A Countess For Christmas. Christy McKellen

form the words ‘—getting married again?’

      To her relief he shook his head. ‘No, but it’s time to get my affairs straight now I’m back in England.’

      ‘Before the press interest in you becomes even more intense, you mean?’

      She saw him swallow. ‘Speaking of which, we need to work out what we’re prepared to say to reporters about our relationship if they come calling.’ He stood up and came to sit on the sofa opposite her. He was suddenly all business now, his back straight and his expression blank.

      She took a shaky breath. ‘Should we tell them we were married but we got divorced and we’re just friends now?’ The uncertainty in her voice gave away the fact that she knew deep down that that would never work.

      He shook his head. ‘They’ll go and look for the decree absolute and see that we’re lying. It’ll only make things worse.’

      Sighing, she pushed her hair away from her face. ‘So what do we say? That our marriage broke down six years ago after you moved to the States, but we’re only just getting round to finalising a divorce?’

      ‘They’ll want to know why you didn’t go to America with me,’ he pointed out.

      ‘We could just say that I needed to stay here for family reasons,’ she suggested, feeling a rush of uncomfortable heat swamp her as it occurred to her that they might go after her mother too.