Mistletoe Magic

CHAPTER FOUR

THE phrase ‘you look like hell’ came to mind as Molly looked at herself in the dressing-table mirror the following morning. Her hair stood out in a wild tumble of curls and her face pale, with dark shadows beneath her eyes.

It wasn’t just any morning, either; it was Christmas Eve.

But she had never felt less like Christmas than she did at this moment. She had spent a sleepless night, alternately looking at the spider or thinking of the things Gideon had said to her the previous evening.

He really believed she’d had an affair with his brother James behind Crys’s back.

For one thing, she hadn’t felt that way about James—had only ever looked on him as a friend. For another, Crys was her best friend; there was no way Molly could ever have betrayed that friendship, even if she had been in love with James, by sneaking behind Crys’s back and having an affair with him.

But if Gideon ever chose to tell Crys of that morning when he had arrived at the apartment Crys had shared with James, and found Molly in residence, her only clothing one of James’s shirts, would her friend be able to believe in her complete innocence?

Molly would assure her that James had only ever been her friend. But in light of that night Molly had once spent at the married couple’s apartment, while Crys had been away, the night Gideon was aware of, too, would Crys still believe in her innocence?

Gideon had contemptuously assured her he had no intention of ever telling Crys about that night, that he had no desire to hurt her or to ever see her hurt, but would he continue to feel that way if it no longer suited his own plans?

Unhappily, the conclusion Molly had come to during the long sleepless night had been that she simply didn’t know the answer to that question. Despite her aversion to going anywhere near the man ever again, she would have to speak to Gideon on the subject.

But not until she had done something about the way she looked.

And she did try. She washed her hair and styled it until it was silkily gleaming on her shoulders, applied make-up to hide her paleness and those dark shadows beneath her eyes, even chose her clothes carefully: a burnt-orange-coloured blouse teamed with fitted black denims. It was just that none of those things could hide the fact that she looked and felt thoroughly exhausted from all the thinking she had done during the night.

Oh, damn the man—and his suspicious mind. If it weren’t for both those things she would be enjoying a warm family Christmas with Crys, Sam and the baby, just as she had envisaged when she’d accepted their invitation to stay.

‘Last again?’ Gideon taunted the moment she entered the kitchen, shortly after nine o’clock.

He would have to be the first person she saw this morning—and he wasn’t alone, either. Crys was sitting at the kitchen table with him.

The latter turned to smile warmly at Molly as she walked over to pour herself some coffee from the pot. ‘Sam and David have taken Peter and Merlin for a walk to give me a few minutes’ break; Peter was cranky all night—didn’t seem to want to settle.’ She grimaced affectionately.

‘I know the feeling.’ Molly nodded, sipping her hot coffee, her brooding gaze daring Gideon to come back with another one of his barbed comments after the total inaccuracy of his initial statement; they both knew that David had been the last down the previous morning.

Crys at once looked concerned. ‘Sam said there was a spider in your bedroom last night,’ she sympathised.

Molly looked coldly at Gideon now. ‘There was,’ she confirmed flatly. And that sadistic swine had left her alone in her bedroom with it all night.

He returned her gaze steadily, the blandness of his expression giving away none of his emotions or thoughts.

In Molly’s opinion he didn’t have any of the former, and far too much of the latter.

‘Lucky that Gideon was able to deal with it for you.’ Crys nodded happily.

The only thing Gideon had dealt with was his own need to tell Molly exactly what he thought of her—before leaving her alone with that monster spider!

‘Wasn’t it?’ she returned noncommittally, no longer even looking at Gideon, just too tired to cope with any more of his scorn, even in a look. ‘Could I borrow your car to go into town this morning?’ She turned to Crys. ‘I still have a little last-minute shopping to do.’

It had also occurred to her some time during the sleepless night that, as she hadn’t known they were going to be here over the holiday period, she didn’t have presents to give to either David or Gideon tomorrow morning.

Not that she particularly wanted to get Gideon a Christmas present, unless it was a bottle of arsenic, but it would certainly look odd if she bought something for everyone else and deliberately excluded him.

There was no help for it; she would have to buy him a present, too. Something completely impersonal, she had finally decided—like a one-way ticket to the North Pole. He would certainly feel at home there, amongst all that ice and snow.

‘I’m driving into town myself this morning.’ Gideon was the one to answer her. ‘So you may as well come in with me.’

Molly’s eyes widened in horror at the thought of spending any more time alone with this man while she felt so tired and vulnerable. And she made no effort to hide the emotion when he looked at her mockingly.

‘What a wonderful idea!’ Thankfully Crys had turned to look at Gideon and didn’t see Molly’s response to the suggestion. ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t mind picking up a newspaper and my order from the butcher’s while you’re there?’

‘Glad to,’ Gideon assured her smoothly.

‘Great.’ Crys grinned as she stood up. ‘I’ll just go and get the list.’ She hurried from the room.

Oh, yes, just great, Molly echoed heavily in her thoughts, knowing it had been taken for granted that she would accept Gideon’s offer to drive her into town.

And why not? Ordinarily it would be the normal thing to do. It was just that there was nothing in the least ‘ordinary’ about the emotions that passed like electric volts between Gideon and herself.

‘You look tired this morning.’

It was a statement, not a question, and a totally unwelcome one as far as Molly was concerned. Once again she looked up to glare at Gideon. ‘And whose fault is that, do you think?’ she challenged tartly.

He grimaced. ‘From the accusation in your tone, I gather that it’s mine…?’

Her eyes flashed deeply brown. ‘You gather correctly. You—’

‘Here we are.’ Crys bustled back into the room with the appropriate list. ‘It’s the shop in the square—not the one down the street,’ she added lightly, not seeming in the least aware of the tension in the kitchen between Molly and Gideon.

And why should she be? Molly reasoned ruefully. As Gideon had already pointed out, as far as any of the family were concerned the two of them had only met for the first time at the christening.

‘I’m sure that between the two of us we’ll manage to find it,’ Gideon assured her as he stood up. ‘Hmm, Molly?’ he prompted pointedly.

Molly felt a small shock run through her body as he called her by her first name, sure that it was the first time he had done so in the last two days. Not that it had sounded in the least warm or familiar—just slightly alien coming from this particular man.

‘I’m sure we will,’ she confirmed flatly. ‘I’ll just go and get my coat and meet you at the car.’ She turned to leave without waiting for any response to this remark, just needing to get away for a few minutes on her own.

To regroup.

Also to make sure she removed all sharp instruments from her handbag—just in case she was goaded into sticking any of them into Gideon as he drove. After all, it was him she felt like doing harm to, not herself.

The green Jaguar saloon was comfortable, she would give him that, Molly allowed grudgingly a few minutes later when she sat beside Gideon as he drove the car down the long driveway out onto the public road. Warm and comfortable. But that was only the car. The owner was anything but those things.

Perhaps it was too warm and comfortable, she decided a few minutes later as her eyes began to close and her head to nod tiredly.

‘You really are tired, aren’t you?’ Gideon said slowly as Molly made a concerted effort to stay awake.

‘Why would I say I was if I wasn’t?’ she snapped back testily.

There was complete silence in the car for several long seconds, and then Gideon gave a sigh. ‘Perhaps I was a little hard on you last night,’ he said grudgingly.

Molly turned to give him a sharply suspicious look. Surely he couldn’t be apologising for the things he had accused her of yesterday evening?

He glanced at her, dark blond brows rising as she warily returned his brief gaze before it returned to the road ahead. ‘I was referring to my omission to dispose of the spider,’ he drawled derisively.

No, she had been right the first time; he wasn’t apologising for the accusations he had made.

‘Did you spend all night keeping a wary eye on it?’ he added with some amusement—completely nullifying the previous apology.

‘Don’t give it another thought,’ Molly dismissed hardly, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing she had done just that.

‘I wouldn’t have done—’ he shrugged ‘—if it weren’t for the fact that you look so exhausted this morning.’

‘By “exhausted” I presume you mean awful?’ she bit out resentfully; so much for the washed hair and make-up.

He gave another shrug of those broad shoulders. ‘Well…’

Molly felt the angry colour warm her cheeks as she glared at him. ‘Do you ever say anything nice?’ she snapped caustically.

‘Frequently.’ He nodded, completely unabashed. ‘For instance, in contrast to what you were wearing on Sunday, the blouse you’re wearing this morning suits your colouring perfectly.’

The compliment was so unexpected that it left Molly speechless. And slightly tearful, she realised with dismay.

Overtired.

Overwrought.

Just over-everything…

Gideon gave her another glance, frowning slightly. ‘Wasn’t that a nice thing to say?’

Molly gave a deep sigh, aware even as she did so of just how tensely she had been sitting as she relaxed back against the seat. The problem was, even ‘nice’ sounded suspect coming from this man.

‘Thank you,’ she accepted huskily.

‘You’re welcome.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll go and hunt down the spider when we get back, if you like,’ he added huskily.

She shook her head wearily. ‘There’s no need for that.’

His eyes widened. ‘You managed to deal with it yourself?’

‘No,’ she acknowledged ruefully. ‘I meant that to my certain knowledge it hasn’t moved an inch from its balancing act above the bed—so there will be no need to hunt it down.’

A frown appeared between those dark blue eyes. ‘I’m not usually a deliberately vindictive man,’ he rasped.

Molly grimaced. ‘You’re just happy to make me the exception, hmm?’

The frown deepened. ‘Not happy, exactly…’

‘Oh, just go for it, Gideon.’ Molly gave a tiredly rueful laugh.

The frown remained. ‘You really spent all night watching that spider?’

‘I really did.’ She nodded self-derisively. ‘After all, I could hardly go along and ask Sam for help after you had assured him so emphatically that you had already dealt with it.’

Gideon’s mouth thinned. ‘I feel really bad now,’ he rasped self-disgustedly.

Molly eyed him questioningly. ‘How bad?’

‘Bad,’ he accepted slowly.

‘Bad enough to listen to my side of what happened three years ago?’ Molly came back, more decisively than she would have believed herself capable of this particular morning.

He stiffened. ‘No,’ he rasped harshly. ‘I feel guilty for leaving that spider in your room when you obviously are an arachnophobic. That doesn’t mean I’m about to let you try to convince me that I didn’t see that morning what I definitely did see.’

Hard. Unyielding. Judgemental, Molly decided frustratedly. How could she reason with a man like that?

She couldn’t, came the unpleasant answer. Although that wasn’t going to stop her from trying.

‘However,’ Gideon continued hardly before she could formulate a reply, ‘what I am willing to do is call a truce on the subject over the Christmas period.’

‘Big of you!’ she snapped impatiently.

His mouth tightened ominously. ‘It’s the best offer you’re going to get,’ he bit out harshly. ‘In fact,’ he continued grimly, ‘as far as I’m concerned it’s the only offer you’re going to get.’

In other words, take it or leave it! And in the circumstances—not wanting to spoil Christmas for the others, if any of them should pick up on the barbed warfare between herself and Gideon—Molly knew she would have to take it.’

Her mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘I take it this “truce” will cease being in effect the moment midnight strikes on Boxing Night?’

His own smile was just as humourless. ‘Actually, I’m staying until the morning of the twenty-eighth—think you can manage to be polite for that long?’ He quirked dark blond brows at her.

‘I’m not the one being impolite!’ she returned waspishly.

Gideon gave a shrug of broad shoulders. ‘I’m willing to give the alternative a try.’

Molly bit back the angry retort she would have liked to make, on the basis that it wasn’t a very good way to begin a truce—but that didn’t mean she didn’t still have murderous tendencies towards this arrogant man.

‘Fine,’ she bit out between gritted teeth.

He turned to give her a mocking glance. ‘So, what are you going to buy me for Christmas?’ he taunted.

Molly’s eyes widened at his astuteness in guessing what her ‘last-minute shopping’ actually was, and then she gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I did have a bottle of arsenic in mind—but then I decided that might be a little too obvious!’

To her surprise. Gideon gave an appreciative chuckle. And once again it transformed his whole face, giving him a boyish look, turning his blue gaze warm rather than arctic.

Which, considering Molly’s total awareness of him probably wasn’t a good idea…

‘Maybe a little,’ he finally conceded, still smiling.

‘What would you like me to get you?’ she prompted interestedly, having no idea what this man’s interests or preferences were.

In any subject!

He was here alone, so he obviously wasn’t involved in a relationship at the moment; he would be spending Christmas with whoever it was if that were the case. But that posed the question: what sort of woman was he attracted to? Obviously not petite redheads who happened to be frightened of spiders.

Now why on earth had she had that thought? Molly wondered crossly. It was bad enough that she should have allowed herself to be attracted to him, without wishing he might find some redeeming attraction in her.

Besides, she already had an idea that Gideon’s attraction lay towards fragile silver-blonds with haunting grey eyes. Crys…

‘Well, I don’t like chocolate, and I have enough aftershave already,’ Gideon answered her slowly. ‘Would a book be impersonal enough, do you think?’ he prompted softly.

Molly felt her cheeks flush; did this man know everything? ‘I’m sure that it would,’ she bit out tersely. ‘What sort of book did you have in mind?’ Something erudite and learned, no doubt, Molly reasoned wryly.

Gideon shrugged. ‘There is a book I’ve been meaning to buy for some time. I was waiting for it to come out in paperback, and then I just forgot to buy it…’

‘Yes?’ Molly prompted dryly, wondering if her bank account had enough in it to cover the cost of a book this man hadn’t yet got around to buying for himself.

The move from America back to England had worked out quite expensive, what with shipping her few personal belongings back here and finding herself a flat to live in. But, on the bright side, at least she was one of the ten per cent of actors who were in work at any one time.

Gideon eyed her frowningly. ‘Perhaps you already had something in mind? Besides the arsenic, that is,’ he taunted.

She gave a shake of her head. ‘Not a thing.’ She doubted the one-way ticket to the North Pole would have been any better received. ‘In fact, I would more than welcome any useful advice you could give me in that direction,’ she assured him briskly, knowing she had no idea what to get for David, either.

She was also wondering what Gideon had got her for Christmas…

Obviously he had already known he would be staying for Christmas, and who the other guests were to be, so he would have purchased something for each of them before coming up to Yorkshire. Knowing how he felt about her, she dreaded to think what he would have as a gift for her.

Gideon nodded. ‘Okay, then. One of my favourite comedians is Billy Connolly, and—’

‘I don’t believe it!’ Molly protested incredulously, and colour flooded her cheeks as she realised what she had said. ‘I mean—well…Billy Connolly is—’ Whatever she had been trying to say, she gave it up as a bad job to stare at Gideon dazedly.

Billy Connolly? He was her absolute all-time favourite comedian, and had proved himself to be an exceptional actor in recent years, too. She would just never, ever have thought that Gideon Webber would like him, too…

‘An acquired taste,’ Gideon acknowledged dryly, obviously mistaking her surprise for censure. ‘One that I acquired during my university days and have never lost,’ he added ruefully.

Molly had already read the book Gideon was referring to, written by the comedian’s wife, and had found it to be moving, tragic. But ultimately the often outrageous Scottish comedian’s gift of humour had shone through all the hardships suffered in his childhood. She was just having difficulty coming to terms with having that like shared by Gideon Webber, of all people.

‘One that I acquired years ago, too,’ Molly told him evenly, deliberately masking her surprise at his preference. If asked, she would have sworn that she and Gideon had absolutely nothing in common. ‘And it’s a great book,’ she assured him. ‘What do you think I should get David?’ She deliberately changed the subject, still slightly rattled by discovering that she and Gideon had the same sense of humour.

‘That’s easy,’ Gideon answered smilingly. ‘We discussed the book last night, and David hasn’t read it yet, either.’

David sharing her slightly offbeat sense of humour she could more readily understand…

Although wasn’t it just a little too impersonal to buy both men the same gift? It might look as if she had been out and bought a job lot to attain a discount.

Gideon glanced at her. ‘I can assure you that we will both be more than pleased with the gift.’

‘Fine with me,’ Molly accepted briskly, deciding that impersonal was definitely the way to go with both these men when taking into account Sam’s warning of Crys’s attempts at matchmaking.

Something to keep constantly in mind, considering Crys’s satisfied look as she’d stood in the driveway and watched the two of them drive off together earlier.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘THERE we are,’ Gideon told Molly with satisfaction as he turned from putting the huge spider out of her bedroom window.

‘Thank you,’ she accepted awkwardly, finding his presence in her bedroom for the second time in twenty-four hours more than a little disconcerting.

Their trip into town together hadn’t turned out quite as she had expected. She had thought that Gideon would go off and do his own chores while she wandered around doing her own. But that hadn’t happened at all—Gideon seeming quite happy to stroll around with her. Even when she’d gone into the bookshop to buy the two books Gideon had simply waited outside for her, and then they had recommenced their stroll up the street.

It had been a little disconcerting, to say the least. The shoppers around them had obviously been infused with the happiness of the Christmas spirit, and there had been none of the mad rush and bustle in this little country town that Molly had left behind her in London. People had seemed to have time to stop and chat with each other, even though most of them were laden down with gaily wrapped parcels, and the coloured lights and decorated windows had all added to the relaxed atmosphere of warmth and cheer.

Surrounded by such obvious good humour and goodwill, it had been impossible not to become caught up in it—even Gideon had seemed more relaxed, if not exactly friendly.

That was probably a little too much to hope for, Molly accepted ruefully.

But his slightly softened attitude certainly gave her hope that the Christmas holiday wasn’t going to be as unpleasant as she had thought it would—but not enough to introduce the subject of that night just over three years ago; that would be sure to reintroduce a complete dampener on the whole thing.

‘Where do you suppose everyone is?’ Molly frowned now, anxious to get Gideon out of her bedroom, but also concerned that there had seemed to be no one else at home when they’d arrived back a short time ago, having picked up the requested newspaper and meat from the butcher’s.

Gideon shrugged. ‘Maybe they’ve all gone out for lunch on the assumption we would probably do the same?’

Oh, yes, she could just see Gideon and herself sitting down to eat lunch alone together—something guaranteed to give them both indigestion, she would have thought.

Although, bearing in mind Crys’s newly acquired matchmaking tendencies, Molly wouldn’t put it past her friend to have deliberately left her alone here with Gideon in an effort to further their friendship.

‘Maybe.’ She grimaced. ‘In that case—’

‘Hi, you two!’ David greeted them from the hallway just outside Molly’s bedroom. ‘Do you happen to know whether or not you’ve had chickenpox?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Gideon frowned uncomprehendingly.

‘Sorry?’ Molly felt just as puzzled—although that didn’t stop the colour entering her cheeks at Gideon once again being found in her bedroom.

David stepped into the doorway. ‘Apparently the reason Peter has been feeling less than his usual cheerful self is due to a rash on his face and chest. The doctor is with him now, deciding whether or not it’s chickenpox,’ he explained with a grimace.

‘Oh, no,’ Molly groaned sympathetically.

‘Chickenpox?’ Gideon’s frown deepened. ‘Isn’t he a little young to get something like that?’

Too young, Molly acknowledged worriedly. Peter was only three months old…

‘That’s what the doctor said,’ David acknowledged lightly.

‘I’ll go and see Crys now…’

David put out a hand to stop Molly as she would have hurried from the bedroom. ‘Not if you haven’t already had chickenpox,’ he warned.

‘I have,’ she assured him. ‘According to my mother I had every childhood disease going before I was a year old,’ she added ruefully.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ Gideon muttered dryly.

Her eyes flashed deeply brown as she shot him a look across the room. ‘Have you had chickenpox?’

He drew his breath in with a heavy sigh. ‘As it happens, no,’ he admitted with a grimace.

‘Oops,’ David sympathised. ‘If it actually is chickenpox, it seems that Peter will have been at his most infectious from the christening onwards,’ he explained at Gideon’s questioningly raised brows.

It was all Molly could do to hold back her smile. Oh, it would be awful if a baby as young as Peter had contracted the infection, but the thought of the arrogantly confident Gideon Webber struck down with the unsightly rash was enough to make anyone smile.

‘Perhaps you should leave now?’ she suggested lightly—hope still sprang eternal that this man might not be here to ruin Christmas.

‘That wouldn’t be allowed, I’m afraid,’ David was the one to answer her. ‘The doctor has already said that if it is chickenpox, if we’ve all been in contact with Peter during the last forty-eight hours, that we would have to remain a self-contained unit for at least the next five days or so to see if any of us develop the infection.’

Five days? When Molly had been expecting to rid herself of Gideon within a couple of days!

But the look of mockery that had replaced Gideon’s frown was enough for her to immediately hide her dismay. ‘I’ll go and see if there’s any news,’ she offered briskly, deliberately turning away from Gideon—and his knowingly taunting look.

Poor Peter did look very disgruntled when Molly entered the nursery a few seconds later, his face all red and blotchy from crying. Crys’s face was pale and anxious as she held him in her arms.

‘How is he?’ Molly asked a grey-faced Sam as he stood beside Crys, looking down worriedly at his young son.

‘It’s what’s commonly called milk rash.’ It was the young female doctor who answered her lightly. ‘Uncomfortable for Peter, but fortunately he doesn’t have a temperature or anything like that,’ she added reassuringly. ‘Poor little love is just feeling a trifle fed up with the world—aren’t you, Peter?’ She touched him comfortingly. ‘And his first Christmas, too.’

In actual fact, apart from the slight rash on his face and chest, and his cheeks blotchy from crying, Peter looked in better health than either of his parents, Molly decided, after taking in Crys’s ashen face and Sam’s anxious gaze as he continued to look at his wife and son.

‘Well, that’s really good news.’ Molly smiled at the pretty doctor.

The doctor grinned back. ‘Isn’t it?’ She nodded, obviously relieved to have someone other than worried parents to talk to. ‘I’m sure the rash will fade very soon, and Peter will be back to his normal placid self,’ she added dismissively, ‘but if you have any more worries about him at all over Christmas, please don’t hesitate to call me. I shall be on call all over the holiday period,’ she said ruefully.

‘Poor you,’ Molly sympathised as she escorted the doctor out of the nursery and down the wide staircase to the front door.

The lights on the Christmas tree they had dressed the previous evening blinked on and off warmly as they passed the sitting-room.

The doctor shrugged. ‘It seems only fair, as my partners all have families they would like to be with.’

The doctor was probably aged in her mid-thirties, and was extremely pretty in a blond, blue-eyed, no-nonsense sort of way; it seemed unfair that she was to spend Christmas alone.

‘Everything okay?’ David prompted as he came out of the sitting-room. He was obviously the one responsible for putting on the Christmas lights; neither Crys nor Sam was in any mood to think of anything to do with Christmas at the moment.

Molly drifted off into the kitchen as the doctor and the actor fell into easy conversation and David took over the task of escorting the doctor to her car.

From the looks of things, what with Peter’s obvious discomfort and the doctor’s visit, no one had yet had any lunch, and now certainly wasn’t the time to ask Crys what she’d had in mind for the meal. But a quick look in the fridge revealed a huge bowl of freshly made chicken soup, and Molly had already seen there were three French sticks on the table to accompany it.

‘Oh!’ She gasped as she straightened from the fridge to find Gideon standing behind her; he moved with the silence of a feline.

‘Steady.’ He reached out and took the heavy bowl from her as it wobbled precariously. ‘Where shall I put this?’

Those raised blond brows dared her to make the answer that had sprung so readily to her lips, but Molly clamped those lips together for several seconds before answering. ‘Just on the table, thanks,’ she said briskly. ‘I think Crys and Sam need to eat something after all that worry,’ she added ruefully.

Gideon nodded. ‘Nothing ever looks as bad on a full stomach.’

Molly wasn’t so sure that a bowl of soup and some French bread would work the same magic with her, concerning spending Christmas with this man.

Gideon grinned as he seemed to guess her thoughts. ‘Well…usually not,’ he drawled mockingly.

She glared up at him. ‘Why don’t you lay the table and make yourself useful, instead of standing there tormenting me?’ she bit out crossly, having transferred the soup to a large saucepan and put it on top of the Aga to warm while she cut the bread up into more manageable pieces.

Gideon didn’t move, still standing far too close to her than was comfortable. ‘Am I tormenting you?’ he murmured huskily.

Molly swallowed hard. ‘You know that you are!’ she snapped, at the same time knowing that her voice lacked conviction.

What was it about this man that made her so aware of him? So physically aware of him—totally aware of the muscled tautness of his body, of the clean, male smell of him, of the arrogant curve to that sculptured mouth. In fact, she was so much aware of him at the moment that she could hardly breathe, let alone force her limbs to move away from him.

That dark blue gaze easily held her captive. ‘In what way am I tormenting you?’ he prompted softly, the warmth of his breath stirring the silky tendrils of hair at her temple, his mouth only inches away from her own now as he bent his head towards hers.

In what way was he tormenting her? In every way. Verbally, he more often than not left her self-confidence in shreds. Emotionally, he reduced her to a jibbering wreck. And as for physically…

She didn’t want to think about what Gideon did to her physically.

‘I must say it’s good that Peter doesn’t have chickenpox after all,’ David said with relief as he strolled into the kitchen.

Molly looked up wordlessly at Gideon for several more long seconds, unable to break the pull of that darkly compelling gaze. She felt her cheeks pale as the seconds passed, knowing Gideon was the last man she should ever have allowed to affect her in this way.

Why did he?