SNOWED IN WITH THE BILLIONAIRE (8 page)

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Authors: CAROLINE ANDERSON

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BOOK: SNOWED IN WITH THE BILLIONAIRE
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‘Here, have one of these before your son finishes them all, and let’s go and tackle this tree.’

CHAPTER FIVE

E
ASIER
SAID
THAN DONE
.

It took the best part of an hour to wrestle the tree into the
room and get it in the right position, and by the end of it he was hot, cross
and had a nice bruise on his finger from pinching it in the clamp.

‘Look on the bright side,’ Georgie said, standing back to study
it critically. ‘At least it’s a nice soft fir and not a prickly old spruce. And
it fitted under the beam.’

He stuck his head out from underneath it and gave her a look.
‘Just don’t tell me to turn it round again,’ he growled, and she smiled sweetly
and widened her eyes.

‘As if. It looks good. It’s even vertical. That’s a miracle in
itself. So, where are the decorations?’

He worked his way out from under the tree and stood up,
brushing bits of vegetation off his cashmere sweater. Probably not the best
choice of garment for the task in hand, but with Georgia in the house he didn’t
seem to be able to think clearly. ‘In my study. Come and have a look.’

She followed him to the room that they’d christened the music
room, under her bedroom. There was a desk in there positioned to take advantage
of the views over the garden, and apart from the laptop on the desk, there was
nothing to give away that it was an office. She wondered how much work he did
here, or was planning to, or if it was just a weekend cottage.

Some cottage, she thought drily.

There was a stack of boxes beside the desk, and he pulled one
of the boxes off the pile and opened it on the desk. ‘I’m not convinced they’re
child-friendly.’

Probably not, she thought, eyeing the expensive packaging. The
decorations were all immaculately boxed, individually wrapped in tissue paper
and made of glass. Beautiful though they were, she wasn’t in a hurry to put them
in reach of Josh.

‘Not good?’ he asked, and she shrugged.

‘They’re lovely. Beautiful, but they aren’t really safe within
his reach. He’s a bit small to understand about cutting his fingers off.’

Sebastian winced. ‘We could put them higher up, out of his
reach.’

‘We could. And we could decorate the lower part with other
things. And they aren’t all glass. Look, these ones are traditional pâpier
maché, it says. They’ll be all right, and I can make gingerbread stars and
trees, and decorate them with icing—have you got icing sugar and
colourings?’

He raised his hands palm-up and pulled a face. ‘How would I
know?’

‘You put the stuff away in your kitchen?’

He shook his head. ‘My mother put a lot of the food away. She
was here when it arrived. I was still in London.’

‘Ah. Well, in that case we’ll have to go and look or be
imaginative. There are fir trees in the grounds. We can find fir cones and
berries and things—’

‘May I remind you that everything in the garden is submerged
under a foot of snow?’ he said drily, and she smiled.

‘I’m sure you’ll manage. Coloured paper? Glue? Sticky
tape?’

He had a horrible feeling the tree was going to end up looking
like a refugee from a craft programme on the television, but then Josh crawled
through the kneehole of the desk pushing his stapler along the floor and making
‘vroom vroom’ noises, and he suddenly didn’t care what the tree looked like. He
just wanted Josh to be safe, and happy, and together they could have fun making
stuff for the tree.

Well, Josh could. He wasn’t sure he’d be so thrilled by it, but
hey. Josh was just a kid, and Sebastian wasn’t going to put his own feelings
before the child’s. No way.

‘Let’s put this lot on the top half,’ he suggested, ‘and I’ll
go and see what I can find in the garden while you make the biscuits. I’m sure
I’ve got ribbon and sticky tape and coloured wrapping paper left from the
presents.’

She smiled, her whole face softening. ‘Thanks. That would be
great. OK, Josh, let’s go and make the tree pretty, shall we?’

‘Lights first,’ Sebastian said, picking up the box.

‘Do they flash?’

‘No they don’t,’ he said, appalled. ‘Nor are they blue.
Christmas tree lights should be white, like stars.’

‘Stars twinkle,’ she pointed out, and started singing ‘Twinkle,
twinkle, little star’, but he’d had enough. Laughing in exasperation, he turned
her shoulders, gave her a little push towards the door and followed her back to
the sitting room, trying really, really hard not to breathe in the scent of her
perfume.

* * *

‘Your mother rang.’

He paused in the act of tugging off his boots and met her eyes.
‘Ah. I sent her a text earlier saying the lane was impassable and Christmas
wasn’t going to happen tomorrow. What did you say to her?’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Nothing. I’m not that stupid. She
rang the house first, and I heard the answerphone cut in, and then she rang your
mobile. It came up on the screen.’

‘Right. OK. I’ll go and call her.’

‘So did you find fir cones and berries?’

‘Fir cones. Not berries. The birds were all over them, and I
thought their need was greater, but I’ve got some greenery. I’ve left it all out
here to drip for a bit. Something smells good.’

‘That’s the biscuits.’

‘Mmm. They probably need testing. Did you make spares?’ he
asked hopefully.

She shook her head, then relented and smiled at him when he
pulled a disappointed face. ‘I’m sure there’ll be breakages.’

He felt his mouth twitch. ‘I’m sure it can be arranged even if
there aren’t. Stick the kettle on, I’m starving and I could do with a drink.
I’ll go and call my mother and then we can have lunch.’

He went into the study and picked up the phone, listened to the
message and rang her. ‘So how is it? Are you cut off, too?’

‘Yes, and your brothers aren’t here, either. They were coming
up last night but of course they watched the news and thought better of it.
They’re spending Christmas together, though, so they’ll be fine.’

‘So you’ll be alone?’

‘Well, we hope not. We were still hoping you might be able to
get out with your Range Rover to collect us.’

‘No chance. It’s head high in the lane and I don’t see it
thawing with the weather so cold and clear. We’re going to have to postpone
Christmas for days, I’m afraid. It could be ages before they get through here
with a snow plough.’

‘Oh, darling, I’m so sorry, how disappointing. And I can’t bear
to think of you spending your first Christmas there on your own.’

Except, of course, he wouldn’t be, but there was no way he was
telling her that. ‘I’m more worried for you,’ he said, hastily moving the
subject on. ‘I don’t know what you’re going to eat, I’ve got all the food here
at this end.’

‘Well, don’t try and keep it. Just have it and enjoy it and
we’ll worry about restocking later. At least it’s only us, and I’m sure I’ve got
things in the freezer. We’ll be fine, but be careful with all that food at yours
and freeze anything you can’t use in time. You don’t want to get food poisoning
eating it past its use-by date—’

‘Mum,’ he said warningly, and she sighed.

‘Sorry, but you can’t stop me worrying about you. Big as you
are, you’re still my son.’

If only that was true, he thought with a pang, but he didn’t go
there because he knew that in every way that mattered, he was. Well, his heart
knew that, and now, after all these years, he was finally able to accept it. His
head, though—that still wanted answers—

He heard a noise and realised that Josh had followed him into
the study and was crawling around on the floor with the stapler vrooming again,
and he swivelled the chair round and watched him out of the corner of his eye
while he listened to his mother making alternative plans and telling him how
they were going to get together with the neighbours and it would all be fine,
and they’d see him soon.

And then Josh stood up under the desk and banged his head, and
started to cry.

‘Hang on.’ He dropped the phone and scooped Josh up into his
arms, cross with himself for not anticipating it so that now Josh was hurt, and
cross with Georgia for letting him out of her sight so that it could happen in
the first place.

And he was hurt. Real tears were welling in his eyes, and
without thinking Sebastian sat back in his chair, cuddled him close and kissed
his head better, murmuring reassurance. Josh snuggled into him, sniffing a
little, and from the phone on the desk he could hear his mother’s tinny voice
saying, ‘Sebastian? Sebastian, whose child is that?’

Why hadn’t he just hung up? But he hadn’t, and there was no way
round this. He picked up the receiver with a sigh and prepared himself for an
earbashing.

‘It’s Georgia Becket’s little boy—’

‘Georgie’s? I didn’t know you were seeing her! How long’s this
been going on?’

‘It’s not. It isn’t,’ he told her hastily. ‘She was on her way
home for Christmas yesterday afternoon and the other road was blocked so she
tried the short cut and got stuck outside the gates. And it was almost dark, so
the obvious thing to do was let them stay. I was going to take her home today,
but the weather rather messed that up so we’re just making the best of it,
really.’

Shut up! Too much information. Stop
talking!

But then of course his mother started again.

‘Oh, Sebastian! Well, thank goodness you were there! Who knows
what would have happened if you hadn’t been—it doesn’t bear thinking about, her
and her little boy—’

‘Well, I was here, so it’s fine, and it’s only till the snow
clears so don’t get excited.’

‘I’m not excited. I’m just concerned for her. How is she? That
poor girl’s been through so much—’

‘She’s fine,’ he said shortly, and then added, ‘She’s making
gingerbread decorations for the tree at the moment.’

Why? Why had he told her that?
It
sounded so cosy and domesticated and just plain happy families, and his mother
latched onto it like a terrier.

‘Oh, how lovely! She always was a clever girl. She was so good
for you—I never did understand why you let her go, but you were behaving so
oddly then, I expect you just drove her away. I don’t suppose you ever talked to
her, explained anything?’

He said nothing. He didn’t need to. His mother was on a
roll.

‘No, of course you didn’t. You weren’t talking to anyone at
that time, least of all us.’ She sighed. ‘I wish we’d told you sooner. We should
have done.’

‘You should.’

His voice was harsh, and he heard her suck in her breath.
‘Well, whatever, you be nice to her. Don’t you dare hurt her again, Sebastian,
she doesn’t deserve it. And—try talking to her. Tell her what was going on then,
how you were feeling about the adoption and everything. How you still feel. I’m
sure she’ll understand. She’s a lovely girl and it would be wonderful if you got
back together. I’d love to see you happy, and that poor little boy of
hers...’

He swallowed hard, pressing his lips briefly to Josh’s dark,
glossy hair. ‘Well, you can put all that out of your head. It’s over. It was
over years ago, and it’s just not going to happen. Look, I’ll give you a call
when I know more, but in the meantime you take care and don’t let Dad overdo it
shovelling snow. I know what he’s like about clearing the drive.’

‘I’ll pass it on, but I can’t guarantee he’ll listen. And I’m
sorry we aren’t going to be with you, but I’m really glad Georgie is. And her
little boy. You’ll have so much fun together. How old is he?’

‘Two. He’s two—well, two and a bit.’
The
same age I was...

His mother sucked in a breath. ‘Oh, Sebastian! He’s going to
love it! I remember your first Christmas with us—’

‘Mum, I’ve got to go. I’m expecting a call. I’ll ring you
tomorrow.’

He ended the call abruptly and put the phone down, and then
swivelled the chair to find Georgie standing there watching him
thoughtfully.

‘What’s not going to happen?’

‘Us,’ he said shortly, and put Josh back on his feet. ‘What can
I do for you?’

She could think of a million things, none of which he’d want to
hear and all of them disastrous for her emotional security. ‘Nothing. I was
looking for Josh and I heard him crying. What happened?’

‘He stood up under the desk. He’s fine now, aren’t you, little
guy?’

Josh nodded, and she held out her hand to him. ‘Lunch is ready
when you are,’ she told Sebastian. ‘Come on, Josh. Let’s go and have something
to eat.’ And she left him to follow them in his own time.

* * *

Great. His mother must have heard Josh cry and asked who
he was, which would have opened a whole can of worms.

She’d have to apologise for that because it was her fault, of
course, for letting Josh run off like that, but she’d been busy rescuing the
biscuits from the Aga and one minute he was there and the next he was gone.

Interestingly, though, it sounded as if his mother, unlike
hers, wanted them back together. Well, as he’d said, it just wasn’t going to
happen. It was
so
not going to happen! Been there,
done that, and had the scars to prove it.

And so did he, and from the sound of his voice he wasn’t any
more keen than she was. He’d certainly cut his mother off short when she started
asking questions about Josh.

She towed him back to the kitchen and shut the door to keep him
there so he didn’t cause any more havoc, and sat him down at the table. She’d
made cheese and caramelised onion chutney sandwiches, a big pile of them, and
there were little golden brown trees and stars cooling on a wire rack on the
worktop.

There were even a few failures. Sebastian would be pleased. Or
he would have been. Now, with his mother sticking her oar in and putting him on
the defensive, things might not be so jolly. She sucked in a deep breath when
she heard the door open and forced herself to smile.

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