A Christmas Affair Page 3

  Dominic drew in a harsh breath. 'I thought we were at least—friends.'

  Now it was Cathy's turn to frown. Dominic didn't have what she would have classed actual friends. He had a lot of acquaintances, but no one who was really close to him. And she had always believed he preferred it that way.

  'Don't look so stunned, Cathy,' he drawled self-derisively. 'My obvious misapprehension doesn't bind you to anything.'

  Friends? Dominic and she? If they were, it wasn't the sort of friendship she was used to— nothing at all like the friendship she had shared with Jade for so many years. With Jade, it didn't matter how long it had been since the two of them had last seen each other; they would instantly fall into a warm conversation as if it had been yesterday, talking about any­thing and nothing, whatever the two of them wished. She and Dominic had never talked like that together.

  And yet she could see she had offended Dominic by her scepticism, and she wished there were some way she could undo her sur­prise at his assumption. It was the first time she had ever heard Dominic presume such a friendship existed between them, and now it looked as if she was throwing it back in his face!

  'I've always hoped we were,' she returned non-committally.

  But she had always believed that friends confided things to each other, and other than what she had read about Dominic's personal life in magazine articles, plus the few brief glimpses he had given her himself, she knew little or nothing about him.

  And anyone could find out that he came from a working-class background, that his parents had died while he was relatively young, and that he had been brought up by a spinster aunt after that. She didn't need to read it any­where to know that he never went out with women, or at least, if he did, he was very, very discreet. As regarded his business life, she knew all about that to the last detail. What she didn't know was what devil it was that drove him.

  And if he really regarded her as a friend he would have felt able to confide at least part of the reason for his single-minded attitude to life.

  But she only knew that he was the man she loved. At the same time, she knew that he had memories buried inside him, memories that had scarred too deeply for him to share them with anyone. She knew that instinctively, not from anything he had ever said or shown from his actions. There was evidence enough in the closed man that he was.

  The times that she had hoped and prayed he would open up to her! But all he had ever chosen to discuss with her was business. That was never likely to change now. And it had ob­viously been enough for Dominic all these years.

  'As close as I've got to having one,' he mockingly echoed her thoughts, as if he had found it all too easy to read them. He glanced at her. 'Why don't you settle down and have a sleep? And don't say you aren't tired,' he added softly as she went to protest. 'Because I know damn well you must be.'

  'I was just about to remind you that you had agreed we would take it in turns to drive,' she said.

  He shrugged. 'As we've only gone about fifteen miles, I think I might manage to carry on for a while longer!'

  His sarcastic sense of humour had taken a lot of getting used to when she had first gone to work for him, especially as the closest he ever came to acknowledging that humour himself was the occasional glitter of amusement in the dark green eyes!

  'I'll wake you when I've had enough,' he added drily.

  She made a face at him, receiving a mocking quirk of his mouth in response. 'Just make sure you do,' she warned as she settled down more comfortably, closing her eyes.

  'Yes, ma'am,' he drawled.

  Cathy opened one eye and looked at him. 'Try and remember that in future I'm no longer restrained in my responses by the fact that I work for you,' she said.

  'I can't say I ever noticed that fact keeping you silent in the past,' he mocked. 'Your honesty, brutal or otherwise, has always been one of the things I've most liked about you.'

  She had never even realised he did like her. He had picked a hell of a time to decide to tell her he did!

  Not that it would have made any difference to her earlier decision. Liking wasn't loving, and she was no longer willing to settle for any­thing less, especially the scraps Dominic was able to give her. Lord knew she had flared up at Jade about appreciating the value of love when it was offered to her; she couldn't then opt for anything less for herself.

  She had a feeling Jade was well aware of her love for Dominic, although, surprisingly, that was the one thing the two of them had never talked about. Jade was her best friend, but somehow her love for Dominic had always seemed too sensitive a subject to put into words, even to someone as close to her as Jade was. Maybe because she knew that love was so hopeless. The last thing she wanted was pity.

  She chanced another glance at Dominic be­neath lowered lashes. He looked grim again. What was he thinking about as he drove along so competently? She never had been able to even guess at his thoughts, the facade he showed to the world always enigmatic.

  He was probably thinking of something quite mundane—such as how insane the two of them must be to be undertaking this journey at all! It might have been nice, just for once, to im­agine they were a little in tune with each other. But, as she knew all too well, Dominic was a past master at hiding his thoughts, and feelings, from everyone.

  Although he had certainly shown some re­action to her handing in her resignation, Cathy acknowledged ruefully. Though she certainly wasn't going to attempt to build any more hopeless dreams on that.

  She closed her eyes determinedly, wishing the journey—and this torture—over. Beyond this lay the warmth of Penny and Simon and their home, the wonder of Jade and David's love for each other, the innocence of her two young nephews as they excitedly looked forward to Christmas.

  She smiled at the thoughts, wishing herself there, longing for that enveloping warmth, not aware of the moment when the thoughts became a hazy dream and carried her off to sleep…

  'Lunch, Cathy.'

  Lunch? What did lunch have to do with the golden vision before her, all the family seated about the brightly lit Christmas tree? But even as the irritated question came to her Dominic appeared in the vision carrying a silver tray of food. And he looked so right there among her family and friends, so incredibly perfect, so—

  'I said it's time for lunch, Cathy,' that in­trusive voice persisted.

  So he kept saying. But she wasn't in the least hungry, and—

  'Cathy, wake up.' A firm hand shook her shoulder.

  She frowned at the irritation, trying unsuc­cessfully to shake off the hand, only to have the action repeated, more vigorously this time. 'Go away,' she muttered impatiently.

  'You always were bad-tempered when you woke up.' Dominic was amused now.

  Cathy was frowning as she reluctantly opened her eyes, the wonderful dream having disappeared as if it had never been. As it hadn't. Dreams were an impossibility.

  Dominic was sitting turned towards her in his seat, not the smiling, loving man in her dreams, but the cynic she was more used to.

  'You've been asleep almost two hours, and I need some lunch,' he told her practically.

  She moved stiffly, still frowning darkly as she straightened in her seat to look around them. Dominic had stopped at one of the roadside service areas, and outside the car the snow still fell softly, thick on the ground where there were no vehicles to churn it up and melt it into muddy slush. The sky was darker above them, too, as if the weight of the snow yet to come was hanging heavily above them.

  'Stop complaining, when it was your sug­gestion that I sleep,' she snapped moodily, looking in the overhead mirror and doing her best to straighten her appearance before they got out.

  Dominic smiled at her bad temper, shaking his head. 'Let's go and get something to eat. Fussing over your appearance isn't going to do you a lot of good when you get outside in the wind.'

  The coldness outside did a lot to revive her spirits; she had always loved the snow. Large flecks of it landed on her face and hair, and
she was gazing up at the featherlight flakes when her footing suddenly seemed to go from under her and she felt herself falling.

  'Steady.' Dominic's hand was instantly under her elbow as he kept her on her feet, easily sup­porting her weight beside him. 'Perhaps you'd better hold on to me.' He put her hand in the crook of his arm and held it there.

  During the whole time she had worked for him, Dominic had rarely had a need to touch her, and having his hand against hers now made the cold completely disappear. Cathy suddenly felt too warm for comfort.

  As was usual in these places, the service area was noisy and crowded, especially so as it was Christmas Eve, with everyone more than full of the joys of the season as they anticipated the holiday ahead.

  The queue for food in the restaurant looked never-ending, and several people were so bored by the wait that they were indulging in horseplay that could only be described as juv­enile, one teenage boy very free with his mistle­toe as he moved among the queue looking for all the pretty young ladies.

  Cathy winced as she glanced sideways at Dominic, knowing from experience that he hated anything resembling a fast-food res­taurant at the best of times. And with the volume of people that passed through these service areas in a day they couldn't be classed as anything else!

  But today Dominic didn't seem in the least concerned by their surroundings. Just as he seemed totally unaware of the fact that Cathy's hand was still tucked warmly inside his arm!

  'Wow, my luck's really in today,' murmured an admiring voice.

  During her preoccupation with Dominic Cathy had completely forgotten the young man with the mistletoe, but unfortunately he seemed to have reached their place in the queue.

  He was a young man of about eighteen, with an untidy mop of blond hair and mischievous blue eyes, wearing the customary jeans and thick jacket.

  And he looked as if he had every intention of kissing her.

  'I don't think so,' Dominic drawled softly.

  An irritated blue gaze was turned on the older man as he stood so commandingly at Cathy's side. The two gazes clashed challengingly but, whatever it was the younger man read in Dominic's eyes, he looked disappointed rather than rebellious when he turned back wistfully towards Cathy.

  Then his expression brightened suddenly. 'Well, there's no reason why the mistletoe shouldn't be put to good use.' And he held the green sprig with its creamy berries over Cathy's and Dominic's heads, his intention obvious as he looked at them expectantly.

  Cathy was too embarrassed by the action to even glance at Dominic.

  How on earth were they going to get out of this one, and with everyone in the near vicinity turning to look at them curiously now? If Dominic tried to cry off by claiming she worked for him he was only likely to receive ribald comments from the over-enthusiastic crowd in here today.

  But the idea of the two of them actually kissing each other was unthinkable too!

  'I—'

  'It is Christmas, Cathy,' Dominic reminded her softly, the firmness of his lips softening into a smile as her mouth fell open in surprise at his remark.

  The fact that her mouth had fallen open made the brief brushing together of lips that the kiss should have been virtually impossible, their mouths melding together in a kiss that took Cathy's breath away.

  Dominic was actually kissing her, was standing in the middle of a crowded restaurant and kissing her! It was unreal. Incredible. Beautiful. Wonderful…

  And over much too soon.

  She swayed dizzily, her mouth still raised in­vitingly as Dominic straightened, looking as cool and in control as he usually did. And for all the world as if he hadn't just shattered Cathy's own control.

  The young man with the mistletoe moved off down the queue in the search of more victims of his pranks, having no idea of the turmoil he had left behind him.

  The focus was no longer on the two of them, and yet Cathy couldn't speak. Her lips still felt the touch of Dominic's, firm and oh, so sensual, not cold and unyielding as they had always appeared.

  She was breathing hard, her fingernails digging into the sleeve of Dominic's jacket where she still clung to his arm, slowly forcing her grip to relax as Dominic looked down at her enquiringly.

  'I—' She moistened dry lips. 'I'm sorry about that.'

  'It doesn't matter,' he dismissed shrugging, turning to organise their food on to a tray. 'It didn't hurt.'

  It took a couple of minutes for Cathy to re­alise he was talking about her nails digging into his arm, and not the kiss!

  How could he just carry on as if nothing un­usual had happened, when to her it had been the single most breathtaking experience of her life? Because he wasn't in love, she acknowl­edged heavily.

  But, whatever she had thought of the in­timate side of his life during the past few years, the kiss he had given her had been that of an expert, practised and assured. And she was left wondering who he had done the practising with!

  'You didn't mind what happened just now, did you?' Dominic had turned and seen her frowning expression. 'I thought it would cause less embarrassment to all concerned if we just humoured the young man.'

  Of course he had; he certainly hadn't wanted to kiss her.

  'I realised as much.' She nodded abruptly. 'The chicken looks nice,' she murmured brightly, the slightly dry-looking poultry, de­spite the sauce that covered it, not really ap­pealing to her at all. In fact, the thought of any food at all made her feel ill.

  'Won't you be having enough turkey over Christmas?' Dominic taunted.

  More than enough, if the turkeys she re­membered Penny buying in the past were any­thing to go by. The remark about the chicken had just been for something to say rather than any real interest in the subject.

  'The chicken, please,' she requested from the lady who was serving up the meals, stubbornly ignoring Dominic's mockery. 'Thank you.' She smiled warmly at the woman before moving on with her tray, picking up a dessert she didn't want either, and a cup of coffee that resembled black tar from sitting in the pot so long. And all the time she studiously avoided showing any interest in the meal Dominic was choosing for himself, although she did note that he hadn't opted for the chicken.

  'I'll pay for all this,' he told her as they reached the checkout.

  Cathy looked at him coldly. 'I'll pay; we aren't on company expenses now, you know.'

  'You—'

  'All on one bill, please,' she told the waiting woman firmly, her purse already out of her bag, her expression unyielding as she waited for the total before handing over the money.

  'I was only going to say,' said Dominic softly as they moved away in search of an empty table, 'thank you.' He deftly moved in on a table that had recently been vacated.

  Cathy gave him a frowning look as she joined him. 'You don't have to go over the top in an effort to try and keep me on as your PA,' she finally drawled dismissively.

  He sat back in his chair, looking at her con­sideringly, his eyes a deep green between thick, dark lashes. 'Is that what I'm doing?'

  'Yes,' she snapped, not fooled for a minute; she knew him too well to be taken in. He was being just too amenable. 'And you might as well save yourself the time and effort.'

  'It isn't working, hmm?' He grimaced.

  'Not in the least,' she assured him tri­umphantly. Although a few more kisses like the one they had shared a few minutes ago and she would agree to anything!

  Cathy took over the driving when they resumed their journey. The snow was still falling softly, although the motorway was being kept quite clear. Nevertheless, the driving con­ditions were hazardous, and her shoulders, arms and neck all ached from the tension after only a short time behind the wheel.

  Not that she was going to admit that to Dominic. He had driven for hours, and she was going to do the same. Especially as he seemed to be taking advantage of his break by catching up on some sleep of his own.

  The conditions became increasingly worse once they had turned off the main roads and were trying to follow
the country route to Penny and Simon's school, the gritting-lorries and snow-ploughs unable to deal with these minor roads. Even Cathy's eyes ached from the in­tense concentration she was having to exert to just keep the vehicle on the road.

  And then headlights were blazing directly in front of the car, coming straight towards them, and instinctively Cathy turned the wheel sharply to the left.

  There was a bumping and grinding noise at the same time, and a thud from overhead as snow from the drift they had ploughed into fell on top of the car.

  Cathy was badly shaken for several minutes, breathless, trembling all over. And then she re­alised Dominic hadn't made a sound during or since the accident. She turned slowly to look at him, almost afraid of what she might see.

  She blanched even more as she saw Dominic was unconscious, a trickle of blood coming from one side of his mouth.

  CHAPTER THREE

  OH, GOD, oh, God, let him be all right, Cathy prayed as she desperately tried to rouse Dominic.

  It had taken only seconds to release her own seatbelt, turn and try to get some response from him.

  It was only as she gingerly tried to move him that she realised he also had a lump on his forehead that seemed to be growing larger by the second. And he was still unconscious.

  Oh, God, she had killed him, had caused Dominic's death because she had been too damned stubborn to wake him up and admit she was too strained to drive any more.

  She pulled him against her as she buried her face against his hair. 'Oh, Dominic, I didn't mean to.' She trembled uncontrollably, tears falling unheeded down her cheeks. 'I didn't mean to. Oh, God, what am I going to do? What am I going to do?'

  'I don't like salt,' he murmured gruffly against her.

  Cathy moved back slightly to look down at him wonderingly. 'You're alive!'

  But her elation was short-lived as she re­alised he was also delirious; he had to be. It must be that bang on the head. Lord knew what damage it had done. And they were stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, with not even another car in sight—the idiot who had caused her to swerve in the first place hadn't even stopped to see if they were all right. He either hadn't realised what had happened or else he hadn't cared to stop and find out; either way, he was no help to them.