Page 7 of Ice Cold Christmas
Every eye in the room was immediately on her.
Shock came first.
Some jaws dropped.
Shock, horror and…
Glass shattered.
Her gaze followed the sound. She saw that the big man to the right—the man who’d been standing near the elaborately decorated Christmas tree—had just broken the wine glass he held. As their gazes collided, she could have sworn an electric shock whipped through her blood.
Victor Alexander. She knew him by sight, thanks to her careful research. The man who’d worked as Sebastian Mage’s protégé. The man who had taken over the company. The man who?—
Was rushing toward her. Staring at her with glittering eyes. With a handsome face that seemed to have been carved from granite. Shock. Rage. Desire? So many emotions flashed in his eyes and on his face as he reached out to her with his big hands.
And she realized…“You have blood on your hands.”
His dark eyes widened.
Then he looked at his hands. Or, rather, at his right hand. The one that had held the wine glass before it shattered.
She locked her knees. The urge to turn and flee was nearly overwhelming. But…
“Melody!” Sebastian Mage rose to his feet. Almost fell but caught himself. “Melody…my God!” He gaped at her, as if she had to be a ghost.
Fair enough, considering that was exactly what she was.
Melody Mage smiled at her father. Then she let that smile sweep to the others in the room. “Hello, everyone. Guess who’s back?”
Silence greeted her.
“The Ghost of Christmas Past,” she said into that silence. And this ghost is here to wreck your world.
Ho. Ho. Ho.
Chapter Two
A dramatic entrance had seemed like the best approach. But, wow, it sure had been hard to pull off.
Four hours later, Melody paced the confines of the guest room that she’d been given at the Mage Mansion. Yes, that was how she thought of the place. Mage Mansion. Not home, because it wasn’t home to her. The whole place felt intimidating. Scary.
Everything about the room she’d been given was fancy—and cold. Paintings on the wall that held no soul. A million pillows artfully arranged on a big, white bed. A settee. White, wood furniture. Kinda looked like it had all come straight from some decorating website.
A completely alien environment.
But a place that was supposed to be part of her world.
“Where were you?”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“Why didn’t you text?”
“You vanished!”
“How could you be so heartless? You abandoned your family! You abandoned everyone who loved you!”
She’d expected all of the questions. And even the anger. The accusations. After all, there had to be confusion and rage from her family.
