A Puppy for Christmas. Кэрол Мортимер

confirming an appointment for next week. Roger Tyler hadn’t telephoned back at all, and neither had he answered any of Bree’s calls when she had attempted to inform him that Jackson was no longer available that afternoon. Instead Roger had appeared in person at Beaumont House promptly at two o’clock.

      Tall and dark, probably in his late thirties or early forties, and with a craggily handsome face, Roger Tyler hadn’t seemed too perturbed when Bree had smoothly delivered the excuse that Jackson wasn’t there because he had been called away on business. In fact the other man hadn’t seemed bothered at all—instead he had chatted away quite happily with Bree for over half an hour, culminating in an invitation to dinner that evening.

      Bree could only suppose that the ‘bimbo’ Jackson had referred to earlier hadn’t been willing to reschedule their date for the evening! Whatever the reason for Roger’s invitation, Bree had surprised herself by saying yes.

      She had no idea why.

      No, that wasn’t true; Bree knew exactly why she’d acted so completely out of character by accepting Roger Tyler’s dinner invitation. Because earlier she had realised that today was the one-year anniversary of her wedding that never was. In the circumstances Bree would probably have accepted a dinner invitation from the devil himself as a distraction from those crushing memories! Except the devil she knew hadn’t asked …

      Whenever Bree thought back to a year ago—which she tried to do as seldom as possible—it was never without feeling that same sting of humiliation she had suffered on the day in question. The day that had changed her life.

      Meaning to put up some curtains, Bree had gone to the house she and David had purchased together and had planned to move into after their Paris honeymoon only to discover David was already there. Not just David, but also her married sister Cathy. And, as Bree had discovered painfully, the two of them had been in bed together—in what should have been Bree and David’s marital bed.

      Not only had Bree called off the wedding, but the scandal of David and Cathy’s several-months-long affair had ripped a hole in Bree’s family that still hadn’t completely healed.

      So, yes, Bree knew exactly why she had so impetuously agreed to go out with Roger Tyler this evening. Her acceptance was based not on any attraction Bree might or might not feel towards him, but because she desperately needed a diversion from her feelings of hurt and betrayal. Of inadequacy. Because David had so obviously preferred her older sister to her.

      Feelings like that didn’t seem half so important when a man like Roger Tyler had invited her out to dinner!

      Doubts had begun creeping in after Roger had left Beaumont House—to the point where Bree had spent the afternoon toying with the idea of telephoning him to say that she couldn’t make it this evening after all!

      Jackson’s obvious surprise that she was going out on a date, along with his cynical teasing, had brought about a complete change of heart on her part. Bree no longer cared whether or not Roger Tyler was a man she could trust—she had every intention of going out to dinner with him now. If only to prove to Jackson that she wasn’t the unattractive piece of furniture he obviously believed her to be!

      Her chin rose stubbornly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help out with Danny this evening, Jackson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and get ready.’

      Jackson reached out and placed a hand on Bree’s arm as she turned away.

      ‘What aren’t you telling me …?’ He looked down at her searchingly.

      She laughed lightly, dismissively. ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever had the sort of relationship where we’ve confided about our private lives to each other, Jackson!’

      No, they hadn’t, Jackson acknowledged with a frown. And he had always been grateful for Bree’s silence on the subject before today; he

      couldn’t abide women who wanted to fill you in on every minute detail of their lives. Yes, in the past Jackson had always been glad that Bree kept her own counsel. Until now.

      There was something different about Bree this afternoon. A brittleness. An air of recklessness he had never seen in her before. Almost as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump over—

      What the hell …?

      As Bree had already pointed out, she was a grown woman and could do exactly as she wished in her free time. And if her dinner date this evening meant that Jackson couldn’t go out after all, then that was just too bad. Hell, Bree was as entitled to a social life as he was.

      Except she’d never had one until tonight …

      He gave a tense, irritated shrug. ‘I feel a sense of responsibility for you—’

      ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jackson!’ Bree snapped with irritation. ‘I’m not your daughter!’

      ‘You live in my house …’

      ‘I live in the basement apartment as part of the wages you pay me—not in your house.’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘And if I were a man you wouldn’t be asking me these ridiculous questions!’

      If Bree were a man Jackson wouldn’t have felt that stirring of physical interest in her earlier either!

      ‘Come and play with me, Bree.’

      Jackson had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed Danny joining them until he spoke at his side. Looking down, he saw that his son carried the now-panting puppy in his arms. It had been love at first sight for both of them when Danny had come home from school and rushed into Bree’s office to see his Christmas present from Granny.

      Jackson took great delight in seeing the way his mother cringed every time Danny called her that; only her deep love for the little boy kept her silent on the subject. Jackson found that he could forgive his mother for a lot of things when he saw the genuine love she had for her grandson.

      ‘Bree can’t play right now, Danny, because she has to go and get ready to go out this evening.’ Jackson sank down on his haunches beside his son.

      Danny looked up at Bree with guileless blue eyes. ‘You’re going out?’

      ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Jackson heard her mutter under her breath as she shot him an irritated glance before forcing a smile for Danny. ‘I’ll only be gone for a little while,’ she reassured him lightly.

      ‘Don’t worry, Danny, I’ll wait up and make sure that Bree arrives home safely,’ Jackson drawled smoothly.

      Bree narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary, thank you.’

      ‘No problem,’ he dismissed lightly, straightening up. ‘Be sure and come into the main house to let me know you’re back, won’t you? Otherwise I’ll only worry.’

      Bree wasn’t fooled for a moment by those innocent blue eyes Jackson levelled on her—he was enjoying himself now, damn him. At her expense. And all because she had impulsively accepted a dinner invitation from a man she didn’t even have any real interest in!

      It had all seemed so romantic eighteen months ago, when she and David had decided on a pre-Christmas wedding. An occasion and a time of year that would always have special significance for them both. As it turned out that Christmas had been nothing but a nightmare for Bree, lost in a haze of crying and heartbreak, of family rows and the slamming of doors, until she hadn’t been able to stand it any more and had moved into the anonymity of a hotel in order to escape it all. Which was the very reason she had been so desperate and homeless when she’d come for her interview with Jackson almost a year ago.

      Bree had so wanted it to be different this year, had so wanted to be able to enjoy Christmas again—and had been sure that she could do so with Danny’s help. There was something about children and Christmas that no adult could resist.

      And Bree had almost managed to fool herself—until she had realised earlier that it should have been her first wedding anniversary today. Not