Christmas With Her Ex (7 page)

Lady Geraldine merely tapped the side of her nose. ‘Wait and see where the maître d’ puts us all,’ she murmured. And then she winked at Winsome. ‘Being old doesn’t entirely deprive us of our ability to charm men into doing what we want, does it, Winnie?’

‘Not at all, dear. As you say, age is only an attitude.’

Winsome seemed surprised when Connor didn’t demur at her seating arrangements. She wasn’t the only one surprised. Kelsie hadn’t thought Connor would enjoy being organised by someone other than himself.

‘Absolutely. I’m sure you and Lady Geraldine have a lot of catching up to do. I’m quite fine sitting with Kelsie if that’s what you’ve arranged. As long as Kelsie doesn’t mind.’

Kelsie declined to comment but decided she needed a drink for fortitude.

Connor must have picked up on her thoughts because he disappeared and returned with a glass of champagne. He handed it to Kelsie as if it was his lot to meet her needs, and she decided something was going on here because the vibes were
so-o-o
different from those at lunch and certainly different from when they had parted that afternoon.

And now they’d have to sit together, alone, for a formal dinner.

She took another sip and wondered what the alcohol content in her blood was running at since boarding this darned train and whether it was interfering with her usual caution.

Conversation flowed remarkably easily until the gong went for dinner. The bar car had filled up, men and women flashed their jewels and fabulous clothes, stilted conversations merged into introductions as strangers tried to make conversation as they waited to be allocated their tables.

Kelsie felt the heat in her cheeks as Connor stood attentively beside her. People dodged the champagne buckets and others milled and chatted in the small space as they waited.

Finally the loudspeaker encouraged the patrons to go through to dinner, first in English and then in French, as the waiters checked off names. Kelsie stood with Connor and walked through to the next car and their table.

Connor beat the waiter to her chair and pulled it out for her, helping her to move it back in when she was seated, and she looked down at the table, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He’d always had such beautiful manners. It had been one of the lovely aspects of spending time with Connor away from home. He’d always treated her like a princess.

The table was crowded with crystal glasses—four sizes each and all engraved with the VSOE insignia—three sets of silver cutlery, fine china with the crest again and crested doilies under everything to stop any
hint of slippage from the motion of the train. She marvelled at the thought of the relaying of the tables for the next sitting.

Their waiter arrived, carrying Connor’s champagne bucket, and he skilfully topped their glasses despite the sudden jolts. They both smiled at his dexterity.

Connor broke the silence between them. ‘So my grandmother has been at work again.’ Connor settled back into his chair and smiled. ‘Can you stand another meal with me or would you like me to ask to be moved?’

‘Of course not.’ There wasn’t a lot she could do about it now and it could have been a whole lot worse. She might have had to keep the bar fly under control. Instead, she had a handsome man who had once been her lifeline. ‘I’ll be able to handle it for one more meal. I think breakfast is in bed tomorrow morning so I’m safe.’

‘I’ll look forward to it.’ His mouth curved, smiling and sexy, a deadly combination that encapsulated her in their private joke, and the room seemed suddenly a little too warm again.

‘Even your grandmother couldn’t arrange that,’ she said dryly, and he smiled again. She almost wished he wouldn’t do that. It was a devastating smile and if her shoes hadn’t been so tight her toes might have curled.

He glanced down at the menu and then back at her. ‘So, what are you having?’

She looked down, scanning the options you could purchase before she looked at the meal that was included, and gasped. ‘I think I’d rather buy a coat at Harrods than a serving of Beluga caviar.’

He glanced at the price of the optional entrée and
winced. ‘We could both buy a coat.’ He grinned at the à la carte menu for those too fussy to have what the chef de cuisine suggested. ‘Shall we have the Christmas dinner menu, then?’

She nodded vigorously. ‘Indeed. I’ll have the traditional roast turkey with chestnut stuffing and dessert of a classic plum duff with
crème Anglaise
and brandy butter.’

‘Good choice. I’m not a turbot fan myself.’

She laughed. He was funny. It was easy. They were conversing as if all the tense conversations of the day had been swept away and she could feel the stiffness in her neck begin to subside. The feeling of relief was heady. And he was charming. She might just have to watch that.

‘The fellow at the bar was right, you know.’ His gaze rested on her face.

‘What?’

‘You look very beautiful in that dress. In fact, you’ve looked beautiful all day.’ He wasn’t looking at the dress. He was watching her face and she felt the warmth steal into her cheeks. ‘You look even more beautiful than you did fifteen years ago.’

Now her cheeks burned and she didn’t know where to look. The obvious place was at him. Dark dinner suit, white shirt and bow-tie. Sardonically suave yet with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Thank you. You look pretty hot yourself.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ His face became more serious. ‘So why haven’t you married, Kelsie?’

‘Why haven’t you?’ she countered.

He shook his head. ‘That’s a cop-out and I asked you first. I had the impression you were a brave new you. Don’t be shy. I’m sure it’s not because you haven’t found anyone who exceeded my charms.’

‘Oh, you’re charming, too, but way too old for me. I’m looking for a younger man now. Like our friend at the bar.’

She’d been trying to keep it light, not sure they were quite at ease enough to get down to real truth. That it would take someone pretty darned special to make her give up the independence that she’d fought so hard for.

She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes her mother had made and if she never did get married and have a child at least she wouldn’t walk away from them like her own mother had.

She was starting to feel more emotional than she wanted to. Here was this gorgeous man, flirting with her, and all she could remember was how she’d left him standing alone on a corner. How worried his face had been. It made her feel bad. And sad.

‘So you think I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you?’ His hand reached across the table and he squeezed her fingers, stroked the inside of her wrist, and she shivered. There was that unmistakable frisson of awareness that assured her they still had far too much chemistry happening for her peace of mind.

His hand moved back away from her and instantly she missed the connection. ‘I’m willing to bet I could.’

Her fingers tingled. It wasn’t fair that he could do that with just a touch and she’d always thought the whole vibration in auras between a man and a woman
had been exaggerated. ‘You seem determined to put a personal spin on all my words but you can never go back.’

Her mouth was saying things her body didn’t agree with but it seemed appropriate when she wanted to create a distance he was trying to close. Her imagination wasn’t helping with fantasies of finding out just what would happen if she crawled into Connor Black’s lap and kissed him.

He was watching her face and unfortunately there was nowhere to hide. ‘Today I was thinking about our first kiss.’ His voice dropped and she leaned forward to hear. ‘You were soft, like a kitten.’

She bounced back into an upright position, blushing like a schoolgirl, and it was her turn to hope nobody had heard or could see the pink in her cheeks. ‘And you missed my mouth the first time.’

He smiled lazily. ‘I’m better at it now.’

That made her smile and instantly the rapport was back. ‘You weren’t so bad even then, once I got over the shock.’

Thankfully the meal arrived and it should have been easier but her eyes strayed to his strong white teeth as he put the fork to his lips, that tilt to his wicked mouth and his strong throat.

She tried to work out what was pushing her buttons. He was unmistakably the full package when you put his undivided attention and the close proximity of their bodies together. Plus the memories of their slow awakening as they’d grown to adulthood together all those years ago.

Would things have been different if they’d made love before their wedding day? The room was getting hot again.

Connor watched the play of emotions cross her face. Every now and then he caught glimpses of the young girl from so many years ago. A vulnerability he thought she’d lost that made him want to protect her, but he stamped that down. No way. She didn’t want him to, and had never wanted him to. That was why she’d left him, remember?

But that wasn’t all he saw. He saw the pulse beat at her throat, the subtle lushness of a woman’s body that stirred him like no other woman’s had. He could still feel the silk of her skin when he’d squeezed her hand that had burnt right through his defences so that he’d had to let go. There was no doubt he was playing with fire but hopefully neither of them would get burnt.

He sat back and let the tension ease. They still had eighteen hours to go and he wasn’t rushing into anything.

Selected cheeses, the plum duff with
crème Anglaise
and brandy butter, a sun-kissed dessert wine to be sipped and between them awareness swirled like the gold in the glasses as they smiled over firsts together.

First hand-holding—how nervous she’d been. First kiss—how nervous he’d been.

First fight and whose fault it was—not able to agree on that one.

Old memories. Good memories that had been overlaid by guilt and shame and a lack of communication that now they could only shake their heads at.

Both of them warmed to the shared moments that, despite the years, seemed like yesterday now they’d been allowed to escape.

He glanced away to where a tiny Christmas tree spun in a corner with fibreoptic branches lighting the heads of the people sitting nearby in subtle colours.

He tilted his head towards it. ‘Do you remember?’

She glanced across and he saw the smile in her eyes as she nodded. ‘It was the year before you went away to school. My father had thrown out the old tinsel tree we had and I was heartbroken we weren’t having a tree. So you bought me a tiny little tree like that, with decorations and fibreoptic lights that came on when I plugged it in. I kept it in my room and it made me smile at night.’

‘I was so excited when I saw it but your father hated it.’ He smiled and shook his head. ‘And he hated me.’

She shrugged. ‘He hated everyone. It was a lovely thing to do. If it hadn’t been for you Christmas would have been the same as any other day in the year.’

He thought about it. ‘You made my Christmas special just by being there.’

Kelsie couldn’t believe how light she felt. As if she’d found a dear friend she’d thought she’d lost. And that was what it was. Impulsively she reached across the table and took his hand. ‘I’m so pleased we’ve had tonight.’

He brought his other hand over the top and held her hand on his. ‘So am I.’

Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it
gently, and suddenly she didn’t want to be in this car any more.

He must have seen that. ‘There’s not a lot of places to go but would you like to walk?’

A
WAY FROM PEOPLE?
Should she?

Not that they’d do anything they couldn’t in front of witnesses. Witnesses. She shied away from the word, like a wedding that hadn’t happened, thank goodness she hadn’t said that out loud—but, yes. She’d like to go somewhere quieter. More private.

Connor rose and pulled out her chair, waited for her to precede him in the direction of her cabin, not his, and then followed at her shoulder so she could feel him brush against her as she made her way past tables filled with crystal and silver and satiated patrons.

People she didn’t see. Past his grandmother, and the red-haired lady, and the couple who had danced, and always Connor’s hand hovered below her waist in case she lost balance with the rock of the train. So she was safe from injury but moving forward towards a different sort of delicious possibility.

Her senses seemed more alert. Her skin more sensitive when he brushed against her. Her peripheral vision seemed filled with him and it was a very strange sensation amongst a sea of sensations.

Connor leaned forward and opened the door for her,
and for a crazy moment she wanted to bury her nose in his shirt and have him wrap his arms around her.

She wasn’t even sure he liked her but maybe there would be time for that later.

She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she looked up at him and his hand tightened on her shoulder.

‘Best not to look at me like that when we’re in public,’ he murmured with a wicked hint of warning in his voice.

Her stomach kicked and her face flamed. What were the rules for a first date with someone you’d once loved? Someone you’d thought about on and off over the last fifteen years. Someone you’d once known as well as yourself and who’d always left you deliciously alert. She’d never known him that way—though they’d had a few close shaves—but Connor had always said he’d wait until they were married.

But that had been then and this was now. Now they were both consenting adults with no ties. She was no longer a virgin—and it would be highly unlikely that a gorgeous man like Connor would be one either.

They passed through the bar car and she didn’t see anyone. Just a blur of obstacles to avoid. Was she being too forward?

Would he think she’d turned into a nymphomaniac if she asked him to bed? Because that was what she was thinking, though it could be problematic in a small train with very thin partitions between the cabins.

His hand stayed in the small of her back, hot and possessive and the tension eddied and churned between them and her belly swirled with a mounting ache that
had her squirming as she walked faster than she probably should have towards her cabin.

They came to a deserted corner between carriages and he leaned her against the wall and pinned her there. His face was all angles and intent and a hint of a smile in his eyes as he took his time studying her face.

‘Now. About that first kiss… ’ This time he didn’t miss and Kelsie felt her head bump back against the polished rosewood parquetry as she melted bonelessly against him. His mouth was strong and hot and demanding and she couldn’t have denied him if all the passengers had trooped past them.

His hand was in her hair, absently rubbing where she’d bumped it, murmuring against her lips with a smile in his mouth, and she kissed him back with all the angst of fifteen years of regret and apology and finally pure desire, and became lost.

Then someone did come along, coughed and made a small joke, and they broke apart. Kelsie smiled down at the carpet, avoiding the face of the other passenger, and heard Connor’s relaxed, ‘Good evening.’ How could he be so cool? She not accidentally, though unobtrusively, brushed his thigh with the back of her hand and heard his indrawn breath. Still able to smile and pretend nothing was going on, Connor?

She glanced up at him as the footsteps died away and his eyebrows hiked as he smiled down at her.

‘My, my. Haven’t you grown up?’ He leaned in again and flattened himself into her so that she could feel the length of him pressed solidly against her. He grinned lazily. ‘Has anyone seen Kelsie?’

‘I’m here. And you’ve been practising your kissing.’

‘Fortunately.’ They both smiled as he stepped back, took her hand and led her into the next carriage, and then the next, until they stood outside Kelsie’s door and she opened it.

Kelsie put her fingers to her lips. Inclined her head towards the cabin next door. ‘Sh.’

He leant down until his lips just brushed her ear and she shivered as he whispered, ‘I can do quiet.’

Kelsie decided there was something very intimate about whispering in a darkened compartment on the Orient Express.

Especially when golden chains of her dress had been lifted aside and Connor Black was spreading wonder over her bare skin as they stood pressed together in the darkness of her cabin. It was all a blur of whispers and touches but mostly it was feeling Connor’s mouth against hers.

Every few minutes a bell would ring and lights from a railway crossing would flash lights across their faces, and once she opened her eyes to see him staring at her as he stroked her cheek.

Time passed. They kissed like they could never kiss enough. Whispered about their lives, their dreams, their regrets and their successes. Held each other, Kelsie even shedding a few tears, and they laughed very quietly. Reconnected.

Connor was trapped. He wanted to take Kelsie more than he wanted to breathe but he feared the exposure.
The ripping open of a protective shield he needed to survive.

He couldn’t do it.

Already she’d burrowed under his defences more than he would have believed possible. Though he’d been young, he had truly loved this woman. Would have given her everything. The problem was he was whole now and he didn’t trust her not to hurt him again.

He’d survived once when he’d lost her and he wasn’t so sure he would survive again if she touched his soul in giving herself to him. Making love with Kelsie, the way they were sparking off each other tonight, promised to be no light undertaking.

He didn’t know if he would ever really trust her again. Surely it would be a hundred times worse if they made love and she got off the train in London and walked away.

Yes. It would. He could feel his sanity return.

For a few moments there he’d been ready to burn in hell if he could bury himself in her. But he was damned if he was going to rue the day he met her again.

Connor pulled the gold straps back up her shoulders and kissed her once more.

Kelsie sat back and stared at him. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Everything is perfect. Let’s not spoil it.’

He saw her disappointment. Well, he had dibs on that one from a long time ago, and tonight he was right there with her. But he’d been burnt once by her. Severely, and he didn’t do loss well.

And he wasn’t going to do something he’d regret.
Funny how it had only been that way with Kelsie. Seemed he was better at denying himself than she was, which made him feel slightly better.

But this was the new Kelsie and again she surprised him.

Connor had drawn the line. Again. Heck, she’d thought he’d got over that, she grumbled to herself in the throes of frustration! She sat upright from where they’d ended up entangled on the seat, pushed back her hair and straightened her straps properly. For the first time in her life she’d actually been totally swept away. Scary, scary stuff.

She took a few good breaths and focused. ‘Well, that’s a turn-up for the books. It’s usually me who stops the action. Different, but probably sensible.’ She looked at him with a crooked smile. ‘Thank you. I think.’

‘And I think I’d better go.’

She arched her brows. ‘Before I jump you again?’ He smiled. ‘It is a worry.’

She wondered at the underlying truth beneath his jokey statement as she watched him leave.