LITMIR.BIZ

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brother’s bedroom. “Get your act together, Bro. It’s Christmas Eve,” he yelled, then jumped out of his skin. “Well hello, Maggie! Looks like Santa filled Alex’s stocking a day early.”

      Bleary-eyed, Maggie blinked at the blonde, brown-eyed version of the guy she’d woken up beside. Too hung over to blush she scanned the room for her other hold-up. She nodded at the boarded-up Victorian fireplace.

      “There’s no way Santa’s going to make it down that chimney.”

      Nick grinned. He looked her up and down. “I’d suggest that Alex give Santa a key, but there’s hardly any point.”

      “Quite.” She shrugged. “Since the two of you are going to LA for the holidays.” She bit her lip and wondered idly if there’d be any room in Alex’s bag for a stowaway.

      “And never comin’ back! If things go according to plan.” Nick rubbed his hands together, ostensibly because he was cold, but actually because he couldn’t contain his glee.

      The idea of Alex never coming back to London smarted. “Whose plan?”

      “Mine,” he said smugly.

      “Don’t count on it. You haven’t even had the audition yet.” Nick’s shoulders tightened. He turned his back on Maggie, shuffled a few of his brother’s things about randomly on his desk, more messing than tidying, and turned back abruptly to face her. He opened his mouth to say something. No sound came out. He was holding something back.

      Alex, wearing only boxers, marched into the room, a mug of instant coffee in each hand. Tall and fabulous, he watched Maggie scrabble under the bed for her missing stocking with a suggestive twinkle in his bluer-than-blue eyes.

      “Leaving so soon?”

      “I’ve got a train to catch.” She rolled the second indecently expensive silk stocking up her left leg and set about locating her shoes. Dressed as a sexy Santa in broad daylight on Christmas Eve? At best she looked like a festive kiss-o-gram. At worst? Best not go there.

      “Great party last night. You pulled a cracker.” Nick winked at his twin. “Where’s my coffee?”

      “He can have mine.” Maggie took a mug from Alex’s hand and shoved it at him. A tiny bow wave of milky coffee sloshed onto the threadbare carpet. The hideous pattern camouflaged the spill. Maggie shrugged. She slipped her feet into her sparkly red heels. “Gotta go.”

      Alex pushed a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” He glowered at his brother.

      Nick glanced at the alarm clock on Alex’s bedside table. “Heathrow airport in about an hour.” Everyone’s eyes landed on the unopened foil condom package next to the clock.

      Alex shot Nick a get-lost-now look and handed him the second cup of coffee. “Go and boost your caffeine level somewhere else.”

      Slurping coffee, Nick backed out into the hallway. “Alright, alright, I’m gone already. I can take a hint.” Alex glowered again and closed the door in his face.

      Maggie scoured the messy room. “This place is a bombsite. What happened to my coat?”

      “We lost it.” Alex pulled an apologetic face. “Actually, I think I persuaded you to give it to a homeless guy.”

      Maggie groaned. “Thanks for that.” Her head still hurt. The previous night’s sequence of events was coming back to her. She didn’t mind about the coat. It was a much-too-big impulse buy. Like much of her eclectic wardrobe it had come from a vintage shop. She’d only worn it because it drowned her enough to cover up her Sexy Santa outfit. Anyway, she and Alex had had a cozy room to go back to, whilst the guy on the street faced a bitterly cold night in a shop doorway with nothing but a sleeping bag and a makeshift cardboard tent. Alex had given him directions to a shelter, but he’d refused to go because he had a little scruffy dog with him. “She’s all the family I have,” he’d said. “They won’t let me bring her in.” She hoped her extra-large winter coat had helped the two of them keep warm.

      He picked his sweater up off the floor. “Borrow this.” She struggled into it. He dragged a preppy-ish scarf from under a pile of play scripts and clutter. He wrapped it around her neck, pausing to caress her nape.

      His warm, firm touch put her into a reverie. It had been the weirdest night. Alex’s mood had been hyper. Hadn’t he stolen her antlers and performed a rendition of “Rudolph the Red- Nosed Reindeer” in the queue for the night bus? She vaguely remembered a “Jingle Bells” sing-along with the passengers on the top deck. Alex had been economical with the details even before they’d downed a festive quantity of alcohol, but something had happened with his dad.

      From what Maggie could tell, he and Nick didn’t see much of their actor father, but he’d come out with some scathing remarks in a newspaper interview about disowning his sons because their mother wanted them to audition for an American television drama. “A vampire is the last part on earth I’d choose for myself!” and “I wouldn’t do Mercy of the Vampires if my life depended on it!” were the quotes from the “doyen of serious drama” that had upset Alex. The jibes said more about the legendary Drake Wells than his sons, and were most probably calculated to annoy his soap diva ex-wife, Maggie reckoned, but she could tell Alex was hurt. Having famous parents who were unabashed when it came to splashing their lives across the tabloids had to be hideous. No wonder he was stand-offish. So much so that when she’d first met him she’d thought he hadn’t liked her at first. She’d been wrong on that one. Oh. So. Wrong.

      “So…” His lovely rumbly voice filled the awkward silence. “Christmas with Grandma. How is the old dragon?”

      “She’d have your …” She fired a twinkly look downwards. “…you-know-whats for Christmas-tree baubles if she knew about last night!”

      “Um. Yeah. About last night …” Alex felled her with a sexy smile. “Rain check?”

      “Sure.” She pictured the “Tube journey of shame” that lay ahead. Technically, she didn’t actually have anything to be ashamed of. More’s the pity.

      Alex pulled her close and forked his fingers into her hair. “Happy Christmas, Babe.” His lips touched hers lightly, then he gathered her into his hold and deepened the kiss as if he’d never let her go. Head in a spin, her heart cartwheeled. This was it! They were tipping over the edge from friends into … What? She couldn’t be sure what all of this meant. She and Alex had become fast friends when she’d moved to London to study fashion. They’d known each other for about a year, been part of a big group of artsy, thespiany students who hung out and went to the same parties. She’d kind of got close to him, as close as anyone could, given how aloof he could be. And, of course, she fancied him. Didn’t everyone? In all honesty she’d been a teeny bit in love with him since the moment she’d first set eyes on him. She’d reconciled the feelings she had for her friend to being just the stuff of crushes, and then, bam! Practically out of nowhere it had flared up last night. She’d accidentally-on-purpose missed the last Tube home, and all of a sudden she had butterflies in her stomach and her head and her heart were in a lovely befuddled muddle.

       What if he’s The One?

      She wished he didn’t have to go. He had to spend Christmas with his crazy, mixed-up mother in LA. The Hollywood drama queen with the checkered past was at the top of her game, and about to pull off the nepotistic coup of landing her twin sons leading roles in a new vampire drama. Hence the furore with their disapproving father. Alex was stuck. She felt for him. Devoted to Nick and their mother, he’d walk through flames not to let either of them down. Even though he hated his father for publicly lambasting the family, he badly wanted to please him. Getting him to talk about it was impossible. Alex puzzled Maggie. He was positively taciturn about his dad. What she’d figured out was mostly guesswork.

      Blow all that. She didn’t want to think about it. She had faith in Alex. He wouldn’t drop out of drama school. He wouldn’t stay in LA. He wanted to be a serious actor. Maybe direct. That

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