Twins For Christmas: A Little Christmas Magic / Lone Star Twins / A Family This Christmas. Alison Roberts
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would cancel her trip and she’d miss the birth of her new grandchild. She’d be miserable and Adam would feel guilty and the children would pick up on the tension and it could quite likely spoil Christmas for all of them. Not that Adam had found much joy in the season in recent years but the children were his priority now, weren’t they?
And Emma had made Poppy giggle with that ridiculous word.
That delicious sound of his daughter’s merriment echoed somewhere in the back of his head and it was enough to soften the disappointment that Emma was so unsuitable.
‘It is only for a few weeks,’ he heard himself saying aloud. ‘But … ach …’ The sound encompassed both defeat and frustration. How bad could it be? He really only needed a babysitter for the hours he had to be at work. ‘Fine. The job’s yours if you want it, Emma.’
‘Oh …’ Her eyes widened with surprise. ‘Yes. Please. But … don’t you have other people to interview?’
‘You were the last.’ She didn’t need to know that she had also been the first, did she? ‘I’ll lock up here and then we’ll head off.’ He looked at the unusual luggage on the floor beside Emma’s chair. ‘Is that all you’ll need?’
She nodded.
‘And you don’t mind being here over the Christmas period? You don’t have family who will be missing you?’
‘No.’ She shook her head this time and dipped her chin so that her gaze was hidden, as if she didn’t want him to see how she felt about that.
Maybe it stirred too many memories that were too painful—like it did for him? An emotional cocktail of grief and anger that the season of goodwill and family togetherness only served to exacerbate? The thought gave him an odd moment of feeling potentially connected to this pale stranger in her oversized clothes. Or maybe it was the poignant tilt of her head as she looked down.
He shook off the unwelcome sensation. He had more than enough people to worry about, without adding someone else. Emma’s job was to make life easier for him for a little while, not to complicate it any further.
‘Right, then.’ His movements were brisk as he logged out of his computer and flicked off the desk lamp. ‘It’s getting late. I suppose I’d better take you home.’
THE DARKNESS OF a winter’s night engulfed the vehicle as it left the outskirts of Braeburn village behind.
Emma eyed the dashboard radio controls longingly. Driving anywhere without music was an alien experience for her but Dr McAllister clearly wasn’t going to allow distractions while he was driving. Fair enough. It was raining hard now and the lights were catching a mist of white speckles that suggested it was trying to turn into sleet.
Would conversation also be deemed a distraction? She risked a sideways glance and had to tilt her chin upwards. Even sitting down, Adam McAllister was tall. Well over six feet. Walking beside him into the clinic’s car park had made Emma feel very small. He hadn’t said anything then either, apart from an offer to carry her bag, which had sounded more like a command than an invitation.
Clearly she hadn’t really made a good impression on her new employer but at least he was prepared to give her a chance. Any optimism that she could change his mind was fading now, however, as she took in a profile that was stern enough to suggest an inability to suffer fools gladly.
Imagine running the gauntlet of that snappy little terrier of a receptionist in order to see such an unapproachable GP? You’d have to be really sick, Emma decided. And I’ll bet his patients never forget to take their pills.
‘What?’
The terse query was enough to make Emma jump. Coupled with the effect of Adam taking his eyes off the road to glare at her for a second, it actually made her heart skip a beat, but the fear that she might have spoken aloud was forgotten as fast as it had appeared.
In the dim reflected light of the dashboard controls, Adam’s eyes looked black under equally dark brows. His hair was long enough to be a little unruly and a single lock had detached itself from the rest to flop across his forehead. The crazy desire to reach out and put that curl back where it belonged was so inappropriate that Emma caught her breath in an audible gasp.
She must have sounded as if she’d suddenly decided she might be in the company of an axe murderer, given the way those dark brows lifted. With his gaze safely back on the road, Adam sounded vaguely uncomfortable with the effect he’d had.
‘I thought I heard you say something,’ he muttered. ‘About the hills.’
‘Oh …’ Emma turned to stare ahead through the windscreen but her gaze caught Adam’s hand on the steering-wheel as she did so. He had long fingers and neatly cut nails and … dear Lord … a wedding ring? Why hadn’t he mentioned his wife? Why hadn’t she been at the interview instead of his mother? Confused, Emma struggled to find a response to his comment. ‘It is hilly, isn’t it? Do you live far from the village?’
‘Only another mile or so. Don’t worry, you’ll have a car to use.’
‘Wow … that’s great.’ Personal transport was an unexpected bonus. ‘Thank you.’
The soft snort sounded exasperated. ‘You’ll need it. There’s a lot of driving involved in getting the children to where they need to be. Poppy has a Highland dance class once a week and Oliver is starting drumming lessons in addition to his bagpipes class. On top of that, the school does a nativity play and there’ll be rehearsals almost every day after school. You’ll also be responsible for grocery shopping and other chores, like going to the vet. One of the dogs is having treatment at the moment for a foot injury.’
Emma was trying to listen carefully to her job description but she was still thinking about the mysteriously absent wife. And then it was too easy to get distracted by the cadence of Adam’s deep voice and the gorgeous accent. She only realised she was smiling when she caught the movement of his head as it turned in her direction again. Hastily, she rearranged her face.
‘I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope it’s nothing serious.’
‘A torn pad, that’s all. But I didn’t notice in time and it got infected.’
Although it looked like they were in the middle of nowhere, Adam put the indicator on and slowed the vehicle, turning through a gap in a tall stone wall. The headlights shone on what looked like a scene from a gothic movie, with the bare branches of massive old trees twisting out to meet each other and create a tunnel—the smaller branches like claws reaching out towards Emma. She shivered.
‘It’ll be warm inside.’
Startled, Emma looked sideways but Adam was concentrating on driving around the biggest lumps the tree roots were making in the driveway. He couldn’t possibly have seen her shiver unless he had exceptionally acute peripheral vision. She hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked at her in his clinic either … as if he knew something she’d rather he didn’t know.
A prickle of sensation ran down her spine. She really needed to curb her overactive imagination. Any minute now and she’d have Mrs McAllister buried somewhere down that spooky driveway and she’d be going into the rather forbidding-looking two-storeyed stone farmhouse to find it devoid of a friendly grandmother or any children. There would just be a dark hallway and a ticking grandfather clock and Dr McAllister would shut the door behind her and turn the lock and say—
‘So … here we are, then.’
She made an odd squeaking sound as Adam took on his role in her wild train of thought with such perfect timing but then the absurdity of it all surfaced and she had to stop herself laughing aloud.
And then—unexpectedly—she got a rush of pure relief. She’d come here in the hope of finding a distraction