Page 90 of Not My Little Drummer Boy
“So, Teddy—third time lucky for that drink? Persistence should earn a girl a pint.” The brunette tilts her head, fringe brushing Bambi-big eyes, smile pure mistletoe mischief.
“Bianca.” Teddy’s tone is gentle, but firm. “I’m taken. Even a ‘friendly’ drink’s off the menu.”
My rapid heartbeat eases. Her gaze slips over his shoulder and lands on me. Her lips part, then curve.
“And… I’m guessing that’s the reason now.”
I lift my chin, stepforward, and offer her my best not-at-all-jealous smile.
Teddy’s grin could light all of Oxford Street. He loops an arm over my shoulder, pulls me tight, and plants a kiss in my hair.
Bianca offers her hand; I take the cool fingers in mine.
“Bianca, meet Rachel, my girlfriend. And this is Bianca Chomondley-Smith—Garrett’s sister.”Garrett’s sister?I’ve only ever known him as plain Garrett Smith—clearly not a fan of the full mouthful.
Bianca lets out a mortified laugh, palm flying to her lips. “Oh my god, Rachel—I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a terrible person, hitting on your boyfriend. I only flew in this morning. Saw Teddy, tried to nab him for a celebratory drink—hadn’t clocked he’s spoken for.” Her eyes sparkle with self-mockery. “Promise I’m not usually a boyfriend-poacher.”
My shoulders loosen. “I’m sure jetlag’s a valid defence.”
Bianca lifts her empty flute. “Top-up run—shall I snag you one?”
“Yes, please.”
She glides toward the bar, tossing me a wink that saysall good, sister. A minute ago she was a suspected boyfriend-stealer; now I’m planning prosecco brunches with her.
Teddy’s grin could melt the polar ice caps.
“You really should thank her.”
“For the minor heart attack she gave me?”
“For letting me tick off number four on the prove-it list.”
We recite together, “Cancel plans with another woman for me,” and collapse into giggles. We’ve both memorised the stupid list.
“You know I could get that thrown out on a technicality?” I jab a finger at his chest. “There wereno actual plans to cancel.”
He shrugs, smug. “Implied. She’s had plans for me for months.”
I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest is impossible to hide. “Fine. I’ll rule in your favour. This time.”
I smooth a thumb over his lapel, the starched white shirt beneath cool against my knuckles.
“Trying to impress someone tonight, are we?” I flick a pearly button.
“Only the girl in green velvet.” He pauses, voice low now, so the world around us feels a little quieter. “I know what this means, Rache. I know the risk you took to be here.”
He cups my jaw, slips one hand into my hair, and pulls me in. The kiss says all I’ve left unsaid. I’m sorry. I’m back. I’m not running again.
The ballroom chatter and Christmas soundtrack dissolve into a distant hum while heat oozes through me.
“Hey there, lovers.” Bianca nudges my elbow, two champagne flutes in hand. “Look who I’ve dredged up—Oscar Cavendish. He practically lived at ours when we were kids. Says he’s a partner at your firm, Rachel.”
Oscar hovers at her shoulder—impeccable Windsor knot, shark-bright eyes—a high-flyer senior partner who’ll soon vote on my future.
Instinct kicks in; my arms snap away from Teddy’s waist, elbows pinned to my sides like a child caught red-handed with the last mince-pie. Too late, the guilty flush is already climbing my neck, Oscar’s cool gaze scanning every trace of it.
“Oscar’s always up for a party. Especially industry events. Never turns down Garrett’s invites, right?” Bianca chatters on, oblivious to thecurrent between us.
