Christmas at Waratah Bay Read Online Free

that’s not true. I’m always standing on toes. I have big feet.”
    “But cute,” he said before he could help himself and she grinned.
    “I pay a fortune for pedicures. If you look closely I have little gorillas on each of my big toes.”
    “You’re kidding me.”
    She regrouped, grinned and did a conscious eyelash flutter. She had the moves right—hadn’t the world’s best photographers taught her? Plus, she knew she had the eyelashes. “If you get me a Christmas tree I’ll let you close enough to see,” she told him, and fluttered some more.
    “Is that . . . ”
    “A proposition?” Her smile widened. She knew the effect of her smile on men, and she used it. I believe it is. It’s not every man who gets to see my gorillas. Mind, it’s feet at fifteen inches, and not an inch closer.”
    “You play hard ball.” He still didn’t take his eyes off her.
    “Yeah, but I really want a tree.”
    “It won’t look any good in this dump.”
    “No,” she said. “It won’t. But I’ve promised Harold a Christmas and a Christmas he’s going to get. We’ll have a tree and imagine the rest.”
    “Imagine happy families?”
    “That’s the one,” she said, ignoring his sudden switch to scorn. “If you can’t have a real one you might as well pretend.”
    “But you . . . ”
    “You know, Max Ramsey, my time is precious,” she snapped, forgetting the seductive tone. She didn’t have time for it. “It’s four o’clock and if you won’t help me get a tree, I need to get back into town and either persuade someone to deliver one, or figure how to tie one on the top of my hire car. If you won’t help me, then go away. If you’d like to drop by on Christmas morning for a mince pie then you’re very welcome, because I know Harold would like that, but otherwise . . . thank you and goodbye.”
    “Why are you thanking me?”
    “Because you have been good to Harold,” she conceded, her tone softening. “He’d have been so lonely without you.”
    “No thanks to you and your family.”
    “So here you go again, judging.” She shook her head “I’m not interested in your judgment, Mr. Ramsey. I’m not interested in your condemnation, either. We all do what we have to do, and we can’t do everything. I’m here now. This is all the time I have, and I’ll use it the best way I can. Harold may well only have this one last Christmas and I’m damned if I’ll let your judgment spoil it. Help me or go away.”
    There was a moment’s silence—a long silence—but she let it hang. Max stood, lean and watchful. Still like the panther. Was he expecting her to break and run? Sarah wondered, but there was no way she would. She stood with her arms folded and she tapped her toe and then, she looked at her watch. He really was the most irritating . . .
    “I’ll help,” he said.
    Deep breath. It was like a panther had spoken—just as unexpected. But, play it cool. “Well, hooray. If you could find me a tree . . .”
    “If it’s to be Harold’s last Christmas, we’ll do it properly,” he snapped. “The whole box and dice.”
    “You want more than one mince pie?”
    “I want a proper Christmas for Harold. If you really are a nurse . . . ”
    “I told you . . . ”
    He put up his hands as if in surrender. “Fine. I believe you. You really are a nurse and you really are intent on bringing Harold home for Christmas. But this isn’t his home. It’s never been his home. He was born in the big house, and he lived there until your mother demanded . . . ”
    “Stop, right there.” She should explain, she thought, but there were complications enough in this equation. This wasn’t the time to throw more in.
    “Okay,” he conceded. “Until circumstances beyond both of our control intervened to make life impossible, Waratah Bay was his home. Let’s take him there.”
    She gasped. “But that’s your home.”
    “There’s only me and the dogs in it. There’s room. And