The Gang picks up my mood, milling around. Archie bounces about, yapping excitedly until Meg snaps at him and he sheers off. Then as the four play at rough-and-tumble under the table, Scruffy joins them and I snap. “Quiet! All of you!”

The dogs subside and assemble under the desk, panting. Ryan stares at me. “Kirstie?”

I shouldn’t have done that.

They’re only enjoying themselves…

Too much wine...

That’s what I tell myself anyway. “I’ll be back in a while. I’m taking the dogs out.”

He starts to rise from the chair. “I’ll keep you company.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s alright.” He stares after me as I exit the study.

Wrapping a thick scarf around my neck and tugging mittens onto hands, I call the dogs and once more they bounce jubilantly after me as I head outdoors.

I gasp at the frigid wall of air as I open the door. The Gang don’t seem to notice, tumbling out into the snow as I carefully pull the door closed behind me.

The icy air and brilliant sunshine are an instant antidote to my ill mood. Around me lies a vast sparkling snowscape, covering grass and shrub and tree, rolling down the mountain to where even the lake lies as a single glistening sheet.

What do I have to be miserable about?

Really?

I pace up and down in the snow, watching the dogs playing, racing around in silly circles, barking joyously.

What’s wrong with me?

Just nerves?

Self-analysis isn’t easy. Sometimes one must face unpleasant truths.

Is it just nerves?

Just anxiety about the biggest purchase I’m ever likely to make?

Or is it more?

Ryan…

I was single for years. Happily so.

And then Ryan appeared in my life.

I love you.

want to

a blur as he excavates a hole, spraying snow backwards

can’t I catch that mood

back of my neck and I

I’m being watched…

Don’t be ridiculous…

Cautiously, I scan around.

Baxter is still out

Is he watching us?

the freakingly fucking obvious

Klempner’s still

the edges of my

His face impassive, Klempner stands at the back of the terrace, leaning against the wall, cradling a steaming mug as

feel a complete idiot. “Oh, sorry. I didn't

not disturbing me. I

wave my hands uselessly,

My what?

I don’t know.

a moment then,

fine. Just a bit… out of sorts.” His brows rise, as though waiting for me to keep

nods slowly, pursing his

that perhaps there’s a reason I’m not the only one outside in the bitter

he out here

“Are you alright?”

smile depreciating, scuffing into the snow with the end of a boot. “Yes, I'm fine too.” Then he straightens up, his smile turning brighter. “No, I'm good. It's just that when I accepted the invitation to Christmas, I didn't really know what to expect. I thought all that…” He waves back

tell the truth, I find it

certainly.

stares down into his mug.

I remember who I'm talking to. That this solitary, silent man, is Lawrence Klempner: murderer, terrorist,

he seems

someone to

who’s not

“What happened?” I ask.

“James invited me to stay for Christmas. You have a

course not. It's their home. They can invite whoever they want. But it's not what I meant. I meant, what happened to you? I mean, you’re Lawrence Klempner…” His lips quirk… “… And yet here you are helping to decorate a tree with Christmas bunnies. You

ill-manners of my question

so I finish…

you expected? Yes, in fact I do only have the one

My cheeks burn…

that you're apt to let your mouth

Oh… Jeez…

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