One Winter's Sunrise: Gift-Wrapped in Her Wedding Dress

‘Really, Andie?’ said Gemma. ‘Has he asked you out?’

‘Nothing like that,’ Andie said.

Eliza nodded thoughtfully. ‘But you like him. Not in the way I liked him. I mean you really like him.’

Andie had no intention of admitting anything to anyone. She forced her voice to sound cool, impartial—though she doubted she would fool shrewd Eliza. ‘Like you, I was surprised at how easy he is to get on with and how professional he is—even earlier this week when I switched the whole concept of his party into something he had never envisaged.’ That overwhelming attraction was just physical—nothing more.

‘And you totally didn’t get how hot he was?’ said Gemma. ‘Don’t expect me to believe that for one moment.’

Eliza rolled her eyes at Andie. ‘I know what’s coming next. He’s not your type. How many times have I heard you say that when you either refuse a date or dump a guy before you’ve even had a chance to get to know him?’

Andie paused. ‘Maybe that’s true. Maybe that’s why I’m still single. I’m beginning to wonder if I really know what is my type now.’

Her friendships with Gemma and Eliza dated from after she’d lost Anthony. They’d been sympathetic, but never really got why she had been so determined to try and find another man cast in the same mould as her first love. That her first love had been so perfect she’d felt her best chance of happiness would be with someone like Anthony.

Trouble was, they’d broken the mould when they’d made Anthony. Maybe she just hadn’t been ready. Maybe she’d been subconsciously avoiding any man who might challenge her. Or might force her to look at why she’d put her heart on hold for so long. Dominic would be a challenge in every way. The thought both excited and scared her.

Eliza shook her head. ‘It’s irrelevant anyway,’ she said. ‘It would be most unwise for you to start anything with Dominic Hunt. His party is a big, important job for us and we don’t have much time to organise it. It could get very messy if you started dating the client. Especially when I’ve never known you to stay with anyone for more than two weeks.’

‘In my eagerness to get you fixed up with a handsome rich guy, I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Gemma. ‘Imagine if you broke up with the billionaire client right in the middle of the countdown to the event. Could get awkward.’

‘It’s not going to happen, girls,’ Andie said. ‘I won’t lie and say I don’t think he’s really attractive. But that’s as far as it goes.’ Thinking of last night’s very intimate dream, she crossed her fingers behind her back.

‘This is a huge party for us to pull together so quickly. We’ve got other jobs to get sorted as well. I can’t afford to get...distracted.’ How she actually stopped herself from getting distracted by Dominic was another matter altogether.

‘I agree,’ said Eliza. ‘Eyes off the client. Okay?’

Andie smiled. ‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘Seriously, though, it’s really important for Dominic that this party works. He’s got a lot riding on it. And it’s really important for us. As you say, Eliza, more work could come from this. Not just weddings and private parties. But why not his company’s business functions too? We have to think big.’

Gemma giggled. ‘Big? Mr Hunt is way too big for me anyway. He’s so tall. And all those muscles. His face is handsome but kind of tough too, don’t you think?’

‘Shh,’ hissed Eliza, putting her finger to her lips. ‘He’s coming.’

Andie screwed up her eyes for a moment. How mortifying if he’d caught them gossiping about him. She’d been just about to say he wasn’t too big for her to handle.

Along with the other two, she looked up and straightened her shoulders as Dominic strode towards them. In his dark charcoal suit he looked every inch the billionaire businessman. And, yes, very big.

She caught her breath at how handsome he looked. At the same time she caught his eye. And got the distinct impression that, of the three women in the room, she was the only one he really saw.

* * *

Did Andie get more and more beautiful every time he saw her? Dominic wondered. Or was it just the more he got to know her, the more he liked and admired her?

He had been impressed by her engaging and professional manner in the boardroom—the more so because he was aware she’d had such a short time to prepare her presentation. Her two business partners had been impressive too. It took a lot to win over his hard-nosed marketing people but, as a team, Party Queens had bowled them over.

The three women got up from their seats as he approached. Andie, tall and elegant in a deceptively simple caramel-coloured short dress—businesslike but with a snug fit that showed off her curves. Her sensational legs seemed to go on for ever to end in sky-high leopard-skin-print stilettos. He got it. She wanted to look businesslike but also let it be known who was the creative mind behind Party Queens. It worked.

Gemma—shorter, curvier, with auburn hair—and sophisticated, dark-haired Eliza were strikingly attractive too. They had a glint in their eyes and humour in their smiles that made him believe they could enjoy a party as well as plan them. But, in his eyes, Andie outshone them. Would any other woman ever be able to beat her? It was disturbing that a woman who he had known for such a short time could have made such an impression on him.

He addressed all three, while being hyper aware of Andie as he did so. Her hair pulled back in a loose knot that fell in soft tendrils around her face, her mouth slicked with coral gloss, those remarkable green eyes. ‘As I’m sure you’re aware,’ he began, ‘my marketing team is delighted at both the concept for the party and the way you plan to implement the concept to the timeline. They’re confident the event will meet and exceed the target we’ve set for reputation management and positive media engagement.’

It sounded like jargon and he knew it. But how else could he translate the only real aim of the party: to make him look less the penny-pincher and more the philanthropist?

‘We’re very pleased to be working with such a professional team,’ said Eliza, the business brains of the partnership. But all three were business savvy in their own way, he’d realised through the meeting.

‘Thank you,’ he said. He glanced at his watch. ‘The meeting ran so late it’s almost lunchtime. I’m extending an invitation to lunch for all of you,’ he said. ‘Not that restaurants around here, excellent as they are, could match the standard of your cooking, Gemma.’

‘Thank you,’ said Gemma, looking pleased. ‘But I’m afraid I have an appointment elsewhere.’

‘Me too, and I’m running late,’ said Eliza. ‘But we couldn’t possibly let you lunch alone, Mr Hunt, could we, Andie?’

Andie flushed high on those elegant cheekbones. ‘Of course not. I’d be delighted to join Dominic for lunch.’

Her chin tilted upwards and he imagined her friends might later be berated for landing her in this on her own. Not that he minded. The other women were delightful, but lunch one-on-one with Andie was his preferred option.

‘There are a few details of the plan I need to finalise with Dominic anyway,’ she said to her friends.

Dominic shook hands with Gemma and Eliza and they headed towards the elevators. He turned to Andie. ‘Thank you for coming to lunch with me,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Be warned, I’m starving. I was up at the crack of dawn finalising those mood boards for the presentation.’

‘They were brilliant. There’s only one thing I’d like to see changed. I didn’t want to mention it in the meeting as it’s my personal opinion and I didn’t want to have to debate it.’

She frowned, puzzled rather than worried, he thought. ‘Yes?’

He put his full authority behind his voice—he would not explain his reasons. Ever. ‘The Christmas tree. The big one you have planned for next to the staircase. I don’t want it.’

‘Sure,’ she said, obviously still puzzled. ‘I thought it would be wonderful to have the tree where it’s the first thing the guests see, but I totally understand if you don’t want it there. We can put the Christmas tree elsewhere. The living room. Even in the area near where we’ll be eating. Wherever you suggest.’

He hadn’t expected this to be easy—he knew everyone would expect to see a decorated tree on Christmas Day. ‘You misunderstood me. I mean I don’t want a Christmas tree anywhere. No tree at all in my house.’

She paused. He could almost see her internal debate reflected in the slight crease between her eyebrows, the barely visible pursing of her lips. But then she obviously thought it was not worth the battle. ‘Okay,’ she said with a shrug of her slender shoulders. ‘No tree.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, relieved he wasn’t going to have to further assert his authority. At this time of year, Christmas trees were appearing all over the place. He avoided them when he could. But he would never have a tree in his home—a constant reminder of the pain and loss and guilt associated with the festive season.

They walked together to the elevator. When it arrived, there were two other people in it. They got out two floors below. Then Dominic was alone in the confined space of the elevator, aware of Andie’s closeness, her warm scent. What was it? Sandalwood? Something exotic and sensual. He had the craziest impulse to hold her closer so he could nuzzle into the softness of her throat, the better to breathe it in.

He clenched his fists beside him and moved as far as he could away from her so his shoulder hit the wall of the elevator. That would be insanity. And probably not the best timing when he’d just quashed her Christmas tree display.

But she wouldn’t be Andie if she didn’t persevere. ‘Not even miniature trees on the lunch table?’ she asked.

‘No trees,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘Okay, the client has spoken. No Christmas tree.’

The elevator came to the ground floor. He lightly placed his hand at the small of her back to steer her in the direction of the best exit for the restaurant. Bad idea. Touching Andie even in this casual manner just made him want to touch her more.

‘But you’re happy with the rest of the plan?’ she said as they walked side by side towards the restaurant, dodging the busy Sydney lunchtime crush as they did.

‘Very happy. Except you can totally discard the marketing director’s suggestion I dress up as Santa Claus.’

She laughed. ‘Did you notice I wrote it down but didn’t take the suggestion any further?’ Her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down in mock inspection. ‘Though it’s actually a nice idea. If you change your mind—’

‘No,’ he said.

‘That’s what I thought,’ she said, that delightful smile dancing around the corners of her mouth.

‘You know it’s been a stretch for me to agree to a Christmas party at all. You won’t ever see me as Santa.’

‘What if the marketing director himself could be convinced to play Santa Claus?’ she said thoughtfully. ‘He volunteered to help out on the day.’

‘This whole party thing was Rob Cratchit’s idea so that might be most appropriate. Take it as an order from his boss.’

‘I’ll send him an email and say it’s your suggestion,’ she said with a wicked grin. ‘He’s quite well padded and would make a wonderful Santa—no pillow down the front of his jacket required.’

‘Don’t mention that in the email or all hell will break loose,’ he said.

‘Don’t worry; I can be subtle when I want to,’ she said, that grin still dancing in her eyes as they neared the restaurant.

In Dominic’s experience, some restaurants were sited well and had a good fit-out; others had excellent food. In this case, his favourite place to eat near the office had both—a spectacular site on the top of a heritage listed building right near the water and a superlative menu.

There had been no need to book—a table was always there for him when he wanted one, no matter how long the waiting list for bookings.

An attentive waiter settled Andie into a seat facing the view of Sydney Harbour. ‘I’ve always wanted to eat at this restaurant,’ she said, looking around her.

‘Maybe we should have our meetings here in future?’

‘Good idea,’ she said. ‘Though I’ll have to do a detailed site inspection of your house very soon. We could fit in a meeting then, perhaps?’

‘I might not be able to be there,’ he said. ‘I have a series of appointments in other states over the next two weeks. Any meetings with you might have to be via the Internet.’

Was that disappointment he saw cloud her eyes. ‘That’s a shame. I—’

‘My assistant will help you with access and the security code,’ he said. He wished he could cancel some of the meetings, but that was not possible. Perhaps it was for the best. The more time he spent with Andie, the more he wanted to break his rules and ask her on a date. But those rules were there for good reason.

‘As you know, we have a tight timeline to work to,’ she said. ‘The more we get done early the better, to allow for the inevitable last-minute dramas.’

‘I have every confidence in you that it will go to plan.’

‘Me too,’ she said with another of those endearing grins. ‘I’ve organised so many Christmas room sets and table settings for magazine and advertising clients. You have to get creative to come up with something different each year. This is easier in a way.’

‘But surely there must be a continuity?’ he asked, curious even though Christmas was his least favourite topic of conversation.

‘Some people don’t want to go past traditional red and green and that’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’ve done an entire room themed purple and the client was delighted. Silver and gold is always popular in Australia, when Christmas is likely to be sweltering—it seems to feel cooler somehow. But—’

The waiter came to take their orders. They’d been too busy talking to look at the menu. Quickly they discussed their favourites before they ordered: barramundi with prawns and asparagus for him; tandoori roasted ocean trout with cucumber salsa for her and an heirloom tomato salad to share. They each passed on wine and chose mineral water. ‘Because it’s a working day,’ they both said at the exact time and laughed. It felt like a date. He could not let his thoughts stray that way. Because he liked the idea too much.

‘You haven’t explained the continuity of Christmas,’ he said, bringing the conversation back to the party.

‘It’s nothing to do with the baubles and the tinsel and everything to do with the feeling,’ she said with obvious enthusiasm. ‘Anticipation, delight, joy. For some it’s about religious observance, spirituality and new life; others about sharing and generosity. If you can get people feeling the emotion, then it doesn’t really matter if the tree is decorated in pink and purple or red and green.’

How about misery and fear and pain? Those were his memories of Christmas. ‘I see your point,’ he said.

‘I intend to make sure your party is richly imbued with that kind of Christmas spirit. Hannah told me some of the kids who will be coming would be unlikely to have a celebration meal or a present and certainly not both if it wasn’t for your generosity.’

‘I met with Hannah yesterday; she mentioned how important it will be for the families we’re inviting. She seems to think the party will do a powerful lot of good. Your sister told me how special Christmas is in your family.’ It was an effort for him to speak about Christmas in a normal tone of voice. But he seemed to be succeeding.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Andie. ‘Heaven help anyone who might want to celebrate it with their in-laws or anywhere else but my parents’ house.’

‘Your mother’s a marvellous cook.’

‘True, but Christmas is well and truly my dad’s day. My mother is allowed to do the baking and she does that months in advance. On the day, he cooks a traditional meal—turkey, ham, roast beef, the lot. He’s got favourite recipes he’s refined over the years and no one would dare suggest anything different.’

Did she realise how lucky she was? How envious he felt when he thought about how empty his life had been of the kind of family love she’d been gifted with. He’d used to think he could start his own family, his own traditions, but his ex-wife had disabused him of that particular dream. It involved trust and trust was not a thing that came easily to him. Not when it came to women. ‘I can’t imagine you would want to change a tradition.’

‘If truth be told, we’d be furious if he wanted to change one little thing,’ she said, her voice warm with affection for her father. She knew.

He could see where she got her confidence from—that rock-solid security of a loving, supportive family. But now he knew she’d been tempered by tragedy too. He wanted to know more about how she had dealt with the loss of her boyfriend. But not until it was appropriate to ask.

‘What about you, Dominic—did you celebrate Christmas with your family?’ she asked.

This never got easier—which was why he chose not to revisit it too often. ‘My parents died when I was eleven,’ he said.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she said with warm compassion in her eyes. ‘What a tragedy.’ She paused. ‘You were so young, an only child...who looked after you?’

‘We lived in England, in a village in Norfolk. My father was English, my mother Australian. My mother’s sister was staying with us at the time my parents died. She took me straight back with her to Australia.’ It was difficult to keep his voice matter of fact, not to betray the pain the memories evoked, even after all this time.

‘What? Just wrenched you away from your home?’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry. That wasn’t my call to say that. You were lucky you had family. Did your aunt have children?’

‘No, it was just the two of us,’ he said and left it at that. There was so much more he could say about the toxic relationship with his aunt but that was part of his past he’d rather was left buried.

Wrenched. That was how it had been. Away from everything familiar. Away from his grandparents, whom he didn’t see again until he had the wherewithal to get himself back to the UK as an adult. Away from the dog he’d adored. Desperately lonely and not allowed to grieve, thrust back down in Brisbane, in the intense heat, straight into the strategic battleground that was high school in a foreign country. To a woman who had no idea how to love a child, though she had tried in her own warped way.

‘I’d prefer not to talk about it,’ he said. ‘I’m all grown up now and don’t angst about the past.’ Except when it was dark and lonely and he couldn’t sleep and he wondered if he was fated to live alone without love.

‘I understand,’ she said. But how could she?

She paused to leave a silence he did not feel able to fill.

‘Talking about my family,’ she finally said, ‘you’re my mother’s new number one favourite person.’

Touched by not only her words but her effort to draw him in some way into her family circle, he smiled. ‘And why is that?’

‘Seriously, she really liked you at dinner on Wednesday night. But then, when you had flowers delivered the next day, she was over the moon. Especially at the note that said she cooked the best lasagne you’d ever tasted.’

‘I’m glad she liked them. And it was true about the lasagne.’ Home-made anything was rarely on the menu for him so he had appreciated it.

‘How did you know pink was her favourite colour in flowers?’

‘I noticed the flowers she’d planted in her garden.’

‘But you only saw the garden so briefly.’

‘I’m observant,’ he said.

‘But the icing on the cake was the voucher for dinner for two at their local bistro.’

‘She mentioned she liked their food when we were talking,’ he said.

‘You’re a thoughtful guy, aren’t you?’ she said, tilting her head to the side.

‘Some don’t think so,’ he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

She lowered her voice to barely a whisper so he had to lean across the table to hear her, so close their heads were touching. Anyone who was watching would think they were on a date.

She placed her hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort which touched him. ‘Don’t worry. The party should change all that. I really liked Rob’s idea that no media would be invited to the party. That journalists would have to volunteer to help on the day if they wanted to see what it was all about.’

‘And no photographers allowed, to preserve our guests’ privacy. I liked that too.’

‘I really have a good feeling about it,’ she said. She lifted her hand off his arm and he felt bereft of her touch.

He nodded. If it were up to him, if he didn’t have to go ahead with the party, he’d cancel it at a moment’s notice. Maybe there was a touch of Scrooge in him after all.

But he didn’t want Andie to think that of him. Not for a moment.

He hadn’t proved to be a good judge of women. His errors in judgement went right back to his aunt—he’d loved her when she was his fun auntie from Australia. She’d turned out to be a very different person. Then there’d been Melody—sweet, doomed Melody. At seventeen he’d been a man in body but a boy still in heart. He’d been gutted at her betrayal, too damn wet behind the ears to realise a teenage boy’s love could never be enough for an addict. Then how could he have been sucked in by Tara? His ex-wife was a redhead like Melody, tiny and delicate. But her frail exterior hid an avaricious, dishonest heart and she had lied to him about something so fundamental to their marriage that he could never forgive her.

Now there was Andie. He didn’t trust his feelings when he’d made such disastrous calls before. ‘What you see is what you get,’ she’d said about her family.

Could he trust himself to judge that Andie was what she appeared to be?

He reined in his errant thoughts—he only needed to trust Andie to deliver him the party he needed to improve his public image. Anything personal was not going to happen.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘ANDIE, I NEED to see you.’ Dominic’s voice on her smartphone was harsh in its urgency. It was eight a.m. and Andie had not been expecting a call from him. He’d been away more than a week on business and she’d mainly communicated with him by text and email—and only then if it was something that needed his approval for the party. The last time she’d seen him was the Friday they’d had lunch together. The strictly business lunch that had somehow felt more like a date. But she couldn’t let herself think like that.

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I just have to—’

‘Now. Please. Where do you live?’

Startled at his tone, she gave him the address of the apartment in a converted warehouse in the inner western suburb of Newtown she shared with two old schoolfriends. Her friends had both already left for work. Andie had planned on a day finalising prop hire and purchase for Dominic’s party before she started work for a tuxedo-and-tiara-themed twenty-first birthday party.

She quickly changed into skinny denim jeans and a simple loose-knit cream top that laced with leather ties at the neckline. Decided on her favourite leopard-print stilettos over flats. And make-up. And her favourite sandalwood and jasmine perfume. What the heck—her heart was racing at the thought of seeing him. She didn’t want to seem as though she were trying too hard—but then again she didn’t want to be caught out in sweats.

When Dominic arrived she was shocked to see he didn’t look his sartorial best. In fact he looked downright dishevelled. His black hair seemed as if he’d used his fingers for a comb and his dark stubble was one step away from a beard. He was wearing black jeans, a dark grey T-shirt and had a black leather jacket slung over his shoulders. Immediately he owned the high-ceilinged room, a space that overwhelmed men of lesser stature, with the casual athleticism of his stance, the power of his body with its air of tightly coiled energy.

‘Are you alone?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she said. Yes!

Her first thought was that he looked hotter than ever—so hot she had to catch her breath. This Dominic set her pulse racing even more than executive Dominic in his made-to-measure Italian suits.