Page 138 of Tuxedos and Tinsel
‘I’m not the mingling type,’ Dominic said. ‘I don’t need to be thanked. I just signed the cheques. It should be Andie they’re thanking; this was all her idea.’
‘She’s brilliant,’ said Rob. ‘Smart of you to snap her up so quickly. You’re a lucky man.’
‘Yes,’ said Dominic, not encouraging further conversation. He’d never been happy discussing his personal life with anyone. The thought that—unless he said something to her—this might be the last day he had with Andie in his life was enough to sink him into a decidedly unfestive gloom.
He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Andie as she flitted around the room, looking her most beautiful in a very stylish dress of form-fitting lace in a dusky shade of Christmas red. It was modest but hugged every curve and showed off her long, gorgeous legs. He tried not to think of how it had felt to have those legs wrapped around him last night...
‘Well, mustn’t linger,’ said Rob. ‘I have to be off and do theho-ho-hothing.’
As Rob made his way back into the throng, Andie rang a bell for attention and asked everyone to move towards the entrance hall. ‘Some of the children and their parents are singing carols for us today.’ She’d told Dominic a few of the adults were involved in street choirs and had been happy to run through the carols with the kids.
There was a collective gasp from the ‘audience’ as they saw the children lined up on the stairs, starting from the tiniest to the teenagers with the adults behind. Again Andie had been right—the stairs made the most amazing showcase for a choir. Each of the choir members wore a plain red T-shirt with the word‘choir’printed in white lower-case letters. It was perfect, gave them an identity without being ostentatious.
Andie met his gaze from across the room and she smiled. He gave her a discreet thumbs-up. Professional pride? Or something more personal?
The choir started off with the Australian Christmas carol ‘Six White Boomers’ where Santa’s reindeer were replaced by big white kangaroos for the Australian toy delivery. It was a good icebreaker, and had everyone laughing and clapping and singing along with the chorus.
As Dominic watched, he was surprised to see Andie playing guitar up on the balcony with two other guitarists. She was singing too, in a lovely warm soprano. He remembered that photo of her playing guitar in the hallway of her parents’ home and realised how much there was he still didn’t know about her—and how much he wanted to know.
When the choir switched to classics like ‘Silent Night’ and ‘Away in a Manger’, Dominic found himself transported back to the happy last Christmas when his parents were alive and they’d gone carol singing in their village.How could he have forgotten?
The music and the pure young voices resonated and seemed to unlock a well of feeling he’d suppressed—unable perhaps to deal with the pain of it during those years of abuse by his aunt. He’d thought himself incapable of love—because he had been without love. But hehadbeen loved back then, by his parents and his grandparents—loved deeply and unconditionally.
He’d yearned for that love again but had never found it. His aunt had done her best to destroy him emotionally but the love that had nurtured him as a young child must have protected him. The realisation struck him—he had loved women incapable of loving him back, and all this time had thought the fault was his when those relationships had failed.
Andie’s voice soared above the rest of the choir. Andie, who he sensed had a vast reserve of love locked away since she’d lost her boyfriend. He wanted that love for himself and he wanted to give her the love she needed. How could he tell her that?
He tried to join in with the words of the carol but his throat closed over. He pretended to cough. Before he made an idiot of himself by breaking down, he pushed his way politely through the crowd and made his way out to the cabana, the only place where he could be alone and gather his thoughts.
But he wasn’t alone for long. Andie, her eyes warm with concern, was soon with him. ‘Dominic, are you okay?’ she said, her hand on his arm. ‘I know how you feel about Christmas and I was worried—’
‘I’m absolutely fine—better than I’ve been for a long time,’ he said.
He picked up her left hand. ‘Take off your ring and give it to me, please.’
Andie froze. She stared at him for a long moment, trying to conceal the pain from the shaft of hurt that had stabbed her heart. So it had come to this so soon. Her use was over. Fake fiancée no longer required. Party planner no longer required. Friend, lover, confidante and whatever else she’d been to him no longer required.She was surplus to requirements.
Dominic had proved himself to be generous and thoughtful way beyond her initial expectations of Scrooge. But she must not forget the cold, hard fact—people who got to be billionaires in their twenties must have a ruthless streak. And he’d reneged on his offer that she could keep the ring—not that she’d had any intention of doing so. To say she was disappointed would be the world’s biggest understatement.
She felt as though all the energy and joy was flowing out of her to leave just a husk. The colour drained from her face—she must look like a ghost.
With trembling fingers, she slid off the magnificent ring and gave it back to him, pressing it firmly into the palm of his hand. Her finger felt immediately empty, her hand unbalanced.
‘It’s yours,’ she said and turned on her heel, trying not to stagger. She would not cry. She would not say anything snarky to him. She would just walk out of here with dignity.This was her worst Christmas Day ever.
‘Wait! Andie! Where are you going?’
She turned back to see Dominic with a look of bewilderment on his handsome, tough face. ‘You’re not going to leave me here with your ring?’
Now it was her turn to feel bewildered. ‘Myring? Then why—?’ she managed to choke out.
He took her hand again and held it in a tight grip. ‘I’m not doing a good job of this, am I?’
He drew her closer, cleared his throat. ‘Andie, I... I love you, and I’m attempting to ask you to marry me. I’m hoping you’ll say “yes”, so I can put your ring back on your wedding finger where it belongs, as yourrealfiancé, as arealengagement ring. Just like you told me you wanted.’
She was stunned speechless. The colour rushed back into her face.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘Andrea Jane Newman, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
