A Christmas Affair. Carole Mortimer

yet she could see she had offended Dominic by her scepticism, and she wished there were some way she could undo her surprise at his assumption. It was the first time she had ever heard Dominic presume such a friendship existed between them, and now it looked as if she was throwing it back in his face!

      ‘I've always hoped we were,’ she returned non-committally.

      But she had always believed that friends confided things to each other, and other than what she had read about Dominic's personal life in magazine articles, plus the few brief glimpses he had given her himself, she knew little or nothing about him.

      And anyone could find out that he came from a working-class background, that his parents had died while he was relatively young, and that he had been brought up by a spinster aunt after that. She didn't need to read it anywhere to know that he never went out with women, or at least, if he did, he was very, very discreet. As regarded his business life, she knew all about that to the last detail. What she didn't know was what devil it was that drove him.

      And if he really regarded her as a friend he would have felt able to confide at least part of the reason for his single-minded attitude to life.

      But she only knew that he was the man she loved. At the same time, she knew that he had memories buried inside him, memories that had scarred too deeply for him to share them with anyone. She knew that instinctively, not from anything he had ever said or shown from his actions. There was evidence enough in the closed man that he was.

      The times that she had hoped and prayed he would open up to her! But all he had ever chosen to discuss with her was business. That was never likely to change now. And it had obviously been enough for Dominic all these years.

      ‘As close as I've got to having one,’ he mockingly echoed her thoughts, as if he had found it all too easy to read them. He glanced at her. ‘Why don't you settle down and have a sleep? And don't say you aren't tired,’ he added softly as she went to protest. ‘Because I know damn well you must be.’

      ‘I was just about to remind you that you had agreed we would take it in turns to drive,’ she said.

      He shrugged. ‘As we've only gone about fifteen miles, I think I might manage to carry on for a while longer!’

      His sarcastic sense of humour had taken a lot of getting used to when she had first gone to work for him, especially as the closest he ever came to acknowledging that humour himself was the occasional glitter of amusement in the dark green eyes!

      ‘I'll wake you when I've had enough,’ he added drily.

      She made a face at him, receiving a mocking quirk of his mouth in response. ‘Just make sure you do,’ she warned as she settled down more comfortably, closing her eyes.

      ‘Yes, ma'am,’ he drawled.

      Cathy opened one eye and looked at him. ‘Try and remember that in future I'm no longer restrained in my responses by the fact that I work for you,’ she said.

      ‘I can't say I ever noticed that fact keeping you silent in the past,’ he mocked. ‘Your honesty, brutal or otherwise, has always been one of the things I've most liked about you.’

      She had never even realised he did like her. He had picked a hell of a time to decide to tell her he did!

      Not that it would have made any difference to her earlier decision. Liking wasn't loving, and she was no longer willing to settle for anything less, especially the scraps Dominic was able to give her. Lord knew she had flared up at Jade about appreciating the value of love when it was offered to her; she couldn't then opt for anything less for herself.

      She had a feeling Jade was well aware of her love for Dominic, although, surprisingly, that was the one thing the two of them had never talked about. Jade was her best friend, but somehow her love for Dominic had always seemed too sensitive a subject to put into words, even to someone as close to her as Jade was. Maybe because she knew that love was so hopeless. The last thing she wanted was pity.

      She chanced another glance at Dominic beneath lowered lashes. He looked grim again. What was he thinking about as he drove along so competently? She never had been able to even guess at his thoughts, the façade he showed to the world always enigmatic.

      He was probably thinking of something quite mundane—such as how insane the two of them must be to be undertaking this journey at all! It might have been nice, just for once, to imagine they were a little in tune with each other. But, as she knew all too well, Dominic was a past master at hiding his thoughts, and feelings, from everyone.

      Although he had certainly shown some reaction to her handing in her resignation, Cathy acknowledged ruefully. Though she certainly wasn't going to attempt to build any more hopeless dreams on that.

      She closed her eyes determinedly, wishing the journey—and this torture—over. Beyond this lay the warmth of Penny and Simon and their home, the wonder of Jade and David's love for each other, the innocence of her two young nephews as they excitedly looked forward to Christmas.

      She smiled at the thoughts, wishing herself there, longing for that enveloping warmth, not aware of the moment when the thoughts became a hazy dream and carried her off to sleep …

      ‘Lunch, Cathy.’

      Lunch? What did lunch have to do with the golden vision before her, all the family seated about the brightly lit Christmas tree? But even as the irritated question came to her Dominic appeared in the vision carrying a silver tray of food. And he looked so right there among her family and friends, so incredibly perfect, so——

      ‘I said it's time for lunch, Cathy,’ that intrusive voice persisted.

      So he kept saying. But she wasn't in the least hungry, and——

      ‘Cathy, wake up.’ A firm hand shook her shoulder.

      She frowned at the irritation, trying unsuccessfully to shake off the hand, only to have the action repeated, more vigorously this time. ‘Go away,’ she muttered impatiently.

      ‘You always were bad-tempered when you woke up.’ Dominic was amused now.

      Cathy was frowning as she reluctantly opened her eyes, the wonderful dream having disappeared as if it had never been. As it hadn't. Dreams were an impossibility.

      Dominic was sitting turned towards her in his seat, not the smiling, loving man in her dreams, but the cynic she was more used to.

      ‘You've been asleep almost two hours, and I need some lunch,’ he told her practically.

      She moved stiffly, still frowning darkly as she straightened in her seat to look around them. Dominic had stopped at one of the roadside service areas, and outside the car the snow still fell softly, thick on the ground where there were no vehicles to churn it up and melt it into muddy slush. The sky was darker above them, too, as if the weight of the snow yet to come was hanging heavily above them.

      ‘Stop complaining, when it was your suggestion that I sleep,’ she snapped moodily, looking in the overhead mirror and doing her best to straighten her appearance before they got out.

      Dominic smiled at her bad temper, shaking his head. ‘Let's go and get something to eat. Fussing over your appearance isn't going to do you a lot of good when you get outside in the wind.’

      The coldness outside did a lot to revive her spirits; she had always loved the snow. Large flecks of it landed on her face and hair, and she was gazing up at the featherlight flakes when her footing suddenly seemed to go from under her and she felt herself falling.

      ‘Steady.’ Dominic's hand was instantly under her elbow as he kept her on her feet, easily supporting her weight beside him. ‘Perhaps you'd better hold on to me.’ He put her hand in the crook of his arm and held it there.

      During the whole time she had worked for him, Dominic had rarely had a need to touch her, and having his hand against hers now made the cold completely disappear. Cathy suddenly felt too warm for comfort.

      As was usual in these places, the service