Mistletoe Magic. Кэрол Мортимер
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her hand as she did exactly that.
It took several minutes for the waves of nausea to stop, the light-headedness to dissipate. But they were minutes when her brain once again seemed capable of functioning without any help from her.
She straightened. ‘You knew about all of this,’ she said accusingly. ‘All this time you’ve known—’
‘I’ve known for precisely one day,’ Gideon corrected her firmly. ‘Since I mentioned my misgivings to Sam after you went to bed that night and he came clean on the subject. One of those telephone calls he had to return on Monday morning was to the police,’ he explained, as Molly would once again have spoken accusingly. ‘Rachel Gibson had been reported as being seen in the area, and, following investigations, they discovered that she and Sam had once been engaged…’ He shrugged. ‘The police wanted to inform Sam of the—incident, only as a matter of courtesy, because of their past connection. I don’t believe they really thought she would come after him here.’
‘Then they were wrong, weren’t they?’ Molly rasped. ‘Finally knowing where Sam was, seeing that photograph, seeing his happiness with Crys and Peter. My God, did Crys know about all this, too?’ She frowned as the thought suddenly occurred to her. She’d have a deeper respect for Crys if she had known; to all intents and purposes, apart from that scare with Peter, Crys had seemed caught up in the gaiety of Christmas.
Gideon smiled without humour. ‘Sam doesn’t have any secrets from Crys.’
‘Unlike you with regard to me,’ Molly snapped, picking up the whisky glass and downing the contents. ‘I suppose now you’re going to accuse me of being a lush again?’ she challenged, two fiery spots of angry colour in her cheeks.
It wasn’t logical, and she knew that it wasn’t, but nonetheless she couldn’t help her feelings of anger towards Gideon for treating her as if she were a child who couldn’t handle the truth. She felt the same anger towards Sam, too. But Gideon was the one here in front of her, and as such he was the one who would bear the brunt of her anger.
‘Molly—’
‘Don’t touch me!’ she told him fiercely, brushing past him to stand up.
Gideon eyed her warily and slowly stood up. ‘Molly, there was no point in worrying you, too—’
‘Don’t tell me whether or not I should worry!’ she snapped furiously, her eyes glittering brightly. ‘I’ll worry if I want to—not when someone else decided that I should!’ she continued illogically. ‘God, you’re an arrogant—’
‘I advise you to stop right there,’ he warned coldly.
‘—pig,’ she concluded challengingly. ‘A chauvinist pig to boot,’ she continued wildly. ‘You were the one who stopped Sam from telling me the truth.’ She realised what had happened now, what it was Sam had wanted to talk to her about. But he had been stopped from doing so by Gideon’s warnings of caution. ‘I can hear it all now. “Don’t tell the little woman”,’ she mimicked. “‘It will only worry her”.’
‘It wasn’t like that—’
‘Yes, it was,’ she snapped hardly. ‘It was exactly like that! Well, do you know something, Gideon Webber? You can go to hell,’ she continued, without giving him an opportunity to answer.
She turned sharply on her heel and ran from the room, taking the stairs two at a time until she reached the sanctuary of her bedroom, where she threw herself down on the bed, her anger quickly turning to tears.
She cried for poor, sick Rachel, and the obsession for Sam that had never completely left her. She cried for the mess that was Gideon and her, for all the misunderstandings between them. But most of all she cried because in spite of everything she knew she still loved him.
‘Hey,’ Crys chided gently as she moved to sit beside Molly on the bed a few minutes later. Molly had been crying so deeply she hadn’t heard her friend enter the room. ‘Molly,’ she said firmly, ‘it’s over now. Come on.’ She pulled Molly into her arms, hugging her tightly as the tears finally began to stop. ‘Who are you crying for, Molly? Poor Rachel? Or Gideon?’ she added astutely.
Molly moved back to look at her friend. ‘Is it so obvious that I’m in love with him?’
Crys gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Only to me. Gideon doesn’t have a clue, I can assure you,’ she added ruefully. ‘In fact, from what he said to me just now, he seems utterly convinced that you hate him.’ She looked questioningly at Molly.
She swallowed hard, wiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘It’s him who hates me,’ she contradicted. ‘And all because—because… Crys, there’s something I should have told you long ago,’ she said huskily. ‘Something about James. And…and me.’
Crys frowned. ‘Yes?’
Molly closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before she began talking, knowing it all had to come out now, and that Crys should have been told long ago. ‘Do you remember my disastrous love affair with Derek? Of course you do.’ She answered her own question with obvious self-derision. ‘You tried to warn me at the time about the dangers of falling in love with a man so recently separated from his wife—that very often they patched up their differences and were reconciled. I didn’t listen, as you know.’ She sighed heavily. ‘And I ended up getting very hurt when Derek did exactly that.’
Crys looked confused. ‘You don’t still love him, do you?’
‘No, of course not,’ Molly dismissed instantly. ‘I’m not sure I ever did,’ she added huskily. The way she now felt about Gideon made that other love pale into insignificance. ‘Maybe I was just flattered.’ She sighed again. ‘He was an internationally known actor, very good-looking, and it was me he wanted to be with! At least I thought it was at the time…’ She shook her head. ‘I was devastated when he returned to his wife.’
‘I know that.’ Crys nodded, still looking puzzled.
‘Yes,’ Molly said firmly. ‘But what you don’t know—what I’ve never told you—is that the night Derek went back to his wife I got very drunk—’
‘You were entitled,’ Crys replied. ‘He wasn’t exactly gentle about it, if I remember—just arrived at a party with her one night. A party where he was supposed to be meeting you,’ she recalled disapprovingly.
Molly winced at the memory. ‘The night I got dr—’
‘Alcoholically challenged,’ Crys corrected decisively. ‘You drank a little more than you would usually, that’s all. James assured me that you certainly were not drunk.’
Molly blinked, her mouth feeling very dry. ‘James did…?’
‘Of course,’ her friend dismissed. ‘I was glad that you went to him. Sorry I wasn’t there to help, of course, but James assured me he had done a good job of taking care of you.’
‘He did,’ Molly confirmed numbly. ‘But—I—you knew about that night?’
‘Well, of course I did,’ Crys assured her lightly.
She frowned dazedly. ‘But I… All this time…’ she shook her head ‘…and you’ve never said.’
Crys gave a rueful smile. ‘What could I have said? Derek was a very selfish man, and he hurt you very badly; there was no point in my bringing up the subject again when you obviously didn’t want to talk about him.’
‘But the night I stayed at your apartment—’
‘What of it?’ Crys asked. ‘Look, Molly, you’re my best friend and I trust you implicitly, just as I trusted James, so what was there for me to say about that night? Without reminding you of Derek’s duplicity, that is,’ she added grimly.
Molly shook her head dazedly. ‘I can’t believe you’ve known all this time that I stayed at your apartment with James when you were