Blithe Images by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts [Roberts, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Chapter Five

Christmas was approaching, and the city was decorated in its best holiday garb. Hillary watched from her window as cars and people bustled through the brightly lit streets. The snow fel upon city sidewalks, the drifting white adding to her holiday mood. She watched the huge flakes float to earth like down from a giant pil ow.

Shooting of the layout was complete, and she had seen little of Bret in the past few days. She would be seeing less of him, she realized, a shaft of gloom darkening her cheerful mood. Now that her part in the project was over, there would be no day-to-day contact, no chance meetings. She sighed and shook her head. I’m going home tomorrow, she reminded herself, home for Christmas.

That was what she needed, she told herself, closing her eyes on the image of Bret’s handsome features. A complete change of scene. Ten days to help heal her heart, time to reevaluate al the plans she had laid out, which now seemed hopelessly dul and unsatisfying.

The knock on the door caused her to remove her face, which had been pressed against the glass. “Who is it?” she cal ed as she placed her hand on the knob.

“Santa Claus.”

“B-Bret?” she stammered, thrown off balance. “Is that you?”

“Just can’t fool you, can I?” After a slight pause, he asked, “Are you going to let me in, or do we have to talk through the door?”

“Oh, sorry.” She fumbled with the latch and opened the door, staring at his lean form, which leaned negligently against the frame.

“You’re locking up these days.” His eyes swept her pearl-colored velour housecoat before he brought them back to hers. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Oh, sure.” Hillary stood back to let him enter, desperately searching for lost composure. “I, ah, I thought Santa came down the chimney.”

“Not this one,” he returned dryly, and removed his coat. “I could use some of your famous Scotch. It’s freezing out there.”

“Now I’m total y disil usioned. I thought Santa thrived on cookies and milk.”

“If he’s half the man I think he is, he’s got a flask in that red suit.”

“Cynic,” she accused, and retreated to the kitchen. Finding the Scotch easily this time, she poured a measure into a glass.

“Very professional.” Bret observed from the doorway. “Aren’t you going to join me in some holiday cheer?”

“Oh, no.” Hillary wrinkled her nose in disgust. “This stuff tastes like the soap I had my mouth washed out with once.”

“You’ve got class, Hillary,” he stated wryly, and took the glass from her hand. “I won’t ask you what your mouth was washed out for.”

“I wouldn’t tel you anyway.” She smiled, feeling at ease with the casual banter.

“Wel , have something, I hate to drink alone.”

She reached into the refrigerator and removed a pitcher of orange juice.

“You do live dangerously, don’t you?” he commented as she poured. She raised the glass in toast and they returned to the living room.

“I heard you’re off to Kansas in the morning,” he said as she seated himself on the sofa.

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