His Christmas Present (5 page)

“What are you doing
here?” he asked. In her younger days, she’d disliked going anywhere on her own,
too worried about having an attack without someone with her.

She opened her
mouth to reply, hesitated and then blew out her breath in a rush. “Long story.”

“I’ve got all afternoon.”

She rolled her
eyes. “Okay. Fiancé dumped me. Decided to take the already-booked romantic
break on my own in a fit of rebelliousness.” She tipped her head. “Okay, maybe
it wasn’t such a long story.”

He smiled at her
quip, but her words also made him frown. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. Big time.”

“How long had you
been engaged?”

“Nearly three
years. I found him in bed with another woman.” She bit her lip.

“Oh for fuck’s
sake.” Exasperation flooded him at the stupidity of his sex.

“Mm.” She
hesitated, and her cheeks reddened, this time not from the cold. “I’m sorry. I
don’t know why I told you that. Jeez, we’ve been talking two minutes and I’ve
blabbed out my entire life story.”

He smiled. “That’s
okay—it’s good to catch up. I’ve wondered a lot about you.” That was a vast
understatement. The memory of the girl he’d kissed that fateful night had
haunted him for eight years.

Their gazes met
again, and for a moment they just studied each other. Even after all this time,
something about her raised his inner thermostat. She was looking at him the way
she’d looked at him at the midwinter party, with a strange mixture of desire
and mischievousness that sent the blood surging to his groin. He’d changed so
much from the teenager he’d been then, but he was surprised to find his
feelings toward her hadn’t altered.

 She shivered, and
he became aware of the snowflakes falling on her hair and shoulders. He should
say his goodbyes and get back to the hotel—he had paperwork to do, plus he
wanted to rehearse the speech he’d prepared for the board of the Czech paper
company.

But Megan’s eyes
were filled with longing, and something made him say, “It’s cold out here, and
I’m hungry. Would you like to have lunch somewhere?”

The businesswomen he
dealt with liked to play it cool—
oh I’ll have to check my diary…
or
oh
I can probably spare you half an hour.
But Megan’s face lit up with
pleasure. “I’d like that,” she said immediately.

He laughed and
stood, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, then. There’s a nice little
restaurant just around the corner from here.”

Megan’s heart lifted
for the first time since she’d walked into her and Cody’s tiny apartment and
found him on top of an extremely busty redhead, going at it with an enthusiasm
he’d somehow never managed to summon while making love to her.

But she wouldn’t
think about that now. She was tired of going over and over the scene, reliving
the disbelief, the denial, the shock and the hurt. She desperately wanted to
move on, but it had been so hard to put it all behind her. And although she’d
thought coming to Prague would give her something else to think about, all it
had done was make her extremely conscious of her single status in possibly the
most romantic city in Europe.

Dion tucked her
hand back in the crook of his arm, and she tried hard not to squeeze her
fingers to feel his muscles beneath the thick coat. What a strange coincidence,
to bump into him like that on the bridge, eight years after he’d moved across
to the other side of the world. Almost as if it were fate…

She rubbed her
nose with her other hand.
Don’t be stupid.
This was a brief moment of
collision, like when the hands on a clock meet at midnight. There was nothing
lasting or fateful about this. She had to take it at face value—a few hours of
fun catching up with an old friend.

“What are you up
to at the moment job wise?” he asked.

“Still painting,”
she said.

“Any Boxer dogs?”

She laughed and
told him about the canvas she’d done of the Waitangi Treaty House that she’d
shown to a friend of her parents. He ran a popular restaurant on the inlet, and
he’d asked if he could hang the painting in the bar. She’d agreed
hesitantly—she made a decent enough living illustrating nature books, but she’d
never sold one of the sketches she did in her spare time. Within the first
week, she had three commissions from restaurant customers, and the following
week one of the art galleries in town asked to see her collection. She showed
them the half a dozen she’d done of local landscapes, and they offered her a
place in their next exhibition.

“That’s
fantastic,” Dion said, his eyes alight with pleasure. “I always knew you’d make
it big.”

She glowed inside at
his obvious happiness for her. “Well it’s a start anyway.”

“Let’s celebrate
with a glass of bubbly.”

“If you insist.”
The thought of becoming a bit tipsy appealed to her. Getting drunk on her own
had seemed sad, but with an old friend it didn’t seem quite so bad.

They crossed the
Old Town Square, their feet scrunching on the new layer of snow. It was two
days before Christmas and the shops were busy, filled with coloured lights that
gave the whole place a magical ambience.

Dion led her over
to a doorway with steps leading down to what turned out to be a restored
medieval-style restaurant in a Gothic cellar. Log fires blazed and filled the
room with a warm glow, and the waitresses wore long gowns and headdresses.

“I might have
guessed,” Megan teased as they were shown to a table in front of a suit of
armour. Dion had always loved anything medieval.

“I saw it
advertised at the hotel and I’ve been dying to try it.” He unbuttoned his coat
and let it slide from his shoulders, catching it in his hands before passing it
to the waitress. “Looks good, eh?”

“Oh yes,” she said
emphatically, although she was staring at him rather than at the restaurant.
Wow, the man knew how to wear a suit. The cut fitted him perfectly, snug across
the shoulders, tapering to his narrow waist. He unbuttoned the jacket as he sat,
revealing a waistcoat underneath. Jeez. How was she going to make it through
lunch without drooling on the white linen tablecloth?

To cover her
stare, she added, “Although if they offer the Black Death as a starter, I’m out
of here.”

He laughed, and
her heart thumped a little faster. How odd—she could see the boy beneath the
man, small glimpses of the Dion she’d known, but they were covered with this
veneer of masculinity that hadn’t been there before. It was an enticing mix, and
the thought of spending an hour or two in his company made her happier than
she’d felt in a long time.

She unbuttoned her
own coat, wondering what his reaction would be as she took it off. She thought
she’d caught a glimmer of interest in his eyes earlier just before he gave her
that brief kiss, but then he’d apologised and she’d wondered if she’d imagined
it.

She let the coat
slide down her arms and handed it to the waitress, then took her seat and made
herself comfortable before raising her gaze to Dion’s, just in time to see his
eyes lift from her breasts to her face. He gave her a wry smile before taking
the menu from the waitress.

Megan studied her
own menu, her heart continuing to race. She’d brought the wardrobe with her that
she’d bought especially for the holiday, determined to wear the clothes even
though there was nobody there to appreciate them. The chic black dress clung
nicely to her breasts before flaring out at the hips. It had a fairly low,
crossover bodice, and the pretty lace of her new black bra showed occasionally above
the material. Clearly, Dion had noticed too.

Both of them
wanted only a light lunch, but because of the cold weather they both ordered potato
soup with mushrooms and homemade rustic bread. Dion asked to see the wine list
and asked for a bottle of
Bollinger Les Vieilles Vignes Francaises
. Megan
nearly had a fit when she saw the price.

“Dion!” She gasped
as the waitress nodded at his good taste and walked away.

“What?” He looked
genuinely puzzled at her shock.

“Didn’t you work
out the exchange rate? That costs
hundreds
of dollars.”

He looked amused.
“Yes, little Miss Provincial, I know what the exchange rate is. I thought we
were celebrating.”

“Yes, but…” Words
failed her. She’d never spent more than twenty dollars on a bottle of wine.

“My treat,” he
said firmly. “I haven’t seen you forever. I want you to have a good time.” His
eyes met hers. Was it her imagination, or did a mischievous twinkle appear at
the words ‘good time’?

“Well, well.” She
leaned back in her seat and played with her napkin. “Clearly you’ve done very
well for yourself.”

He laughed. “I’ve
done okay. Part of the job is taking out clients for business lunches. You soon
get to know the good wines and spirits.”

“So you’re just a
salesman then?”

He shrugged.
“Pretty much.”

“Dion, I’m teasing
you. Don’t you remember how I used to tease you? I bet you’re fantastic at it.”

He smiled and
visibly relaxed. “I do okay.”

“Oh come on, don’t
be modest,” she said. “Tell me about the company.”

So she listened as
he told her about how he’d started by going out with the technical reps to
learn the ropes, and how he’d quickly learned everything there was to know
about paper sizes and storage and what brand would likely cause the most
faults, and how to placate the customers who grew irate when they couldn’t get
their magazines or brochures to print. And how he discovered he had a talent
with people—how he calmed even the most furious customers and kept their
business, even though occasionally they threatened never to buy from the
company again.

Because of his success,
his father transferred him to sales, and there he learned the business behind
the business. Remembering tiny details about customers’ wives’ and children’s
names, taking interest in their problems, making the effort to always return
calls personally and never palm them off—these things enabled him to make a name
for himself, and gradually his clientele grew.

Their soup
arrived, and while they ate he told her that one of the older sales women had
taken him to fancy restaurants to teach him which foods to choose to impress
customers. Reading between the lines, Megan pressed him a little, and he
admitted the woman had seduced him, and he’d given in.

“She was quite a
bit older than me.” He trailed his spoon in the soup and watched the pattern it
made. His gaze came up to hers and he frowned. “I was very young, only twenty,
and she was very attractive.”

“You don’t have to
explain yourself to me.” The tug of jealousy at his words surprised her, though.
Did she think he’d have stayed celibate over the past eight years?

He shrugged and
poured her another glass of champagne. “I’m not declaring myself completely
innocent. I knew she was married. I’m not proud of what I did.”

She said nothing.
He spoke like a man in his forties, and he was only twenty-six. For a moment he
seemed weighed down, and she wondered what a strain the job had on him. Salesmen
were notorious for having health problems. Long lunches and rich food, too
little exercise and the pressure of performance at work. At least he looked
like he took care of himself—he wasn’t overweight, and he obviously went to the
gym.

“What happened?”
she asked, sensing the story didn’t have a good ending.

“My father found
out and sacked her.” He pushed his dish away. “He knew we’d had an affair. I
guess he blamed her. He gave me all her customers. I felt terrible, for a
while. But, well, he’d never have her back at the firm, so in the end I thought
I might as well make the best of it. I worked my socks off with all the
clients. It worked. I’ve now got the most clients in the company.”

“So you put your
champagne skills to work on the customers?” she teased.

He smiled. “Yeah. You
could say that.” He fiddled with the stem of his glass. The issue with the
older woman obviously still bothered him.

“So what’s this
about a takeover?” she asked, trying to lift his mood.

He brightened and
began telling her about the Czech company he’d courted, which they were
probably going to buy out before New Year. “I’m meeting their board of
directors tomorrow,” he said. “We should shake hands on it before the end of
the day.”

“That’s great.”
She leaned back as the waitress took their dishes, and nodded at the offer of a
dessert.

“The thing is,” he
continued, “my father’s close to retirement, and he’s not a well man. If I make
this deal, I think the board are going to make me chief executive.”

“Wow.” That impressed
her. The large firm with branches across Europe would be a huge responsibility
for such a young man. “You’ve done so well for yourself.”

“I suppose.” He
grinned, obviously excited about the prospect of running the company.