Sommersgate House (Page 48)

Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(48)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“I think I should help my own teammate, thank-you-very-much,” Charlie barged her way forward, slipped against Julia, who had lined up her shot, sending the cue flying into the ball, which went off in a wild trajectory across the table. Julia was too occupied to notice what happened to her wayward shot as Charlie falling into her sent her backwards, straight into Douglas. One strong arm closed around her waist to steady her and she immediately became aware of his warm body behind her.

“That’s her shot!” Oliver crowed.

“It is not! It was a mistake. She tripped.” Charlie went off to argue with her husband and Julia pulled herself firmly, albeit it tipsily, away from Douglas’s arm.

Therefore, she stumbled again, cursing the drink as his hand shot out to steady her.

“I’m fine,” she said and thanked the Lord above there were no words to slur in that statement. Then she turned and he dropped his hand.

“I can see that,” he replied, amusement dripping from every word.

She lifted narrowed eyes to him.

Douglas was amused?

“Are you making fun of me?” Julia asked.

He didn’t answer, he simply lifted a brow.

“I hate it when you lift that brow,” she outright lied. “It’s so superior.”

“That’s apt, especially in snooker,” Douglas returned.

“We’ll see about that!” she snapped, this time accepting his challenge herself.

It was his turn and as he lined up his shot, she got in front of him, as close to him as she dared, and looked down on him as he bent over the table.

“Oo, that looks like a difficult one,” she remarked in a sugary-sweet tone with false wide-eyed wonder. “Do you really think you’ll make it?”

He lifted his head to gaze at her levelly over his shoulder, turned back and, within a split second, potted the ball.

Oliver hooted, clapped and then shouted, “Well done, mate!”

Julia wanted to stamp her foot in frustration.

Charlie was having the time of her life.

“Don’t give up!” she cheered from across the room.

Douglas chose his next shot and, with a lot of wine-fuelled courage and Charlie’s urging, she sidled up next to Douglas as he leaned over the table. She bent over behind him and, as he pulled the cue back, she screwed up her courage, leaned in deeper and blew in his ear.

The shot flew wide and she straightened quickly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands as Charlie came over and gave her a whirling, girlie hug.

But her joy faded when Charlie released her and Julia saw the set look in Douglas’s eye.

The gloves, Julia knew immediately, were off. She shivered at the knowledge but she was unsure if her shiver was of dread or anticipation.

Oliver practically tackled Charlie the moment before she took her shot. Charlie yanked Oliver’s cue clean away from him before he took his. And as Julia lined up hers, Charlie coaching her, she concentrated on what Charlie was saying and not what Douglas was doing. She didn’t know where he was, couldn’t see him at all and became so flustered, she jumped several inches when his body settled in behind, beside and above her, surrounding her, it seemed, everywhere. She looked over her shoulder at him as his hands covered hers on the cue.

“Let me,” he whispered in her ear, “show you how it’s done.” Crack went her cue and she potted the ball.

Charlie shouted with glee.

Oliver groaned. “You aren’t supposed to help them!”

Shot after shot, Douglas showed her which to take, helped her line them up and leaned over her, his body warm against hers, his arms around her helping her hold the cue and snapping it against the ball as she (well he, really), potted the rest of the balls on the table.

Charlotte was in throes of ecstasy at “winning” and it was so infectious, even Julia started jumping up and down. Charlie and Julia hugged. Charlie hugged Douglas for helping and then she hugged Oliver for good measure. Swept up in it all and having had way too much to drink, Julia hugged Douglas and kissed him on the cheek.

Not one to miss an opportunity, his arms came quickly around her and, grinning down at her, he muttered, “You can do better than that.”

Having such a good time for the first time in months, and more than slightly tipsy, she lost herself and without hesitation threw her arms around his neck and kissed him smack on the lips.

He leaned into the kiss and made what she intended to be a quick peck something more. Not much but it was harder, longer and more meaningful. Her head shot back when it was over but he didn’t drop his arms.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered.

“Who said I play fair?” he whispered back.

She became aware that the joviality had left the room and she broke free of Douglas’s arms to see Charlie watching her speculatively and Oliver pretending he didn’t notice anything.

“Time for bed, we girls have cooking to do tomorrow.” Charlie, thankfully, waded into the silence. “Goodnight you two,” she said, the couple came forward and hugs were exchanged.

However, Oliver’s was strange and when Julia looked up into his hazel eyes she realised Charlie wasn’t the only one who was speculating about what she saw.

They walked out together, Charlie and Oliver ahead of Douglas and Julia.

Julia stopped in the hall behind the morning room. She would carry on down the back hall while Douglas and the rest went through the morning room and lounge to get to the stairwell.

The other couple went on and she turned to Douglas. “Goodnight.”

He caught her wrist when she started away and pulled her back.

“Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?” he asked and his tone, (dare she believe it?) was almost playful.

“No,” she answered immediately, all of a sudden not in the mood to be playful, all of a sudden sober as a nun and reminded she was not treading cautiously.

He chuckled and pulled her closer anyway. Completely ignoring her change of mood and her answer to his question, he dipped his head and swept his lips against hers.

“You’re,” she couldn’t think of what to say, “too much,” she finished on a hiss.

“Thank you.” His tone was sarcastic and Julia realised that now his mood had changed. He inclined his head, dropped her wrist and started to walk away.

She stopped him by calling his name.

At her call, without hesitation, he turned back.

She bit her lip as she watched him, took in a breath through her nostrils and let her lip go on an exhale.

“That comment, earlier tonight, about Sean was uncalled for,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, you’re nothing like him.”