nodded. ‘Just chill. This place is good at helping the chill factor. Maeve has a lot of support so you won’t be doing it on your own. And Tara is a good midwife.’
Change of subject. Great. ‘Which reminds me. Congratulations on your new daughter-in-law-to-be. I haven’t seen Simon look this happy, ever.’
Angus nodded. Glanced at his son, who had Tara’s hand clasped firmly in his. Tara was laughing up at him. ‘Best Christmas present I could wish for.’ Then he glanced at his own wife and daughters. ‘Finding the right woman is hard but incredibly worth it.’
‘Okay, everyone,’ the woman he was regarding said. ‘Sit.’ He inclined his head at her, gave Rayne a faint smile, and moved away to hold Louisa’s chair, and then his wife’s. He sat at the head of the table and Louisa sat on his left, with Mia on his right.
Simon sat at the other end with Tara next to him and Maeve on the other side. Rayne was in the middle opposite the two little girls, who were giggling at something Simon had said.
After this morning, he wasn’t surprised when the elder of the two girls said grace, and for a fleeting moment he wondered with an inner smile whether, if he had a daughter, he would ever hear her piping little voice bless this table at Christmas. His throat thickened and he drew a quiet breath, and in a reflex he couldn’t control he blocked it all out. Blocked out the tinny Christmas music, the laughing people, the beautiful woman expecting his baby beside him.
Maeve felt the distance grow between her and Rayne and wanted to cry. There had been moments there when he’d seemed to be settling into the day better than she’d expected. Especially when she’d noted his obvious rapport with Louisa, but, then, who didn’t feel that? Louisa was a saint. Even when she’d first arrived and been at her most prickly and morose, Louisa’s gentle, good-natured kindness had won her round before she’d known it.
She’d seen him talking to Angus. Well, since she’d arrived she’d decided Angus was a man’s man, so that wasn’t surprising. Rayne hadn’t really spoken to the girls or Mia since they’d been introduced, but in fairness he hadn’t had much chance. She couldn’t help hoping he would exhibit some signs he was good with children. The guy was a paediatrician, for goodness’ sake. And soon to be a father.
Tara leaned across the table and distracted her by offering the end of a Christmas cracker to pull. ‘I’m not sure how many of these I’m supposed to pull,’ she said in a quiet aside. ‘I just did it with Simon and of course he won. And with Amber and she won. But I want a hat.’
Maeve smiled. ‘You can pull any bon-bon offered. It’s the bon-bon owner’s choice who they want to pull them with. So take any you can.’ Maeve had pulled a lot of bonbons in her time. The two young women had tested their strength against each other, and Tara had been a little more competitive than Maeve had expected, and that made her smile.
Maeve pulled harder and the bon-bon banged and split in half. Tara got the bigger half and the hat and prize. This time Tara crowed as she won. Simon clapped. He didn’t miss much where Tara was concerned, Maeve thought with a pang. She glanced at Rayne. He was watching but his face was impassive and she got the feeling he wasn’t really there.
Not so flattering when she was sitting beside him. ‘Would you like to pull a bonbon with me?’ Darn, did she have to sound so needy?
He blinked. ‘Sorry?’
‘A Christmas cracker.’ She waved the one that was on her plate. ‘See who wins.’
‘Oh. Right. Sure.’
Such enthusiasm, she thought, and realised she was becoming a crotchety old woman by waiting for Rayne to behave like her fantasies.
‘It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’ll pull it with Tara. She loves them.’ She meant it. No problem. Then he surprised her.
‘Oi. I love them, too.’
That was the last thing Maeve had expected him to say. ‘You love bon-bons?’
‘Yeah. Why not?’ His eyes crinkled and she sighed with relief that he was back with her. ‘Not like I had that many family lunches over the years. That Christmas at your place was the first. You made me coconut ice.’
He remembered. The thought expanded in ridiculous warmth. ‘I made everyone coconut ice at Christmas. For years. But it’s very cool that you remembered.’
He held his hand out for the end of her Christmas cracker and she waved it around at him. ‘I want to win.’
They pulled it and Rayne won. ‘Oops,’ he said. ‘Try mine.’ They realigned themselves to pull again and she could tell he tried hard to let her win but the cracker broke the larger end on his side. He got the prizes. Life sucked when you couldn’t even win in a cracker-pull.
‘Can I give it to you?’
‘Not the same.’ Shook her head. Pretended to be miffed.
He raised his brows. ‘But I can’t wear two hats.’
Then she said, ‘Men just don’t understand women.’
Rayne looked at the woman beside him, ‘I’m hearing you.’ He held out the folded hat. She took it reluctantly, opened it out and put it on. He’d given her the red one to match her dress and she looked amazing in a stupid little paper hat. How did she do that? He felt like an idiot in his.
He decided to eat. It seemed they were last to reach for the food again but, then, they’d made inroads into the basket Louisa had sent with them to the lake. He was starting to feel sleepy and he wasn’t sure if it was the fact he’d driven all night, though he’d slept most of yesterday after the flight. Or maybe Louisa’s rum balls were catching up with him. He stifled a yawn.
‘I’m a bitch.’
The piece of roast turkey that was on the way to his mouth halted in mid-air. ‘Sorry?’
‘You’re tired. I’d forgotten you haven’t slept.’
He had to smile at her mood swings. The idea that life would not be boring around Maeve returned with full force.
They ate companionably for a while, he answered a question from Louisa on how the drive had been and gradually relaxed a little more with the company. ‘I’ll snooze later. Isn’t that what everyone does after Christmas lunch? Wash up and then lie around groaning and doze off until teatime?’
‘You’re eating off a paper plate. The washing up’s been done.’ She smiled at him and his belly kicked because he was damned if there wasn’t a hint of promise in that smile. More than a hint.
She bent her head and spoke softly into his ear. ‘Not everyone sleeps.’
Geez. He wasn’t making love with Maeve when Simon’s room was two doors down. Imagine if she went into labour and everybody knew he’d been the one responsible for the induction. His neck felt hot and he couldn’t look at anyone at the table.
‘Rayne?’ She laid her hand on his leg and it was all he could do not to flinch. Since when had he ever been at this much of a loss? The problem was his libido was jumping up and down like a charged icon on a computer.
She yawned ostentatiously and stood up. ‘Happy Christmas, everyone. I think I’ll go put my feet up.’
‘Bye, Maeve.’ From Simon and the girls.
‘Don’t go into labour, Maeve. I’m too full,’ Tara said.
She turned back to Rayne. ‘You coming? I think we need to talk some more.’
His ears felt hot. He needed to get himself back on an even footing here. It seemed she’d turned into a militant dominatrix and while the idea of submitting to sex wasn’t too abhorrent, it didn’t fit with the very late pregnancy visual effect. And he wasn’t enamoured by the smothered smiles of his lunch companions.
‘Sure. I’ll just help Louisa clear the