The Yuletide Engagement. Carole Mortimer

course, Ellie,’ he answered blandly. ‘I’ll try very hard not to mention to anyone that you occasionally like to sunbathe topless in the back garden—weather permitting!’ He grimaced as snow slowly began to fall on the windscreen.

      ‘You—!’ Ellie gasped, feeling the sudden heat in her cheeks as she turned to stare at him. ‘Patrick—’

      ‘Ah, here we are,’ he informed her lightly, turning the Mercedes into the car park of the restaurant, parking it beside the green Rolls Royce owned by Ellie’s boss before getting out of the car and coming round to open Ellie’s door for her. ‘Was it something I said?’ he prompted innocently as she made no move to get out of the car.

      He knew very well that it was!

      ‘Come on, Ellie. I’m getting wet out here,’ he encouraged briskly.

      Of course he was; the snow was coming down in earnest now. Ellie wrapped her coat around her and pulled up the collar about her neck as they hurried over to the entrance to the restaurant.

      ‘We’ll leave this here, I think,’ Patrick said firmly as they entered the foyer, removing Ellie’s coat and handing it to the receptionist before Ellie even had time to realise what he was doing.

      She suddenly felt self-conscious again as she looked down at the eye-catching red dress. Maybe it was too much. After all, this was only a company Christmas dinner. Instead of looking eye-catching, as she had hoped, was she going to look ridiculously overdressed?

      ‘Ellie, you look beautiful,’ Patrick told her firmly—before his lips came down gently on hers and his arms moved about her waist to mould her body against the hardness of his.

      The kiss was so unexpected that Ellie responded, her lips parting beneath his even as her arms moved up about his shoulders.

      She totally forgot where they were, why they were there—who she was, even—as those warmly sensual lips continued to explore the softness of her own. The tip of Patrick’s tongue was now moving erotically against her lower lip, turning her body to liquid fire, her legs to jelly.

      His eyes were dark with query as he finally lifted his head to look into the flushed beauty of her face. ‘Better.’ He nodded, his thumb running lightly across her slightly swollen lips. ‘Now you actually look like a woman out for the evening with her lover!’ he added with satisfaction.

      Of course. That was the reason Patrick had kissed her. The only reason.

      ‘Perhaps next time you could give me some warning of what you’re about to do,’ she bit out abruptly, covering her confusion—and her blushes!—by opening her evening bag and searching through its contents. ‘Lipstick,’ she told him abruptly, and held out a tissue for him to wipe his mouth.

      ‘You do it,’ Patrick encouraged huskily. ‘I can’t see what I’m doing,’ he reasoned before she protested.

      She swallowed hard, willing her heart to stop pounding, her hand not to shake as she reached up to wipe the smears of lipstick that he now had on his mouth.

      So engrossed was she in not betraying how shaken she felt that she didn’t even see the man walking past, a dark scowl on his handsome features as he stopped to stare at the two of them.

      ‘Ellie…?’ he questioned uncertainly—as if he couldn’t quite believe the woman in the red dress, a woman who had obviously just been very thoroughly kissed, was actually her.

      She stiffened before looking at him. ‘Gareth,’ she greeted him distantly, feeling rather than seeing Patrick as he moved to stand beside her, his arm curving possessively about her waist. She glanced up at him, a shiver running down her spine as she saw the narrow-eyed look he was giving the younger man. ‘Patrick, this is a work colleague—Gareth Davies,’ she dismissed with deliberate lightness, glad of that lightness as she saw Gareth’s scowl deepen. ‘Gareth—Patrick McGrath,’ she added economically, still too shaken by that kiss to think how to describe him to the other man.

      ‘The Patrick McGrath?’ Gareth questioned abruptly as he looked frowningly at the other man.

      Patrick smiled—a smile that didn’t reach the cold grey of his eyes. ‘I very much doubt there’s only one Patrick McGrath in the world,’ he answered the other man tauntingly.

      ‘We really should be going in, Patrick,’ Ellie put in determinedly as she saw the light of challenge that had now appeared in both men’s eyes. ‘If you’ll excuse us, Gareth?’ she added dismissively, not giving him a second glance as she turned and walked in the direction of the main restaurant, Patrick at her side, his arm still firmly about her waist.

      Not quite the way she had envisaged the evening beginning!

      But then she hadn’t expected Patrick to kiss her either…

      Why on earth had he kissed her? Just for effect, as his words afterwards had seemed to imply? Well, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the effect his unexpected behaviour had had on her!

      She could still feel the sensuous touch of his lips against hers, still feel the hardness of his body as she moulded perfectly against him, the warmth that had coursed through her, that totally not-knowing-where-she-was-and-not-caring-either feeling.

      As for Gareth! Amazingly, she had felt absolutely nothing as she’d looked at him just now. Except perhaps a vague disbelief that she had ever been taken in by his overt good looks and charm…

      What did it all mean…?

      But as they walked into the restaurant and Patrick was greeted effusively by her boss, George Delacorte, Senior Partner at Delacorte, Delacorte and Delacorte, Ellie knew she would have to get back to that particularly puzzling question later!

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘I HAD no idea you were going to be here with Ellie this evening, Patrick.’ The older man greeted him warmly and the two men shook hands. George Delacorte was a tall, distinguished-looking man with iron-grey hair and twinkling brown eyes that belied the shrewd trial lawyer he actually was. ‘You should have told me, Ellie,’ he chided teasingly.

      Told him what? Until a few seconds ago she hadn’t even known that he and Patrick were acquainted! Patrick certainly hadn’t mentioned that he knew the older man.

      ‘How are Anne and Thomas?’ George smiled.

      ‘Very well, thank you, sir,’ Patrick replied smoothly, his arm still lightly about Ellie’s waist, almost as if he weren’t aware that she was staring up at him in amazement.

      Why hadn’t he told her he knew George Delacorte? It was obvious from the easy way he was talking with the older man that Patrick had been perfectly well aware that he would be seeing the other man this evening! In fact, she knew that he had; she had told him herself that it was the Delacorte Christmas dinner!

      ‘And Teresa?’ the older man continued lightly. ‘Breaking hearts, as usual?’

      Patrick shrugged. ‘I think she might finally have met “the one’,” he answered indulgently.

      ‘Good for her.’ George chuckled.

      Who on earth were Anne and Thomas—let alone Teresa? Ellie realised she really should have asked Patrick for a few more personal details. And maybe she would have done if she had known they would be relevant to this evening!

      ‘I must just go and tell Mary you’re here; she’ll be so pleased to see you,’ George said happily. ‘Sarah is here too—somewhere.’ He frowned. ‘You’re coming to the family party tomorrow?’ he prompted abruptly.

      ‘Of course,’ Patrick assured him.

      ‘Bring Ellie, too,’ George went on with a smile in her direction. ‘If you would like to come, my dear?’ he added gently.

      She had no idea what party either