Page 26 of The Christmas Holiday
‘Well, you are, obviously…’Uh-oh!I suddenly realised that it was probably quite some time since Hunter had taken suggestions as to what he might like to photograph. ‘I just meant…’
The hint of a smile shadowed his lips as he tugged at my hat, pulling it further down over my face. ‘It’s fine. I was just about to ask a couple of them anyway.’
I pulled myhat off and swished him on the arm with it.
‘You’re such an—’
‘Good evening, sir, ma’am.’
‘Hello!’ I replied brightly, cutting off my almost-insult and switching on a smile. Hunter grinned at me before turning to the doorman who had spoken.
‘Excuse me, would you mind…’
I left him to it and headed in to the cool, marble interior of the foyer. Glancing back, I saw Hunter chattingand laughing with a couple of the men, once again calling on that innate ability to put people at their ease. Having chosen one of the most competitive fields there was as a career, I imagined it had proved a useful personality facet for him.
I had thought, when it came to us, that the feeling of being easy with each other had gone for ever, destroyed along with everything else we’d had together.But today I’d seen glimpses of it. I knew we would never be what we once were. And that wasn’t what I wanted anyway. Hunter and I had had very different views of the future, as it had turned out. Something that, in the end, could no longer be ignored. Mine hadn’t changed particularly, and I didn’t expect his to have either. But I’d always loved his company, admired his talent and spirit, andsharing some of that once again as we explored this incredible city together had given the day an extra layer of unexpected enjoyment.
***
Taking Hunter’s advice – something I definitely wasn’t going to admit to – I didn’t head straight to my laptop but instead ran a bath and sank into the soothing, hot bubbles and let the experiences of the day wash over my mind. The sounds, sights, colours,smells and noise of the day percolated through and distilled into the story I knew I wanted to write. Which I assume was what Hunter knew would happen if I let it. It was strange to think that he knew me so well. Still. At times today, I’d thought I’d still known him well too – but then, there’d be a look on his face when he didn’t realise I was watching. One I didn’t recognise or understand.Many things about Hunter Scott were the same – he was still tall, dark and insanely gorgeous, had the best smile I’d ever seen on a man and an intellect that had sometimes done even more to turn me on than his so-sexy-it-should-be-illegal body – and that was saying something. But he was different. It was like I knew him, but didn’t… not quite.
