Free Sealed with a Christmas Kiss by Rachael Lucas Page A

didn’t realize until this morning . . . ’
    ‘Oh, that’s fine, then. Not that I was worried or anything.’ He picked up a log and turned it over, sizing it up.
    ‘I didn’t mean to worry you. I thought Tom was calling you to let you know I was okay.’ She’d been pretty thoughtless, really, and she felt a wave of guilt. ‘I was
just a bit upset.’
    ‘
You
were upset?’ Roddy threw the log back onto the pile. He turned around to face her, wiping his hands on his jeans. His eyes were black against the pallor of his cheeks,
stubble shadowing his chin.
    ‘I thought you were dead, Kate. Or you’d got on the last boat back to the mainland.’
    ‘I stayed in the cottage.’
    ‘Yeah. I know. Tom called – eventually – but meanwhile, I had no bloody idea where you’d gone. You can’t just walk off when you feel like it.’
    ‘Yes, I sodding well can. I was angry.’ Mixed with her hangover, Kate felt a prickle of anger at Roddy. He could be so peremptory sometimes. ‘I don’t want to be married
because it’s convenient, or because it’s the right thing to do for bloody Duntarvie Estate.’
    ‘I couldn’t give a shit about Duntarvie Estate. I want to marry you because I love you.’ This came out as almost a shout. Roderick looked at her, furious.
    ‘Fine.’ Kate snapped back at him, irritated.
    ‘Fine.’ He turned away from her, picking up the axe again.
    ‘Right. That’s that sorted.’
    ‘Right.’
    She turned on her heel and stomped back towards the house, the sounds of wood-splitting echoing in her ears.
    Quite a bit later, having slept on the sofa in front of the fire, Kate was stirring, half awake, wondering if there was any chance of a gallon of Coke and several bacon rolls
to stave off the last of her hangover.
    Drowsing, she was woken by the sound of the sitting-room door creaking open. Roddy’s head popped around it, his expression slightly sheepish. He came in and knelt down on the floor beside
her.
    ‘I’m sorry.’ His smile was crooked.
    ‘Me too.’ She reached her hand out, brushing wood shavings from his hair. He was filthy, needed a shower, looked like he hadn’t slept for days, and was utterly beautiful.
    The dogs, who had all sneaked in, covered in mud, snaked around him as he reached into his pocket. They were hoping for treats, but he pushed them off, opening his hand to reveal a beautiful
diamond set into the muted old gold of a family heirloom. He took Kate’s hand.
    ‘Third time lucky.’
    Kate looked steadily into his eyes. She knew she had to make a decision – but this time it was the right one.
    ‘Kate Jarvis – will you marry me?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Definitely? No changing your mind? You don’t have to storm off and think about it for twelve hours and three bottles of corner-shop plonk?’
    ‘Definitely.’
    Kate’s phone bleeped from the coffee table. With a wry smile, Roddy handed it to her.
    ‘I’m going to take a guess that’s Emma. She texted me earlier to check you were still alive.’
    Any chance you can fill me in on what’s going on? Last I heard last night, you were halfway down your fourteenth bottle of rose, you hated Roddy, you were
     contemplating rowing across to the mainland, and all men were tossers.
    Um . . . Kate began.
    ‘Roddy.’ Kate shook him out of sleep.
    ‘It’s not time to get up yet, honey.’ He pulled her towards his chest with a lazy arm, not bothering to open his eyes.
    ‘I know.’ She’d been lying awake for the last hour, going over this in her head. They could sleep afterwards. ‘I’ve had an idea. Well, I’ve had your
idea.’
    ‘Good.’ He half-smiled through his sleep haze, giving a nod. ‘My ideas are usually great ones.’
    ‘Shut up, you.’ She laughed. ‘I think we should get married on Christmas Eve.’
    Roddy’s eyes snapped open.
    ‘You are joking? After all that?’
    ‘Look. We’ve got the perfect opportunity sitting here. You said yourself there was no point in waiting.’
    ‘I