still early and she wondered where Winsome was or if she was still asleep.

The boutique was the last carriage before the engine. Apart from Max, it was deserted.

‘Miss Summers. Welcome.’ So he remembered her when she wasn’t dressed in her pyjamas. She smiled and could picture how unobtrusively helpful he’d been. He didn’t look as though he’d been up all night. Still immaculate, distinguished, his Italian accent rolled velvety
and vibrantly and his chocolate-brown eyes were warm with welcome.

‘Max, isn’t it? Dr Black said you’d seen a lot in the last twenty years on the Orient Express. You were very good last night.’

He bowed. No hat to keep on. ‘It is you who were excellent. But I enjoy people and the drama of the journey.’

She thought a breech birth on a train did justify the description. ‘Well, we certainly had drama last night. That’s for sure.’

Max nodded. ‘I believe that is our first baby born on board.’

Kelsie laughed, picturing the scene. ‘Josef looked so cute afterwards when he was dressed in the little conductor suit.’ She looked at the teddy bears, all dressed as Josef had been, and then at the more exotic gifts like cuff links, VSOE diamond bracelets and gorgeous pearl drop sets. ‘I bet you’ve seen some romance here as well.’

She actually thought he blushed. She wasn’t sure because he went on in his beautiful accent, as if nothing was a problem, ‘This is the train of love. People come time and again. Anniversaries. Weddings.’ He gazed into pleasant past. ‘I have seen men propose on bended knee in the crowded dining car and then buy expensive and beautiful jewellery from my boutique.’ He shrugged with a smile. ‘All of this makes me happy.’

Kelsie decided Max was a bit of a honey as well as a romantic as she tried to decide on the perfect memento of her trip.

Footsteps sounded at the door and whoever it was must have been a favourite face because Max’s eyes
softened and his smile would have lit up the room. Kelsie turned to see Winsome smiling back at him and then the older lady seemed to tear her eyes away to beam at Kelsie.

‘Hello, my dear. I thought you might be here. Max’s little boutique is the best part of the journey.’

Kelsie wondered at the unmistakably flirtatious note in her voice, and wondered if Connor knew his gran had a thing for Max.

Another footfall and a deep voice. It seemed he did. ‘Behave yourself, Gran. You’re embarrassing Max.’ When Connor entered, the relaxed and festive vibe for Kelsie seemed to be swallowed by the awareness of his powerful presence. And the way his eyes immediately searched for hers.

Max and Winsome didn’t seem to notice anything, thank goodness, Kelsie thought as she mentally wrapped herself in a suit of armour to stave off the weakness she could feel creeping around her knees.

‘Your beautiful grandmother only ever gives me pleasure,’ Max said heroically to the man lounging at the door. Kelsie had to smile at Winsome, who fanned herself theatrically.

Maybe it was time to change the subject. And prove she was no wilting flower just because Connor had skulked away from her bed. ‘Max is going to help me decide,’ she said to the room in general. ‘I’m stuck. So what should I have as a memento for my trip?’

Winsome winked at the manager again. ‘Max is very good at that.’

Max bestowed a shake of his head on her but the affection
between the two was obvious. So Max had a thing for Winsome as well, Kelsie decided with an internal smile. Well, good on them. Nice if it all worked out for someone.

Max returned his attention to Kelsie. ‘Perhaps you could point out those things that appeal to you?’ The wave of his hand included the whole display. ‘Include those that are outside your price range just for the fun of it.’

She looked around. Carefully avoided Connor at the door. ‘I can’t say one of everything because that would be too greedy.’

The crystalware caught her eye as it reflected the light in myriad colours. It would remind her of dinner with Connor, and she would dearly love a set of each of those. ‘The engraved crystal glasses. I love them. And the decanter is gorgeous. At least one of the beautiful snuff boxes and of course any of the jewellery, it’s all divine.’

She stepped closer to the glass cabinet that held the diamonds and gold. ‘I’m particularly fond of the charm bracelet with the tiny train and conductor’s hat, and the diamond earrings with matching pendant.’ She moved along the cabinet. ‘And I should buy one of these beautiful VSOE velvet jewellery rolls to keep it all in.’

She stopped and blushed. ‘Lost it for a moment in the daydream.’ Shook her head. ‘But enough dreaming. I think I would like a silver guard’s whistle and an Agatha Christie book. Thank you, Max.’

‘Excellent choice,’ he said, as he carefully removed the gold-edged book from the pile.

‘Only one of a thousand printed in this edition.’ He was too much a gentleman to look disappointed she hadn’t spent a fortune. ‘And the whistle is very popular.’ He wrapped them swiftly and elaborately, his vast experience obvious. Then placed her purchases in a little gold VSOE carry-bag, along with a catalogue. ‘In case you see something you would like to order online.’

‘You are very good at this. Aren’t you?’
He nodded complacently.

She could feel Connor observing it all from the door, though he didn’t say anything. Couldn’t stop herself babbling to fill the awkward pause, though she was probably the only one who felt the awkwardness of the moment. ‘So you must be going home for Christmas, too, after we disembark?’

‘Actually, I’m not.’ He glanced at Winsome. ‘I have been invited for Christmas in London. And yourself?’

Kelsie wondered if Connor knew that but he made no demur. What a delightful intrigue. Perhaps more than just a flirtation?

Then she realised Max was waiting for her answer. ‘I’m having Christmas morning at the Ritz and then flying back to Australia later tomorrow. I discovered it’s incredibly cheap to fly home on Christmas Day.’

Winsome looked horrified. ‘Oh, no. You can’t go on Christmas night.’

Kelsie smiled gently at the kindness she could see in Winsome’s eyes. ‘Of course I can. I’ve worked every Christmas the last few years. It’s never really been a big thing for me. This year will be a treat and I get to sit back. Then I’m working every day for a week from
New Year’s Eve.’ She smiled at Max. ‘Hoping to catch lots of babies who very kindly waited for me until after Christmas.’