SNOWED IN WITH THE BILLIONAIRE by Caroline Anderson Page B

I rather like all the home-made things,’ he said after a moment, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.
    ‘Especially the gingerbread trees and stars,’ she said, trying to lighten the moment. ‘And don’t think I haven’t noticed that every time you “accidentally” bump into the tree another one breaks so you get to eat it. Between you and Josh there are hardly any left.’
    He grinned. ‘I don’t know what you mean. And if we’re running out, it’s your fault. I told you to make plenty.’
    She rolled her eyes and rested her head back against the sofa cushions with a lazy groan. ‘This is really comfortable,’ she mumbled.
    ‘It is. I love this room. I think it’s probably my favourite room in the whole house.’
    Because they’d never made any plans for it? Maybe, she thought, considering it. Or had they? Hadn’t there been some mention of it being a playroom for all the hordes of children? But they hadn’t spent any significant time in it. Not like the bedroom. Maybe that made the difference.
    Or maybe he just liked it.
    She rolled her head towards him and changed the subject.
    ‘So, what’s the programme for tomorrow? Since you have such strong opinions on how it should be done...’
    Another grin flashed across his face. ‘Cheeky.’ He hitched his leg up, resting his arm on the back of the sofa and propping his head on his hand so he was facing her, thoughtful now.
    ‘I think that probably depends on you and Josh. What are you going to do about presents for him? Are you going to wait until you’re with your parents?’
    ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. He was really excited about the tree and he knows there will be presents under it because they had them at nursery, so I think there probably should be something for him to find tomorrow, otherwise it might be a bit of an anti-climax.’
    ‘You don’t think it will anyway, with just us and a few presents instead of a big family affair? Wouldn’t you rather wait?’
    ‘Do you think I should?’
    He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s up to you, but it makes me feel a bit awkward because there isn’t one from me, and it’ll look as if I don’t care and I’d hate him to think that, but obviously I haven’t got anything to give him. Either of you.’
    She stared at him, unbearably touched that he should feel so strongly about it—and so wrongly. She reached out a hand to him, grasping his and squeezing it.
    ‘Oh, Sebastian. You’re giving us Christmas! How much more could we possibly ask? You’ve opened your home to us, let us create absolute havoc in it, we’ve taken it over completely so you haven’t even been able to work, and—well, frankly, without you we might not even be alive for it, so I really don’t think you need to worry about some gaudy plastic toy wrapped up and stuck under the tree! In the grand scheme of things, what you’ve given him—given us—is immeasurable, and whatever else is going on between us, I’ll never forget that.’
    Sebastian frowned again—he was doing that a lot—and turned away, his jaw working.
    ‘He’s just a kid, George,’ he said gruffly.
    ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘And for some reason that really seems to get to you.’
    He shrugged and eased his hand away, as if the contact made him uncomfortable. ‘I don’t like to think of kids being unhappy at Christmas. Or ever. Any time. And as I’ve said, I’ve got nothing else to do and nowhere else to be. So—presents, or not presents?’
    She thought about it for a moment. Her parents had spoiled him on his birthday just four weeks ago, and he’d had so many presents he hadn’t really known what to play with first. And there was nothing here in the house, really, that he could play with safely.
    And then she had an idea that would solve it all. ‘I think—presents? Or some of them, at least. I’ve got him a wooden train set, and it comes in two boxes. There’s the main set, and there are some little people and