Page 34 of Craving Her Christmas Boss

Ugh. Why wouldn’t he go away? She had hardly seen him for days, and now he was standing like a statue, listening in on the one conversation that was mortifying.

‘Oh, Shona—thank you, but no. I couldn’t possibly impose.’

‘No imposition. We always have too much food anyway.’

‘Yes,’ Imogen replied quickly, ‘doesn’t everyone? But really I’m looking forward to having my first Christmas away, not going with such a traditional day.’

Liar, liar—her pants should be hot ashes already. She loved tradition.

‘Well, if you change your mind…’

‘Thank you.’

It really was very sweet. But once again she wanted the ground to open up and snatch her away in one big bite. Please let this conversation be over. She chanced another glance at him. He was still looking at her, leaning against the door jam, papers in hand, legs too long and chest too strong for her not to start panting.

She twisted her mouth—almost smiling, but not quite able to. She wanted to say she was sorry. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted him to tease her again.

Instead he went back to his office. But he didn’t shut the door.

As usual, after her official workday had ended, Imogen stayed on in the Christmas shop. ‘O Holy Night’ was playing again. She focused on the wrap and the ribbon, and helping to make someone else’s season that little bit special. Five customers into it, she saw him watching from where he stood by the forest of brightly lit trees in the corner. Jacketless, arms folded across his chest, showing off his wonderfully broad shoulders. Their eyes met and held—his as blue as ever.

Her heart that faster and all her fingers suddenly seemed to have hard plaster casts on them. They wouldn’t work properly. She tied a bow for the third time and looked down the queue at all the people waiting. Should she excuse herself after this customer? Ryan looked as if he might want to talk. She wanted to talk to him—to try again. Slower perhaps this time. She glanced at him again, felt the unstoppable upsurge of emotion—want and need and other things too scary to name. Maybe not so slow. Nerves and indecision and insecurity gave her hot and cold sweats.

But her current customer had for presents to be wrapped. And when she’d finally done the last Ryan had gone.

Later she went up to the office to pick up her quote—more than hopeful that he’d be there. But the lights were out and it was empty.

She walked home feeling more lonely than she’d ever been in all the eight months she’d lived in Edinburgh. Until he’d arrived she had been fine—hadn’t she? She’d put everything into her work and study, forged a friendship with Shona, and been happy to settle her safe, quiet life.

Only now she wasn’t happy. Not at all. Ryan Taylor had made her want all kinds of things—things that she couldn’t believe he could want to give her—things like love and commitment. There was only one thing to do. She pulled out her phone and dialled.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Mum, it’s me.’ Even just hearing her mother’s voice gave her a lift.

‘Imogen, love, how are you? It’sImogen!’

Imogen held the phone from her ear as her mother let her father and the rest of the neighbourhood know she’d rung. ‘I’m fine, Mum—how are you?’

‘Good, love, good.’

Imogen knew she’d left it too long between phone calls. Had blamed it on being busy, with working full-time and studying on top. In reality she’d isolated herself from her family and friends. She’d been so humiliated, so hurt. But had her own silly pride made her hurt more?

‘Have you got everything organised?’ She was eager to bond over the day-to-day detail.

‘Well, I can hardly shut the fridge, as usual—your father ordered a ham the size of Australia.’

Imogen smiled at the familiar mental image. ‘Were you up all night making the pav?’

‘Of course.’ Her mother sighed. ‘We have far too much food.’

‘You’ll burn it off playing cricket.’

‘I suppose. Derek’s mown a pitch in the park again. Don’t know what the council will say.’

Imogen would have laughed then—if it hadn’t been for the wistful ache in her body. ‘They won’t mind. It’s Christmas.’ Homesickness washed over her. Her family had fun traditions.

‘It’s going to be a good day. What about you, love? You got good plans?’

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