Page 36 of Millionaire Under the Mistletoe

Putting her elbows on the table, she dropped her face into the cup of her hands, feeling utterly wretched.

The touch of a finger under her chin caused her to lift her head. It was only the pad of his index finger yet she was aware of his touch through her whole body.

When she met his eyes, she could read little there. But then he was hardly the kind of man a woman could read like a glossy gossip rag. And that enigmatic quality was part of what drew her to him again and again even though she knew it was downright self-destructive.

“Look, I really do need your help.”

“What help?” she asked with more than a little suspicion. After all, he was an Ironstone.

“Our family always spends Christmas at Fairwinds.”

At the height of her hatred for Callum, she’d pored over Country Life images of Fairwinds, the Ironstones’ country retreat set on Lake Windermere’s bank in the Lake District. A long tree-lined lane cutting through a grassy park, a forecourt edged with neatly clipped box hedging, and a flight of stone stairs leading up to the imposing house with its mullioned windows and a steep jagged roofline. The photos had oozed old wealth and gracious living.

And she’d raged against how unfair life was.

Miranda shook herself free of the memory. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’d like you to spend Christmas with us,” he said, “as my partner for the weekend.”

Miranda sucked in a breath.

“It’s my mother’s birthday,” he continued, “the day after Christmas. We’re planning to throw her a surprise birthday party—and Gordon and Petra have already been invited.”

Callum didn’t need to add that he’d originally planned to take Petra along to his mother’s birthday as his fiancée. That his break-up with the blonde had caused a horrible complication. It was written all over his discomfited face. And that knowledge caused an unexpected wash of bittersweet sensation to engulf Miranda.

“You’re asking me to come along and protect you?”

Heavens, men could be so obtuse.

“Something like that.” The barely imperceptible tension that had been coiled within him eased a little, and his eyes smiled into hers. “You could take over working the kitchen on the weekend. I’d make it worth your while.”

Miranda itched to slap him.

“My mother always goes to a great deal of trouble over the festive season—works herself half to death, which makes us all feel guilty. This year she turns sixty.” His expression held a tenderness she’d never seen. “We want to spoil her rotten. We’d planned to get some help with the Christmas preparations, but we’ve all been involved with the merger and no one’s gotten around to organizing it. Neglectful sons, aren’t we?”

There was something inherently sweet about the thought of four grown men—five if you counted his father—coming up with such an idea. It made her turn to marshmallow.

“We’d even pay you—top rates, given that it will be over the Christmas weekend.”

For a moment she thought of her family. She’d never spent Christmas away from them. But how could she possibly resist? The commission Callum was dangling in front of her would enable her to put something toward the deposit Adrian wanted for the pre-owned BMW he’d already agreed to buy from a friend before the expense of the accident—and maybe even buy her mother the new microwave she desperately wanted. And she had to admit to a yearning to see the home in the country that he’d spoken of with such affection.

The only thing that concerned her about his request was Petra. How did the other woman feel about Callum? Miranda suspected Petra would be wounded to be faced with her supposed successor. It made her feel uncomfortable.

Callum must have seen her hesitation because he asked, “Will you come?”, giving her a charmingly lopsided smile. “Will you make my mother’s life, my life—all our lives—so much easier?”

Faced with his love for his mother, how could she refuse? He cared for his mother, loved her. That was beyond doubt. She was discovering a side of Callum she’d never seen before.

Or had she?

Even though he barely knew Flo, he’d taken care of her since her husband’s death. More than Miranda had ever realized. He’d misjudged her father with tragic results…but he hadn’t walked away and abandoned them. Anonymously he’d tried to make amends in the best way he could—by making sure she and her brother received a top-class education, and by looking after the widow of the man he’d wronged.

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