SNOWED IN WITH THE BILLIONAIRE by Caroline Anderson

her palm, and under her fingers his jaw
clenched, the muscle twitching.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I know it wasn’t just you. I know I
wasn’t easy to live with. I’m not. But—we have to do Christmas for Josh, and I
really want to do it right, and I know I said we wouldn’t talk about it and I
just broke the rule. Can we start again?’
    She dropped her hand. ‘Start what again?’
    He was silent for long moments, then his mouth flickered into a
smile filled with remorse and tenderness and pain. ‘Christmas. Nothing else. I
know you don’t want more than that.’
    Didn’t she? Suddenly she wasn’t so sure, but then it wasn’t
what he was offering, so she nodded and stepped back a little and tried to
smile.
    ‘OK. No more snide remarks, no more cheap shots, no more
bickering. And maybe a bit more respect for who we are and where we are
now?’
    He nodded slowly. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said gruffly, and he
smiled again, that same sad smile that brought a lump to her throat and made her
hurt inside.
    How long they would have stood there she had no idea, but there
was a crash from the kitchen and she fled, her heart in her mouth.
    She found Josh on the floor looking stunned, a biscuit in his
hand, the wire rack teetering on the edge of the worktop and a chair lying on
its side, and guilt flooded her yet again.
    ‘Is he all right?’
    ‘I think so.’ She gathered him up, and he clung to her like a
little monkey, arms and legs wrapping round her as he burrowed into her shoulder
and sobbed. ‘I think he’s probably just frightened himself.’
    And her. And Sebastian, judging by the look on his face.
    He reached out a hand and laid it gently on Josh’s back. ‘Are
you OK, little guy? You’re really in the wars today, aren’t you?’
    ‘I’ve told him so many times not to climb on chairs.’
    ‘He’s a boy. They climb. I was covered in bruises from falling
off or out of things until I was about seventeen. Then I started driving.’
    She gave him a dry look. ‘Thanks. It’s really good to know
what’s in store.’
    He smiled at her over her son’s head, and this time it was a
real smile. His soft chuckle filled the kitchen, warming her, and she sat down
on the righted chair and hugged Josh and examined him for bumps and bruises and
odd-shaped limbs.
    Just a fright, she concluded, and a little egg on the side of
his head, but that could have been from standing up under the desk.
    ‘Tea?’ Sebastian offered, and she nodded.
    ‘Tea sounds like a good idea. Thank you.’
    ‘Universal panacea, isn’t it? When all else fails, make
tea.’
    He put the kettle on and went back to his study to bring his
mug and the uneaten biscuit, pausing for a moment to take a few deep breaths and
slow his heart rate. He’d had no idea what they’d find, and the relief that Josh
seemed to be OK was enormous.
    Crazily enormous. Hell, the little kid was getting right under
his skin—
    He strode briskly back to the kitchen, stood his mug on the
side of the Aga so it didn’t cool any more and made her a fresh mug.
    ‘How is he?’
    ‘He’s fine, aren’t you, Josh? It’s probably time he had a nap.
I usually put him down after lunch for a little while. I might go up with him
and read for a bit while he sleeps.’
    He frowned as he analysed an unfamiliar emotion. Disappointment? Really? What was the matter with
him?
    ‘Good idea. I’ll get on with my work, and then we’ll decorate
the tree later.’
    * * *
    ‘Mistletoe?’
    He’d cut mistletoe, of all the things! Like that was really going to help—
    ‘I know, I know,’ he sighed shortly, ‘but it is Christmassy,
and everything else was out of reach or too tough, and I could cut it with
scissors, and I have no idea where the secateurs might be. I made sure it didn’t
have berries on, either, in case Josh should try and eat them, because they’re
poisonous. But there is one bit of holly—for the Christmas pudding.’
    She tipped her head on one