Christmas at the Castle Read Free Page B

chatting to another girl outside the newsagents.
    On his return to the office, unable to stop himself, he’d found himself searching for Alice Warren on Google. Telling himself that this wasn’t stalking, but that he was merely acting in self-preservation, Cameron had discovered that his ex was running Warren Premier Events, a successful event management business in Edinburgh.
    Seconds later, he’d come up with the idea to get her to organise an event for him. That way his lingering obsession with her would either be shot stone dead and he could get on with his life, or Alice would realise she’d made a terrible mistake and that she loved him after all.
    Pushing the sleeves of his thick Aran jumper past his elbows in annoyance at himself, Cameron absent-mindedly signed three documents. Even though he knew he was behaving like a lovesick teenager, he couldn’t help but hope it would all work out.
    Contacting Alice via the Warren Premier Events website, Cameron had asked her to help for old time’s sake. Trying not to feel pathetic, he justified his actions to himself with the thought that, whatever his reasons, there could be few better places for a literary festival than in a castle at Christmas time.
    Hoisting up a large box of Christmas decorations, Cameron headed off to find a couple of gardeners, and a very long ladder. It was time to start getting the Victorian-style lanterns draped around the formal garden.
    Alice swore under her breath. She wasn’t used to being denied what she wanted during business transactions. She’d worn an extra-short skirt as well. OK, so she knew that flashing a bit of leg in such a cold climate made her request look a bit desperate, but she was still surprised when the local bookshop owner had said no.
    Honestly! All she was asking was that he’d buy a selection of books written by all the authors coming to the festival. She wasn’t offering him any financial help, but obviously all the sales money would be his, and she wasn’t going to charge him for the stand at the castle she was proposing he sold his stock from. She was doing him a huge favour, and the chance to boost his Christmas sales. What was wrong with the man? All the city bookshops made this system work.
    Turning her Suzuki off-roader into the drive that wound its way up to Crathes Castle, Alice’s satisfied smile returned as she reflected how her flirty magic had worked so much better on the local catering companies and wine merchants. Letting her have goods on sale or return in exchange for sponsorship meant she had a boot full of champagne, red and white wine, and enough ingredients for mulled wine to keep everyone tipsy until July.
    Pulling into the staff car park, Alice was surveying the immediate grounds for any willing helpers to carry the crates of alcohol into the storeroom for her, when Cameron came out of the castle’s side door, his arms wrapped around a giant cardboard box.
    Lucky box . Alice couldn’t prevent the flutter of lust that rose within her. It was always the same whenever she saw Cameron, with his thick, muscular arms on display to the elbows, his tightly curled ginger hair cropped back army style, and his sturdy frame so strong and capable. She fancied him something rotten, and more – much more – but the fact he wanted more from her as well frightened her to death. And as being afraid was a sign of weakness, and powerful businesswomen did not have time for weakness in their lives, Alice had kept her feelings a secret and walked away.
    She was fairly sure she’d broken his heart, but Cameron had never actually said so, and she certainly wasn’t going to act on her lust-fuelled imagination and ask him outright. Anyway, she’d broken her own heart as well, even though he didn’t know that.
    Picking up a box of wine, Alice called across the empty car park, ‘Cameron, where do you want the festival booze? Any handy chaps around