Read Online Merry Christmas (Mills & Boon Vintage 90s Modern) by Emma Darcy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emma Darcy
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deep discontent. She didn’t like the story left dangling in no man’s land.
“But you’re so beautiful, Merry!” she protested. “I don’t see how he could forget you.”
Nick saw the flicker of pain on Meredith Palmer’s face and suffered a wave of guilt for having encouraged this line of questioning. Of course she would feel obliged to answer Kimberly, wanting her daughter’s sympathy and probably frightened of condemnation. But on their part, shouldn’t curiosity take second place to compassion? God only knew how rough a time she’d been through. They should let the past rest and get on with the present.
And the future.
He quickly inserted, “There could have been other reasons why your real father never came back, Kimberly. Since none of us know, let’s leave it at that, shall we? I’m sure Miss Palmer would like to talk of happier things.”
“Oh!” Kimberly squirmed as her mind flashed through other scenarios, probably remembering last year’s fatal car accident. “Uncle Nick said you run a florist business,” she said in a gush of relief at having seized on a less sensitive subject. “What’s your favourite flower?”
Flower Power provided bright conversation. Nick sat back and let it flow, discreetly observing the fascinating play of expression on Meredith Palmer’s face, the eloquent body language encompassing the listening tilt of her head, the graceful hand gestures, the concentrated interest, the warm inviting smiles. Her whole being was reaching out to her child with every breath she took, every word she spoke.
Kimberly was entranced.
Nick wondered what it would be like to have all her passionate intensity focused on him. He fought a constant battle against a tightening in his loins. Desiring a woman so much on such little acquaintance was a new experience and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Being in control was second nature to him. Around this woman, the laws of nature didn’t seem to apply.
Again he was tantalised by the question of how her image had been branded on his subconscious and why it emerged in his dreams. She was beautiful, though it was more the power behind the beauty that teased Nick’s mind. Kimberly had a point in blurting out, I don’t see how he could forget you! On no acquaintance at all, Nick had found Meredith Palmer so unforgettable she haunted his dreams! Any way he looked at it, that teetered on the supernatural.
He was glad when lunch arrived. Eating was an ordinary human habit. Not that she ate much. Nick forced himself to consume everything on his plate and the lion’s share of the salad, as well. It proved, at least to all outward appearances, he was handling everything with ease.
Occasionally Kimberly called on him to comment on some point of the conversation but Meredith Palmer never once tried to draw him into it. He sensed she was wary of him, guarded, perhaps overconscious of his power to call a halt to this meeting and take Kimberly away from her. Or was she as acutely aware of him as he was of her, and hiding it in case it created a problem in future meetings with her daughter?
He was still speculating on this possibility when Kimberly turned to him, her face transparently eager as she asked, “Uncle Nick, is it all right for Merry to come over to the apartment tomorrow? I could show her all my stuff.”
“Would you like to, Miss Palmer?” he asked, wanting to make her look at him full-on again. For the past hour he’d received no more than brief, courteous glances, frustrating his need to know if he was right about a mutual attraction.
Her eyes met his and his stomach contracted. Hope burned in their luminous green depths, an anguished hope that begged more from him than a casual invitation. “Yes,” she said simply. Then as though belatedly recognising it might be an imposition on his generosity, she flushed and added, “If it won’t inconvenience you, Mr. Hamilton.”
“You’re welcome.” It was the truth. On more levels
“But you’re so beautiful, Merry!” she protested. “I don’t see how he could forget you.”
Nick saw the flicker of pain on Meredith Palmer’s face and suffered a wave of guilt for having encouraged this line of questioning. Of course she would feel obliged to answer Kimberly, wanting her daughter’s sympathy and probably frightened of condemnation. But on their part, shouldn’t curiosity take second place to compassion? God only knew how rough a time she’d been through. They should let the past rest and get on with the present.
And the future.
He quickly inserted, “There could have been other reasons why your real father never came back, Kimberly. Since none of us know, let’s leave it at that, shall we? I’m sure Miss Palmer would like to talk of happier things.”
“Oh!” Kimberly squirmed as her mind flashed through other scenarios, probably remembering last year’s fatal car accident. “Uncle Nick said you run a florist business,” she said in a gush of relief at having seized on a less sensitive subject. “What’s your favourite flower?”
Flower Power provided bright conversation. Nick sat back and let it flow, discreetly observing the fascinating play of expression on Meredith Palmer’s face, the eloquent body language encompassing the listening tilt of her head, the graceful hand gestures, the concentrated interest, the warm inviting smiles. Her whole being was reaching out to her child with every breath she took, every word she spoke.
Kimberly was entranced.
Nick wondered what it would be like to have all her passionate intensity focused on him. He fought a constant battle against a tightening in his loins. Desiring a woman so much on such little acquaintance was a new experience and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Being in control was second nature to him. Around this woman, the laws of nature didn’t seem to apply.
Again he was tantalised by the question of how her image had been branded on his subconscious and why it emerged in his dreams. She was beautiful, though it was more the power behind the beauty that teased Nick’s mind. Kimberly had a point in blurting out, I don’t see how he could forget you! On no acquaintance at all, Nick had found Meredith Palmer so unforgettable she haunted his dreams! Any way he looked at it, that teetered on the supernatural.
He was glad when lunch arrived. Eating was an ordinary human habit. Not that she ate much. Nick forced himself to consume everything on his plate and the lion’s share of the salad, as well. It proved, at least to all outward appearances, he was handling everything with ease.
Occasionally Kimberly called on him to comment on some point of the conversation but Meredith Palmer never once tried to draw him into it. He sensed she was wary of him, guarded, perhaps overconscious of his power to call a halt to this meeting and take Kimberly away from her. Or was she as acutely aware of him as he was of her, and hiding it in case it created a problem in future meetings with her daughter?
He was still speculating on this possibility when Kimberly turned to him, her face transparently eager as she asked, “Uncle Nick, is it all right for Merry to come over to the apartment tomorrow? I could show her all my stuff.”
“Would you like to, Miss Palmer?” he asked, wanting to make her look at him full-on again. For the past hour he’d received no more than brief, courteous glances, frustrating his need to know if he was right about a mutual attraction.
Her eyes met his and his stomach contracted. Hope burned in their luminous green depths, an anguished hope that begged more from him than a casual invitation. “Yes,” she said simply. Then as though belatedly recognising it might be an imposition on his generosity, she flushed and added, “If it won’t inconvenience you, Mr. Hamilton.”
“You’re welcome.” It was the truth. On more levels
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