Fiance For Christmas

She glared at him. “It’s not funny!”

Nick sat down and took her hand. “Look, Cassie, just for now play along. Until Max and Julia sort themselves out, at least.”

Cassie eyed him suspiciously, then sighed. “I suppose so.”

He put a finger under her chin. “In the meantime, would you be surprised to know…I do want to kiss you? Most of the time.” His lips settled on hers. When she made no protest he slid his hands into her hair and held her fast, kissing her with an unexpected tenderness that breached her defenses far more than any masterful display of passion.

CATHERINE GEORGE was born in Wales, and early on developed a passion for reading, which eventually fueled her compulsion to write. Marriage to an engineer led to nine years in Brazil, but on his later travels the education of her son and daughter kept her in the U.K. And instead of constant reading to pass her lonely evenings, she began to write the first of her romantic novels. When not writing and reading she loves to cook, listen to opera, browse in antiques shops and walk the Labrador.

Fiance For Christmas

Catherine George

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

CASSIE was good at organisation. And sharing a house was a lot of fun. Most of the time, anyway. But to get the place to herself for once, to entertain a special guest to dinner, had taken only slightly less organisation than the Olympic Games. Now, at last, two of her friends were at that very moment winging their way to a Christmas ski-holiday, and the other two were safely out with their men after swearing a blood oath not to return before the small hours.

Not, of course, that Rupert was certain to stay that long. But he might. In the meantime there were things to be done. Not famed for her cooking skills, Cassie had opted for a visit to the hairdresser instead of attempting the impossible, and lashed out on an extravagant, ready-to-cook meal on the way home. After a swift bath, and twice the usual time spent on her face, she ran down to the large sitting-room to make sure it was immaculate for once. Normally she ate with the others in the kitchen, or from a tray on her knees in front of the television, but tonight, for Rupert, something special was called for. Which meant using the small round table under the window. Cassie eyed it thoughtfully, wondering whether to use her embroidered scarlet cover as a tablecloth, or save it for her bed.

Cassie quickly draped the cover over the table. No male had ever crossed the threshold of her bedroom up to now. Nor been invited to do so. But if by any chance things did progress that far Rupert would hardly take time out to admire the decor. Not, of course, Cassie assured herself, that things would get that far. But with Rupert it just might be different.

As eight o’clock loomed closer Cassie stepped into her dévoré velvet dress and turned the heating up to compensate for brief sleeves and a lot more sheer dark stocking on view than usual. No way could she spoil her splendour with a woolly cardigan and opaque tights. She eyed her reflection, searching, wondering if she’d gone too far over the top. She’d fully intended having her fair curly hair straightened and smoothed out, to look more sophisticated. Instead she’d let the young male hairdresser cajole her into a few strategic gilt highlights before he transformed her mop into a mane of extravagant ringlets. Combined with the skimpy burgundy velvet, the effect was vastly different from Cassandra Lovell, efficient administrative assistant, who wore neat suits to her job at the bank, and brushed her hair into a French pleat.

Cassie put tomato and basil soup in a pan over a low flame, placed salmon in watercress sauce ready in the microwave, and arranged baby vegetables ready to steam over tiny potatoes. Everything, she decided, was as ready as it could be. The only thing missing was the guest of honour. When the doorbell rang, ten minutes earlier than expected, Cassie took a quick look in the mirror over the kitchen sink, then hurried into the hall and switched on the light—with no result. She sighed, made a mental note to put electric lightbulbs on the communal shopping list, then opened the door, smiling in welcome.

‘Where is she?’ demanded the man who pushed past her. Without so much as a glance at her he strode into the sitting-room, his mouth tightening as he eyed the table set for two.

‘Very cosy, Julia,’ he snarled, and spun round to face the girl who stood glaring at him from the doorway.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’ demanded Cassie furiously. ‘Julia doesn’t live here any more.’

If she hadn’t been so angry Cassie would have laughed at the blank astonishment on Dominic Seymour’s face. He was blue with cold under a deep-dyed tan, his black, collar-length hair dishevelled; he was in dire need of a shave, and fatigue dulled brilliant blue eyes rimmed with lashes so black the eyes appeared set in, Irish fashion, with a sooty finger. He wore a raincoat over a crumpled linen suit totally unsuitable for London in December, and he was shivering.

‘Cassandra?’ he said, frowning.

‘That’s me,’ she snapped. ‘And delighted though I am to see you, of course, I must ask you to go. I’m expecting company.’

‘Until I saw you in the light I thought you were Julia. You’ve grown up, Cassie.’

‘Unlike you!’ she retorted. ‘Still chasing after my sister? Can’t you just let her alone?’

The effect of her words were startling. He closed the space between them and seized Cassie ungently by her bare elbows. ‘I wasn’t chasing after Julia. I’m looking for Alice. Is she in bed?’

Cassie stared at him incredulously. ‘Alice? No, of course not. I haven’t seen her since I took her out from school for the day three weeks ago—’ She stopped, biting her lip, and Nick’s hands fell away as he stood back.

‘It’s all right. I know you see her from time to time,’ he said quickly.

‘Good,’ she said defiantly, and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Julia’s the one forbidden to see her. Not me. Nor my mother.’

The blue eyes softened for an instant, then blazed again with anxiety. ‘But hell, Cassie, if Alice isn’t here, where is she?’

‘I don’t know,’ she retorted, troubled. ‘I thought Max was collecting her today for the Christmas holidays.’

‘That was the plan,’ he returned grimly. ‘I’ve just got in from Riyadh to find my celebrated brother isn’t back from New Guinea.’

Cassie gazed at him in horror. ‘But what about Alice? She’s eight years old, for heaven’s sake. Surely he arranged some emergency plan—’

‘He did. Don’t panic,’ said Nick swiftly. ‘The minute I got back I contacted my answering service. There was a message from the school to say some people called Cartwright were taking her home with them.’

‘Laura Cartwright’s her best friend,’ said Cassie in relief. ‘If they’ve got her she’s fine.’

‘The school gave me their number, but there was no answer. If Alice is with these Cartwright people, surely someone should be there at this time of night?’

‘You’d think so certainly,’ agreed Cassie, worried, then her eyes flashed. ‘Which doesn’t explain why you came storming round here. Though I can guess!’

‘Alice left this number with my service for emergencies, so I assumed these Cartwright people had brought her here.’

‘An address you once knew very well, of course,’ snapped Cassie. ‘Sorry to disappoint you but I took over Julia’s share of the house—but never mind all that. Try the Cartwrights’ number again.’

Nick raised a hostile eyebrow at her tone, but after a quick look in his diary punched in the Cartwrights’ number on his cellphone. With no result. ‘I don’t like this,’ he said grimly.

‘Neither do I!’

They stared at each other in worried silence, then Nick heaved a ragged sigh. ‘Look, could I have a wash, please? I slept in fits and starts on the flight back. My head’s full of cotton wool. Perhaps if I freshen up I can think up something constructive.’

‘Of course. Upstairs, first on the right.’

Cassie went into the kitchen to switch off the heat under the soup, trying not to panic. She was fond of young Alice, and could have wrung Max Seymour’s neck for not getting home on time to pick his little daughter up for the Christmas holidays. When the front doorbell rang again, dead on time, Cassie sighed despairingly. She’d spent so much time and effort on this one evening, and now all she could think about was Alice. She opened the door in the dark hall and Rupert Ashcroft, resplendent in formal suit, fair hair gleaming under the streetlamp, handed her a large bouquet of flowers.

‘Hello, Cassie, these are for you.’

‘How lovely, Rupert, thank you. Do come in. Go on into the sitting-room; I’ll just put these in water.’ When she joined him Rupert was surveying his surroundings with obvious satisfaction, taking in the table set for two with candles and flowers.

‘This all looks very inviting, Cassie—’ he began as he turned to her, then stopped, staring, transfixed. The Medusa-style ringlets, she thought, resigned, had a lot to answer for. One look at her and men turned to stone.

‘Cassie!’ said Rupert huskily, coming to life. ‘You look sensational!’ He moved closer, his smile altering subtly as his eyes roved over her in a way which made her suddenly very conscious of bare arms and generous display of legs.

She smiled warily. ‘Actually, I’m afraid I’m a bit behind with dinner—’ The rest of her explanation was cut off as Rupert took her in his arms and kissed her with an enthusiasm which hinted that her transformation had ignited him with an appetite for rather more than just dinner.

‘I can’t believe it,’ he said huskily, holding her tightly as Cassie tried to wriggle away. ‘Miss Efficient by day and Miss Sexpot at night—’

‘Am I intruding?’ enquired a voice from the doorway.

If an archangel with a flaming sword had appeared in Cassie’s sitting-room her guest could hardly have been less dumbfounded. Rupert let her go so promptly she staggered as the tall, hostile intruder came forward with outstretched hand.

‘Dominic Seymour.’

Rupert took the hand reluctantly, muttered his name, and cast an accusing look at Cassie.

‘Nick just flew in from the Middle East—he’s a civil engineer,’ she explained hurriedly, and turned to Nick. ‘I provide administrative assistance to the team Rupert works with.’

‘Team?’ he queried, as though Rupert played for some amateur soccer club.

‘I’m an analyst with an investment bank,’ said Rupert, bristling.

Cassie gave him a cajoling smile. ‘Look, Rupert, sit down and make yourself at home. Help yourself to a drink from the tray over there while I talk to Nick for a moment. He’s my sister’s brother-in-law,’ she added. ‘There’s a family emergency.’

The information seemed to appease Rupert slightly, and Cassie smiled at him again, then went off to the kitchen with Nick and closed the door behind them.

‘Ring the Cartwright number again,’ she said urgently.

This time someone answered, but as Cassie listened to the brief, one-sided conversation her heart sank.

Nick’s face was haggard as he rang off. ‘That was the Cartwrights’ teenage son. His parents are out, but he was quite definite that his mother had delivered Alice to Max’s place in Chiswick first, before bringing his sister home.’

‘Surely Mrs Cartwright wouldn’t have left Alice in a deserted house?’ said Cassie, getting more worried by the minute.

‘I bloody well hope not!’ said Nick savagely, and began punching buttons on his phone again. He listened for a few moments, then switched off the phone. ‘No response from Max’s place,’ he said tightly. ‘I’m going round there.’

At the thought of Alice, alone and frightened in Max Seymour’s house, Cassie’s enthusiasm for a cosy dinner for two vanished completely. ‘I’ll make my excuses to Rupert and come with you.’

‘You will not!’ he objected. ‘I’m Alice’s blood relative. I’ll do what’s necessary.’

‘And leave me here, wondering what’s happened to her?’ retorted Cassie angrily. ‘I’m very fond of Alice. I may not be related, but who actually turns up for Sports Day and exeats from school, Dominic Seymour? My mother, or me, now Max won’t let Julia near Alice. When Daddy and Uncle Nick are on the other side of the world the poor little thing’s a bit short of blood relatives when it matters, isn’t she?’

They were standing close, her dark eyes spitting flame into the angry blue ones locked with hers.

‘Am I intruding?’ said a sarcastic voice from the doorway, and both combatants spun round to face Rupert, staring at him blankly.

Cassie pulled herself together. ‘Rupert, I’m so sorry about this. The reason Nick is here is Alice, his eight-year-old niece. She’s missing, and we’re worried to death about her.’

Rupert’s face altered dramatically. ‘Oh, I say. I’m frightfully sorry. Is there anything I can do?’

‘No,’ said Nick curtly. ‘Thanks anyway. I’m just off to look for her.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ said Cassie firmly. She looked at Rupert in appeal. ‘I hate to do this, but would you mind terribly if we postponed dinner to another time? If—when—we find Alice, she’ll need me.’

Rupert Ashcroft controlled an involuntary look of dismay, duly insisted he didn’t mind at all under the circumstances, and even managed a smile. ‘I’ll take myself off, then, Cassie, and look forward to doing this some other time soon. Please ring me and let me know what happens.’

She nodded gratefully, saw him to the door and reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘Thanks for being so understanding, Rupert. See you Monday.’

He kissed her mouth very deliberately, ignoring the stony blue eyes watching the procedure, then went off to the gleaming Range Rover parked a little way down the road.

Cassie closed the door and raced past Nick in the hall. ‘Give me five minutes to change and I’ll be with you.’

‘There’s absolutely no need for you to come,’ he snapped irritably, but Cassie shook her head as she ran upstairs.

‘I’m coming, and that’s that. If you won’t drive me I’ll call a cab.’

Cassie heard Nick swear under his breath, but he was still there when she ran down again in jeans and a sweater, her ringlets tied up with a shoelace. She reached for a long dark overcoat from the assortment on the hall pegs, slung her bag over her shoulder and looked at the waiting man impatiently.

‘Come on, then.’

Nick Seymour’s car, like Rupert’s, was an all-wheel drive, a fairly new Subaru estate. But, unlike the gleaming Range Rover, it was splashed with mud and obviously covered a lot more territory than a few miles along city streets.

Nick drove rapidly, in complete silence, for which Cassie was thankful. With thoughts of Alice alone and frightened uppermost in both minds, and mutual hostility latent beneath the surface all the time, polite conversation was impossible.

When they parked in a road lined with large, private homes, Cassie’s spirits rose as she saw a light in one of the ground-floor rooms in Max’s house.

Nick rang the bell, and kept his finger on it, but there was no response.

‘There must be someone there,’ said Cassie urgently. ‘The light’s on.’

‘Automatic for security, like the outside lights,’ said Nick briefly. He shivered in the icy wind as he bent to peer through the brass letterbox. ‘Alice!’ he called. ‘It’s Uncle Nick. Are you there, darling?’ He turned to Cassie. ‘You call. Perhaps a woman’s voice will be more reassuring.’

Cassie bent at once, holding the flap open to shout through it. ‘Alice, it’s Cassie. Don’t be frightened.’ After calling a few times more, she straightened and turned to Nick. ‘No use. Haven’t you got a key?’

‘Of course I haven’t,’ he snapped.

‘It was just a thought.’ Cassie hugged her arms across her chest. ‘So what now?’

‘I’m going to the police. Shall I take you home first?’

‘Not on your life!’ she flashed at him. ‘I’m coming with you—’ She halted suddenly. ‘I’ve just thought of something.’

‘What?’

‘Julia.’

‘What about her?’

‘She might still have a key.’

Nick rubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘She was the first one I thought of when I couldn’t track Alice down. That’s why I came round to your place.’

‘I knew you didn’t come to see me!’

‘Look,’ he said angrily, ‘I may not be your favourite person, Cassandra Lovell, but believe me, I’m genuinely worried about Alice.’

‘I do believe you,’ she assured him. ‘And I’m just as worried as you are. But if you’re thinking that Julia’s got her, you’re wrong. Max doesn’t allow her to see Alice, remember.’

‘I’m hardly likely to forget!’ he retorted, and turned up the collar of his raincoat. ‘In the meantime we’re freezing out here. Let’s get in the car.’

‘We’d better drive over to Julia’s, just in case,’ said Cassie reluctantly, as Nick started the car.

‘In case she has a key, or in case she has Alice?’

‘A key!’ she said indignantly. ‘It’s best to make sure Alice isn’t right here at home before dashing off to the police.’

Julia Lovell Seymour lived in the ground-floor flat of a small terraced house in Acton.

‘We should have rung first,’ said Cassie tersely as she pressed the buzzer.

‘She would never have let me through the door,’ said Nick grimly.

‘Do you blame her?’ said Cassie scornfully, then listened as her sister’s voice answered warily. ‘It’s only me, Julia.’

‘Cassie? I thought you had a heavy date tonight.’

‘It fell through. Let me in, please.’

Cassie went into the house ahead of Nick, who stopped dead in his tracks as Julia came towards them like an avenging fury.

‘What in the world are you doing here, Dominic Seymour?’ Julia demanded in a fierce undertone. ‘Be quiet,’ she added, ‘or you’ll wake her.’ She beckoned them into a small kitchen and closed the door behind them, turning on her sister angrily. ‘Now then, Cassie, what are you playing at?’

‘She’s asleep?’ said Nick eagerly.

Julia gave him a hostile look. She wore an unflattering navy dressing gown, and under the harsh striplight her violet eyes were deeply shadowed, her face tired and pale under gleaming hair the exact shade of the gilt streaks in Cassie’s.

‘Why did you tell him, Cassie?’ she said accusingly.

‘Tell me what?’ demanded Nick.

‘I didn’t tell him anything, Julia,’ said Cassie quickly. ‘We’ve come about Alice.’

‘Alice?’ Julia’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘What’s the matter? Is something wrong?’

‘She’s not here, then,’ said Nick in despair, suddenly haggard as the colour drained from his face, leaving it sallow beneath the tan.

‘Of course she isn’t!’ said Julia hotly. ‘Your brother won’t let me near her—but never mind that, what’s happened?’

Her pallor increased as she listened to Cassie’s terse explanation.

‘You mean Max is stuck in some jungle somewhere instead of taking care of his daughter?’ She gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘And I’m the one who’s deemed not fit to look after her!’ Her face crumpled suddenly, and she clutched at Cassie. ‘Surely there’s been some mistake?’

‘We came to see if you still had a key to the house,’ said Nick with constraint.

Julia rounded on him, eyes flashing through sudden tears. ‘To see if I’d stolen Alice, you mean!’

He shook his head vehemently. ‘Not stolen, Julia. I hoped to God you did have her.’

‘But I don’t, I don’t—’ Julia snatched a tissue from a box and wiped her eyes. ‘Although, unknown to Max, I do still have a key. After I locked myself out of the house in Chiswick once I had a spare made.’

‘We thought there might be messages on Max’s machine,’ said Cassie, wanting badly to cuddle her sister, but knowing Julia wouldn’t appreciate it in front of her tense brother-in-law. And Dominic Seymour was very obviously having difficulty in reconciling this pale, weary woman with the Julia he’d last seen as his brother’s glamorous, beautiful wife in surroundings far removed from these.

Julia searched her handbag and produced a Yale key. ‘I wish I could come with you to see if Alice is all right,’ she said anxiously, as she handed it to Nick. ‘But under the circumstances—’ She looked up as a cry came from a distance.

‘Let me,’ said Cassie eagerly, and Julia hesitated, then nodded, resigned.

Cassie left Nick and Julia, eyeing each other like boxers shaping up for a fight, and went along the hall to a bedroom where a nightlight showed a little figure standing up in a cot. When the child caught sight of Cassie she smiled widely and held up her arms.

‘Hello, Cassie! Where Mummy?’

Cassie scooped up the little body, caught up a blanket and wrapped her in it and cuddled her close. ‘Hi, Emily. How’s my gorgeous girl?’

The child chuckled, her face bright with a victorious smile as Cassie bore her off to the kitchen to meet Dominic Seymour.

‘I see you were putty in her hands as usual,’ said Julia dryly, and gazed at Nick with defiant eyes. ‘I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter, Nick. This is Emily.’

Nick stared at the child wildly, then at Julia and Cassie. ‘No one told me.’

‘Why should they?’ said Cassie, nuzzling her niece’s feathery curls.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Nick blankly. ‘If you were expecting his child why in hell did Max break up with you, Julia?’

‘He thought she was yours,’ she said without emotion.

‘Mine?’ Nick stared from Julia’s beautiful, haggard face to the smooth, rosy cheeks of the little girl. ‘Has he ever seen her?’

‘Of course not,’ said Cassie scornfully.

‘Max must be mad. The nearest I ever got to Julia was to put an arm round her shoulders once. And we all know what happened after that,’ said Nick grimly, then his eyes softened as the child eyed him curiously. ‘But just look at her! She’s the image of Max—a lot like Alice, in fact.’ His eyes darkened. ‘And Alice is missing.’

‘Right, let’s be on our way.’ Cassie gave Emily a kiss and returned her to her mother. ‘Thanks for the key, Julia.’

‘Ring me as soon as you find out anything,’ ordered Julia urgently, hugging her small daughter so tightly Emily protested a little.

‘I will,’ promised Cassie. ‘Night-night, Emily. See you tomorrow.’

Emily flapped her hand, beaming. ‘Ni-night, Cassie.’ She turned large green eyes on Nick. ‘Bye-bye.’

Nick waved back automatically, his eyes riveted on the child’s face, then thanked Julia and said goodbye.

The moment they were back in the car he began demanding explanations. ‘Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me?’ he said eventually. ‘When my brother deigns to put in an appearance I’ll tell him a few home truths, the stupid idiot.’

Cassie let out a screech, clutching at the door handle as they hurtled round a corner. ‘Slow down, or you’ll get the police after you. Anyway, when Max came home and caught you with Julia—’

‘It wasn’t like that!’

‘Whatever you were doing, Max couldn’t take it. After he threw you out he went berserk when Julia told him she was pregnant, and utterly refused to believe the child was his. He told Julia the marriage was over and she couldn’t see Alice again. Which,’ added Cassie with passion, ‘was cruel. Julia had been Alice’s stepmother for only a year, it’s true, but she’d been working in the house for a long time before that as his secretary. They adored each other. The poor little thing was only six years old. It hurt Julia horribly.’ She gave Nick a straight look. ‘It didn’t do Alice much good either. And now we haven’t a clue where Alice is, and your brother is too busy with some prehistoric tribe to come home to his daughter, let alone care that he has another one he’s never seen.’