Christmas for One: No Greater Love by Amanda Prowse Read Free Book Online Page B

‘You aren’t married or even involved.’ He folded his arms across his chest as if to state that he wasn’t leaving any time soon.
    Meg looked at her lonely supper and her single serving of milk as she flexed her ring-free fingers. ‘I don’t see that whether I am single or not is anything to do with you.’ She turned back to her sandwich.
    ‘You sound adorable. I could listen to you all night.’ He smiled.
    Meg rolled her eyes. As if that was going to happen.
    ‘I’m right, aren’t I? Come on! Throw me a bone here. You’re single, I can tell.’
    ‘Why do you think I’m single?’ she asked, partly to hurry the exchange along and get it over with and also, she had to admit, she was curious.
    He leant forward and she noticed for the first time his very, very blue eyes, a similar colour to his shirt. ‘It’s just a guess, but mainly I’ve come to that conclusion because you are really, really ugly.’
    Meg coughed, nearly choking on her pickle. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
    ‘I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Don’t asphyxiate, my Heimlich skills leave a lot to be desired.’ He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and chuckled. ‘And why are you so tired, if you don’t mind me asking?’
    ‘I do mind, actually.’ Meg folded her food back into its wrapper and decided to take it back to her room as originally planned; she was not in the mood for his approaches.
    ‘Hey, come on, haven’t you heard of friendly New York banter?’ He feigned distress, putting his hand on his heart.
    ‘Haven’t you heard of piss off and leave me alone?’ Her tone sharper than she had intended.
    ‘Aw, come on, I’m only messing with you, Mary. We’ve got a thing going on here, this is good!’ He grinned.
    ‘We definitely do not have a thing going on and my name isn’t Mary!’
    ‘Well, that’s easily fixed. If you tell me your real name then I won’t have to call you Mary any more, will I, Mary?’
    Meg jumped down from her stool and walked quickly from the deli without looking back at denim-shirt guy, the idiot. She was tired, hungry and dreaming of her bed at home. It would take more than a pair of sparkly blue eyes to get around her tonight.

4
    It took a full second for Meg to remember where she was as she slid reluctantly from between the crisp, warm sheets, reaching for her phone alarm as it pipped her awake. She had texted her safe arrival to Milly the previous night and now she desperately wanted to speak to Lucas, wanted to hear his breathy gabble down the line reassuring her that he was far too busy to talk. She checked her watch, which was still on UK time; he’d be at pre-school. Their chat would have to wait until later. It was going to be the most frustrating thing about being here, trying to schedule their contact around bedtime, work time and a five-hour time difference.
    She groped, bleary-eyed, around the bedroom until she located the bathroom door. The hot shower was just the kick-start she needed. Meg stood with the outdated showerhead angled just so and let the water pummel her back. She dug her nails into her scalp, rubbing vigorously to rid her skin of the greasy film that built up after travelling. Then she wrapped herself in the white fluffy towel and combed her hair. After slipping into her fitted black wool trousers and her favourite grey polo neck, she twisted her hair up into a messy topknot and was ready to face the day.
    Passing through reception, Meg spied Salvatore sitting in one of the leather chairs, immaculate as ever. He was scouring The Villager with his glasses in his hand hovering over the print, using them like a magnifying glass.
    ‘Good morning!’ she said cheerily, still trying to win him over, as she buttoned up her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck.
    ‘Don’t know what’s good about it!’ He tapped the open page with the arm of his spectacles. ‘Are they going to pull down every goddam historical building and replace them all with