friends do?’
‘Yes, but we’re not friends, Dan,’ Stella said softly. ‘We haven’t been in touch for two years and I think we both know that was the right decision.’ Staying in touch would have been like squeezing lemon juice onto an open wound.
‘You don’t seem to have any problems being friends with my brother.’
‘Patrick and I have only ever been friends.’
‘Whereas you and I were lovers.’
His husky, sexy voice sent a white hot arc of sexual heat shooting through her body and Stella felt everything inside her melt. ‘It’s in the past, Dan.’ She stepped back, rejecting the fiery chemistry and her body’s instinctive response. ‘It’s not going to give us a problem.’ Picking up the equipment she’d come to fetch, she walked back towards the door. ‘We’re colleagues, that’s all.’
‘So you can work side by side with me and not feel anything.’
‘That’s right.’ The lie came easily, but they were wasted words because both of them knew the truth. ‘We want different things.’ It seemed like a good idea to remind them both of that fact.
‘Are you going to marry him?’
Stella opened the door. ‘I don’t know.’ That was true, she reasoned. She didn’t know. ‘And I don’t understand why you would even care.’
‘Are you having sex with him?’
‘For goodness’ sake, Dan!’ With a gasp, she pushed the door closed again, hoping that none of her colleagues had been walking along the corridor at that point. ‘What business is that of yours?’ Her eyes clashed with the burning fire of his and, for a moment, he didn’t reply.
Then he drew in an uneven breath. ‘None,’ he said hoarsely, running his undamaged hand through his hair like a man on the edge. ‘None at all. And if you are—well, I’m fine with it. That’s fine.’
Desperately unsettled, Stella held his gaze, not understanding what was going on in his head. They hadn’t spoken to each other for two years. He was seeing someone else. There was no reason for him to react with anything other than indifference.
Except that their relationship had been so hot and intense that it had left scorch marks on both of them.
‘I’m glad you’re fine with it,’ she said shakily, ‘because who I date is none of your business. Just as who you date is none of mine.’ Deciding that she’d never understand men, Stella left the room before she said something she knew she’d regret.
‘So you’ve never met this person? How do you know he’s nice?’ Alfie was kneeling on a chair in the stable, watching Stella as she tapped away at the computer. One of the kittens was snuggled on his lap.
‘We’ve been writing to each other.’
‘By email?’ Alfie looked knowledgeable. ‘I have my own email address at school.’
‘Really? That’s impressive. I certainly didn’t know how to email when I was ten years old.’ Stella scrolled through her latest message, scanning the contents. ‘He wants to meet me, Alfie. What do you think?’
‘Let’s ask Mary.’ He lifted the tiny kitten. ‘What do we think, Mary?’
‘You called the kitten Mary?’
‘It’s Christmas. The two I’m keeping are Mary and Joseph. They’re the marmalade ones.’ He kissed the kitten on the head and rubbed his cheek over the animal’s fur. ‘It isn’t safe to meet a stranger. My teacher says you should never give anyone your real name or address over the internet.’
‘Your teacher is right. You shouldn’t.’ Stella typed her reply. ‘And I haven’t given any personal details apart from my name. He wants to meet me in a pub.’
Alfie stroked the kitten. ‘What if you meet him and he’s, like, really yucky?’
‘Well.’ Stella didn’t reveal that she’d been wondering that exact thing herself. ‘I hope he won’t be. We’ve already talked about the things we like and don’t like. So we have a feel for whether we’re going to get on.’
‘You mean you tell him you like computer games and he tells you he likes playing with Lego?’
‘Something like that.’
‘What if he’s lying just so that you’ll be friends with him?’
Stella lifted her hand and ruffled his hair. ‘Smart, aren’t you?’
‘Not really. Harry Trent did that to me,’ Alfie grumbled. ‘He said he loved Lego, so I invited him to my house for a sleepover but when he got here he just wanted to nose around. And he kept asking questions about how much money Dad has. He wasn’t interested in Lego.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Stella said softly. ‘And if this guy is lying to me, I won’t see him again.’
‘Why can’t you just meet someone normally? It’s going to be really weird going out with someone you’ve never met.’
‘Sometimes it’s hard meeting someone “normally”.’ Stella stroked the kitten gently. ‘We lead busy lives and the chances of just bumping into someone you want to spend the rest of your life with are pretty remote.’
‘Why can’t you just be with Uncle Dan? You were going to marry him. Two Christmases ago you sat on my bed and read me that story and you showed me the ring Uncle Dan had given you.’
Remembering how quickly her best Christmas had turned into her worst Christmas, Stella bit her lip. ‘We managed to have fun that Christmas despite everything, didn’t we?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Alfie shrugged, more adult than child. ‘It was hard at first, when Mum left. Christmas was the final straw for her. She was screaming and yelling like she’d gone mad. At first I thought it was my fault for opening one of my presents early, but Dad told me it was his fault for going to deliver those triplets on Christmas Eve when Mum had dinner on the table.’
‘I remember the triplets. Your dad saved their lives.’
‘I know. He’s cool. But Mum didn’t think so. She hated his job. And she hated Christmas.’ Alfie looked puzzled. ‘I don’t get that, do you? How can anyone hate Christmas? Dad says it stressed her out.’
Finding it hard to feel sympathy for a woman who could leave her children on Christmas Eve, Stella leaned forward and hugged him tightly. ‘Alfie …’ she discovered that she had a huge lump in her throat ‘… this Christmas is going to be the best ever. I promise. And no one is going to be stressed out.’
‘If Dad has to cook a turkey, he’ll be stressed out,’ Alfie predicted, with insight beyond his years. ‘And I’ll probably be stressed out if I have to eat it. Dad is better at delivering triplets than cooking. He needs lessons. He’s going to advertise for someone who wants a kitten. Do you think I could advertise for someone to come and cook Christmas lunch?’
‘You don’t need to advertise. I’ll give him a lesson,’ Stella promised, kissing him on the forehead and then pulling a face. ‘Sorry—are you too old to be kissed?’
‘I don’t mind it,’ Alfie said generously, ‘as long as you don’t do it in front of my friends.’
‘I’ll remember that.’ Stella shut down her computer. ‘Have you made your Christmas list?’
‘Yes. And I’ve posted it up the chimney.’
Stella looked at him, unsure whether he still believed in Father Christmas. ‘And did he pick it up?’
‘It wasn’t there when I looked so, yes, I guess so.’ He picked up the tiny kitten and kissed it. ‘I hope no one wants the kittens. Then we’ll have to keep all of them.’