Olivia Miles – 'Twas the Week Before Christmas (страница 4)

“I’m probably boring you,” she said with only a slightly apologetic smile.

“Not at all,” Max assured her. “It’s nice to see a person so accomplished and passionate.”

Holly’s cheeks burned at the compliment and Max shifted uneasily. It was time to call it a night.

Standing, he heaved a deep, long sigh, but at the sight of Holly standing to collect the plates, his worries shifted to something softer. “Let me.”

“No, no,” she insisted, brushing away his hand. The plates were already loaded onto the tray and Holly stood straight to lock eyes with his. “Don’t worry about it. I have to go by the kitchen anyway to get to my room.”

Her room? Max’s stomach tightened with realization. The thought of it hadn’t even occurred to him, but of course it made sense. Holly lived here. This wasn’t just an inn; it was her home.

“I guess this is good night then.” She stared at him expectantly, a sweet smile on her lips, which were now the center of Max’s focus.

Before he could do anything he would most certainly regret, Max stuck out his hand, accepting Holly’s slim palm into his own. He held it there for a moment, watching as her eyes clouded in confusion, deferring to him as her guest, or perhaps, waiting for him to take the lead. He swallowed hard.

“Good night, Holly.”

Holly gave a small smile. “Good night, Max.”

Reluctantly, he released her small, warm fingers and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. The memory of her touch burned his palm. The fact that he hadn’t wanted to release it made his stomach turn with unease. He turned quickly and walked through the lobby to the stairs, which he took two at a time all the way to the third floor, not daring to turn back once.

Downstairs in this giant house, a young, beautiful woman was cleaning up the dishes from the dinner she had thoughtfully planned just for him. She was probably eager to rest up for another day of working hard at a job she loved.

She had no idea that as of Christmas Day, he would be the sole owner of the property, and that by the first week of January, The White Barn Inn would be torn down.

Chapter Two

The dining room was already buzzing with cheerful conversation by eight o’clock the next morning. There was nothing like a dusting of fresh snow to excite even the calmest of her guests, Holly had noticed over the years. With Christmas already in the air, today was no exception.

Holly smoothed her winter-white cashmere sweater at her hips and glanced around the dining room once more. It was silly, she knew, to be so nervous over the thought of seeing a man—and one of her guests at that—but she couldn’t deny the quiver that zipped down her spine every time she caught a glimpse of a newcomer through the dining room door. He’d be arriving any minute, she was certain, and the anticipation was starting to gnaw at her. She wasn’t quite sure she had ever taken so much time in deciding what to wear to breakfast before, but the little sleep she’d gotten the night before had allowed ample time for hemming and hawing. And primping.

Ridiculous! She scolded herself once more. Max was her guest. A friendly one, yes. A handsome one...absolutely. A charming one... Holly closed her eyes to capture the memory of that lopsided grin. But a guest nonetheless, she reminded herself firmly. And a guest that would be on his way back to the city tomorrow morning.

“Miss Tate.”

Holly turned at the sound of her name and smiled pleasantly at the familiar guest from the Blue Room. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Adler?”

“Have you heard any news on the storm, dear?”

Evelyn Adler was one of Holly’s favorite guests. She and her husband came twice a year—once in the winter and again in the summer—and Evelyn always requested the Blue Room, claiming it accentuated her eyes. While slightly eccentric, she was well-liked by all members of the staff, and Holly had personally come to see the Adlers as a Christmastime staple.

“I checked the local news this morning,” Holly informed her, “and they’re still expecting two feet tonight.”

“Oh dear.” Evelyn’s brow creased and her mouth thinned as she turned to look out the window. The snow was falling steadily, coming down in small, persistent flakes, forming a fresh dusting on the white blanket that had accumulated overnight.

Holly felt a flicker of worry as she considered the encroaching storm and the effect it would have on her guests and the Christmas traditions she had put such effort into planning. She did her best to mask the concern and said with forced brightness, “I hope it won’t keep you from enjoying some of the activities we have scheduled for the day. Ice skating on the pond, the indoor campfire with s’mores and of course, your favorite—the morning sleigh ride.”

Evelyn managed a smile. “I do love a good sleigh ride.”

“Wonderful. Just gather in the lobby at nine and be sure to bundle up,” Holly said, but her guest had turned her attention away, her sky-blue eyes roaming to the right of Holly’s shoulder with sudden interest.

“My dear,” Evelyn said as she wrapped a hand around Holly’s wrist. “Who is that man?”

Holly glanced over her shoulder to see Max standing near the doorway studying the breakfast buffet. Her pulse quickened as her breath caught in her chest. Pull it together, Holly!

Turning back to Evelyn, she mustered a fragment of composure. “That’s one of our guests, Mrs. Adler.”

“I’ve never seen him before!” Evelyn murmured, her eyes fixed on her subject matter.

Holly suppressed her amusement when she noticed Nelson Adler shake his head slowly over his wife’s innocent enough behavior from his vantage point near the hearth. She said to Evelyn, “He just arrived last night.”

Evelyn’s eyes flashed with curiosity and she darted her gaze back to Holly. “Alone?”

Holly chuckled at the insinuation and, with the hand that wasn’t still in Evelyn’s determined grip, waved a playful finger at her beloved guest. “Now don’t you be getting any ideas into your head, Mrs. Adler.”

Evelyn’s sharp eyes glistened at the accusation. She opened them wide, innocently explaining, “I’m just saying that if he’s alone...and you’re alone...well, do the math, dear.”

Holly tossed her head back in laughter, noticing with a slight jolt that she had inadvertently caught the attention of Max himself. Lowering her voice, she decided to put a polite end to the topic. “Enjoy your breakfast, Mrs. Adler. And remember, nine o’clock in the lobby for the sleigh ride.”

Evelyn reluctantly moved aside, disappointment written all over her face as she pulled her attention away from Max. She glanced back hopefully a few more times as she returned to her table and her eternally patient husband who stared at her over the rim of his reading glasses, shaking his head once more in mock annoyance before burying his nose in the newspaper.

Left on her own again, Holly did her best to ignore the less than subtle gestures Evelyn was making from her corner, which included larger-than-life head nudging in Max’s direction and mouthing of the word “adorable” with increasing passion. As if I need to be told how gorgeous he is, Holly thought. It was only when Nelson gave his wife a sharp look over the top of his paper that Evelyn lowered her eyes and focused on eating her breakfast.

Drawing a deep breath for courage, Holly squared her shoulders and quickly plotted her next move before turning around and facing Max. She’d have to say hello to him; there was no room for being coy. He was her guest and she would have to treat him as such. He was no different than...well, than Evelyn Adler herself!

“Good morning,” Holly said, her voice softer than usual from the sudden tightening in her chest. She forced a shallow breath and smiled up at Max, her heart warming as the corners of his eyes crinkled into a smile.

“Good morning.” His voice was deep and smooth, and something in the low tone left her with a sense of suggested intimacy, as if Max felt they were in on some special secret together. Locking her gaze for enough time to make her heart sprint, he finally motioned to the buffet. “This is quite a spread.”

Holly exhaled a burst of pent-up air and with a humble shrug said, “Oh, it keeps the guests happy.”

“I can see why!” Max grinned, helping himself to a plate.

She gazed at the buffet, trying to see it through Max’s eyes. Platters of steaming cinnamon French toast, poached apples with vanilla syrup, fluffy scrambled eggs, sliced tomatoes, and crisp asparagus spears were lined side by side on the antique farmhouse table. At the end, tiered trays held fresh buttermilk scones and wild blueberry muffins, as well as several carafes of strong coffee.

“You have quite a talented chef,” Max said as he added a scone to his heaping plate.

“I actually do the breakfasts,” Holly muttered, averting her eyes and bracing herself for his reaction. She busied herself by straightening a set of napkins as the heat of Max’s stare burned her cheeks.

“You made all this?”

Holly shifted her gaze to his shocked face. He was looking at her as if she were half-crazy, as she knew he would. It must seem like a lot to take on—a whole lot—but Holly loved it and she would have it no other way.