Claiming His Christmas Bride

Surely this man, just because Crys had once been married to his younger brother, didn’t begrudge her the happiness she had now found with Sam?

Molly knew that Crys had loved James very much, but she was only twenty-nine now—the same age as Molly herself. Surely Gideon didn’t think Crys should have remained faithful to his brother’s memory for the rest of her life? If he did, then he should never have agreed to be Peter’s godfather.

Gideon turned back to her, blue eyes hard as sapphires. ‘Then let’s hope they stay that way,’ he bit out harshly.

Molly’s frown deepened. ‘Why shouldn’t they?’

‘I think those two have already had their fair share of bad luck where love is concerned.’ David was the one to put this in quietly.

Molly knew exactly what bad luck David was referring to: Crys’s past loss was obvious enough, and Sam hadn’t looked at a woman until Crys after being publicly persecuted by his ex-fiancée twelve years before.

But, after David’s own recent loss, it was insensitive of Molly and Gideon to be carrying out this conversation in front of him at all. Even if the antagonism between the two of them was so intense it could be cut with a knife.

‘You’re right, David,’ Molly soothed, putting an apologetic hand on his arm. ‘Isn’t he, Gideon?’ she prompted hardly.

‘I think so—yes,’ Gideon agreed lightly, but a much stronger emotion burned briefly in the darkness of his gaze as he continued to look down at Molly.

And just what did he mean by that remark? And that look?

This man was too deep for her, too enigmatic; in fact, she could definitely feel a headache coming on!

She drew in a sharp breath as she deliberately turned away from that compelling gaze. ‘If you’ll both excuse me…? I just want to go and spend a few minutes with my parents before they leave,’ she added apologetically, knowing her parents had to go shortly.

‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Gideon Webber assured her abruptly.

If he so wanted to avoid her company, then why had he come over here and joined in this conversation at all? Molly wondered bad-temperedly.

‘See you later.’ David had recovered enough from the reminder of his recent loss to smile at her.

‘Of course,’ Molly said gently, not even sparing Gideon Webber a second glance before walking away to join her parents as they stood together across the room.

Damn the man. Damn. Damn. Damn!

Today’s christening should have been a wonderful family occasion, full of warmth and love, with all of them doting on Peter James. Instead, because of Gideon Webber’s presence, it had become something of a nightmare for Molly. But it was a nightmare she intended putting an end to at the earliest opportunity.

‘You!’ Molly gasped her dismay the following morning as she entered the kitchen to get herself a cup of coffee and found herself confronted by Gideon Webber, obviously doing exactly the same thing.

She had managed to excuse herself from the christening party the day before as soon as her parents had left, her claim of a headache completely genuine by that time.

She had certainly had no idea that Gideon Webber had spent the night here, too.

‘Me,’ he confirmed, his smile taunting her obvious displeasure at finding him here. ‘Coffee?’ He held up the coffee-pot in his hand.

A brandy would have been preferable after the shock she had just received. But that would only confirm for this man that she was some sort of dipsomaniac!

‘Thank you,’ Molly managed to squeak, through a throat that suddenly seemed extremely dry and lips that had gone numb.

What was he still doing here? she wondered wildly.

Unusually for December, the sun was actually shining, and the birds had been singing, too, as Molly made her way lightly down the stairs, filling her with pleasurable anticipation for the day ahead.

Anticipation that had just taken a definite nosedive!

‘Here—drink some of this.’ Gideon pushed a mug of steaming coffee into her unresisting hand. ‘Headache still bad?’ he prompted mockingly.

He was the headache! And, yes, it was bad—a terrible pounding had started behind her eyes and it hadn’t been there seconds ago.

‘I wasn’t sure whether or not you took sugar,’ he drawled as she sat down to take a much-needed swallow of the coffee—and almost choked on it. Not only was it unsweetened, it was also strong enough to strip the enamel from her teeth.

‘It’s fine,’ she managed to gasp, her eyes watering from the resounding slap Gideon had given her on her back. The thin green jumper she wore with denims was no barrier against the force of that hand.

Why hadn’t he just asked her how she liked her coffee? Or would that have been too easy?

Probably, Molly instantly answered herself irritably. It might also have deprived him of the pleasure of hitting her as well as choking her.

Okay, so he had stayed the night, for whatever reason. She accepted that, but that didn’t answer the question: what was he still doing here?

‘Crys and Sam have taken the baby and Merlin for a walk on the moors,’ he supplied economically, before sitting down in the chair opposite hers across the kitchen table.

As she had been rather late coming down it didn’t in the least surprise her that her stepbrother and Crys had already gone out for their usual morning walk with the dog. What she did find unsettling was the fact that she was left alone here for some time with a man who obviously despised her.

‘Don’t let me keep you from anything,’ she invited stiffly as Gideon still sat across from her, calmly drinking his own strong coffee.

He raised mocking brows. ‘What did you have in mind?’

She shrugged. ‘Having your breakfast? Packing?’ Leaving!

The sooner he made his departure, the sooner she could get on with relaxing—something she certainly couldn’t do around this man, either physically or mentally. Every remark he made to her, it seemed, had some sort of double meaning.

‘I don’t fancy breakfast,’ he answered her evenly. ‘But you go ahead.’

‘I’ll pass, thanks.’ She didn’t fancy breakfast, either.

But what about his packing? He was dressed casually today, in fitted black denims and a deep blue tee shirt, which meant he had his suit from yesterday to pack, at least…

‘It was a pity you left the party so early yesterday evening,’ Gideon drawled lightly.

Surely he hadn’t missed having her there? Or was it just that he hadn’t had anyone to sharpen his rapier tongue on once she had gone upstairs to bed? That was probably nearer the truth.

‘David had us all in hysterics with some of his more risqué stories of the acting profession,’ Gideon enlightened her dryly.

She would just bet that he had. In her experience, there was always more action going on behind the scenes than in front of the camera. Although, thankfully, she had never worked with David before, so none of those stories could have been about her.

She gave a grimace of a smile. ‘I’m sure we all have some of those we could relate.’

‘Even you?’

Why had that sounded like especially you? Or was she just ultra-sensitive where this man was concerned? In the circumstances, was that so surprising?