Christmas at Pendragon (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  Christmas at Pendragon

  Pendragon, a place that was straight out of a gothic novel, as was the owner Goran. Hannah Darling, single, young, and inexperienced, fell instantly in love with this charismatic, smouldering stranger who stalked into her life like a panther. But this was real life, not a romantic novel or a Hollywood movie, and tall, dark, handsome men who lived in castles didn’t fall in love with little nobodies who worked for their living. However, Christmas was a time when magic was at its strongest, when wonders became manifest and when dreams could come true.

  As the snow silently fell, covering the wild Cornish countryside with a thick, white blanket, danger shadowed Hannah’s footsteps. Would she be able to survive the season of goodwill? And would Professor Goran Pendragon, the man of her dreams, really be her yearned for present under the Christmas tree?

  Genre: Contemporary

  Length: 38,733 words

  CHRISTMAS AT PENDRAGON

  Rosemary J. Anderson

  ROMANCE

  www.BookStrand.com

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  A SIREN-BOOKSTRAND TITLE

  IMPRINT: Romance

  CHRISTMAS AT PENDRAGON

  Copyright © 2014 by Rosemary J. Anderson

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-622-3

  First E-book Publication: December 2014

  Cover design by Christine Kirchoff

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to my dear friend Esme Miskimmin, who wanted me to write a Christmas romance. This one is written with you in mind, my friend…

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  CHRISTMAS AT PENDRAGON

  ROSEMARY J. ANDERSON

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Pendragon! Hannah stared up at the towering turrets awestruck. It was dark, the moon obscured by the snow that was falling thick and fast. Barren trees standing like sentinels were a perfect backdrop for the wild, rugged structure of the building. Pendragon was more like a small castle than a house, and its dark stone walls reminded her of a fortress, made to keep people out. A shiver ran up her spine. The house seemed enigmatic, if houses could be enigmatic. The small windows were stained glass and full of shadows hiding who knows what. The whole scene was like a setting for a horror film, the darkness, the castle, and a wild and stormy night where the hapless victim caught out in the cold followed the lights shining from the old house to her doom. Another shiver ran up Hannah’s spine, shaking her limbs and causing goose bumps to rise on her flesh. The taxi leaving brought her back to reality, and as it swung around she wanted to shout to the driver to stop and take her back to the relative security of the railway station.

  Drawing a deep breath, Hannah picked up her suitcase, pulled the hood of her jacket up over her wildly blowing hair, and crunched her way through the thick snow to the door.

  The door was massive, black with metal hinges, a large shiny brass knocker in the shape of a dragon and an old copper-plate sign depicting a fire-breathing dragon under which was just one word—Pendragon! Feeling as if she was about to enter the ogre’s castle, she lifted the knocker and let it fall. The sound echoed eerily, and it was then she very nearly turned tail and ran.

  But it was too late, the door was already opening.

  Swallowing hard Hannah looked at the small man who had opened the door, and exhaling slowly gave a tremulous smile. What on earth had she been worrying about? The man was kindly looking with a mass of white hair and twinkling eyes. Nothing too terrifying here.

  “Mr Pendragon?” she asked with a surge of relief.

  “No, Miss, are you expected?”

  The feeling of doom came flooding back. “Oh, err, yes, my name’s Hannah Darling. I’ve been engaged as Mr. Pendragon’s assistant.”

  The man stepped back from the door and opened it wider.

  “Come in, Miss, I believe the Master is expecting you.”

  Hannah stepped apprehensively through the doorway. The door shut with an echoing boom and her nerves returned tenfold as she fought the desire to flee.

  The hall she had entered was imposing, and it was if she were stepping back in time. It was huge, with a ceiling that seemed to stretch to heaven itself. Wood-panelled walls were hung with fabulous paintings and tapestries. A stone floor, the middle of which was covered with a crimson carpet the colour of blood, meandered its way from the door to the open-plan staircase and upwards. Hannah’s gaze followed the carpet, making a fleeting mental note of the small tables set against the walls, the massive wooden chair made for a giant, and the heavy cut crystal chandelier that swung from a high plastered ceiling. The staircase was like something out of a Hollywood film, the kind a lady in a slinky sliver dress glided down, her hand lightly caressing the imposing carved banister.

  It was then her gaze was caught and held by the man descending from the gallery. His tread was firm and uncompromising as he stepped slowly down the remaining stairs. Hannah gulped and her stomach muscles tightened as those nerves came back, feeling similar to the demented fluttering of a moth’s wings to a flame.

  The man was gorgeous. Around thirty-two, she guessed, tall, olive-skinned, black-haired, with a chiselled jaw and searing blue eyes. He walked, no stalked
like a Panther, his lissom hips perfectly attuned to the rest of his body. Hannah could feel the heat wash up into her cheeks at his discerning look, and it was as if his eyes could see into her very soul. Dressed all in black he was a perfect specimen of manhood and to Hannah’s imaginative soul, he was the living embodiment of a vampire!

  “Miss Darling, I presume?”

  Hannah nodded feeling heat rush up her throat and into her face. A shiver of delight ran like icy fingers up and down her spine, and the small, barely visible hairs at the nape of her neck stood to attention. His voice was mesmerising, soft, but deep like thick, dark chocolate.

  “Miss Darling,” he repeated a trifle impatiently.

  Here was a man that expected instant attention. Snapping her mouth shut, her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

  “Oh, oh I’m sorry, I was, err, I was…”

  His eyes gleamed and his lips twisted cynically as her words trailed off into oblivion.

  Quickly pulling herself together Hannah held out a shaking hand.

  “Oh sorry, yes, I’m Hannah Darling, the agency sent me.”

  “You’re late.” He growled, his hand enfolding hers sending her pulse rate soaring.

  Well really, did he think she didn’t know that? Of course she was late, getting from Oxfordshire to Cornwall was no easy feat considering the weather.

  “Yes, the trains you know.”

  “No I don’t know, but no matter. Henry.” He nodded to the man who had opened the door and who was now standing patiently to one side. “Will show you to your room.” Glancing at the gold Rolex on his wrist he indicated a door opposite. “You have thirty minutes to…” His gaze racked her person. “Refresh yourself and then I expect you to join me in the study.”

  “Oh, thank you, but…”

  Already striding to the study he halted at her stuttered words.

  “Yes.” He growled without turning.

  “Umm, it’s just I need to phone the agency, just to, well, let them know I’ve arrived.”

  “The telephone lines are down.” He turned to stare at her. “Thirty minutes, Miss Darling.”

  “Well!” She breathed, watching as he shut the study door behind him. “Could he get any ruder?”

  “This way, Miss.”

  Jumping at the light touch on her arm she bit her lip in frustration, and casting one last disgruntled look at the closed door, followed Henry up the stairs. She really could have done with a cup of tea, but obviously that was out of the question.

  Trailing behind Henry, Hannah’s gaze darted here and there in an attempt to see everything at once. The place was magnificent. Beautiful paintings adorned the walls, silk drapes framed the small iconic windows, thick pure, wool carpets felt soft underfoot, and the furniture was surely antique.

  Opening a door off the mezzanine floor Henry stood to one side allowing her to enter the room before him.

  “Your bathroom is to the right, Miss. Dinner is at eight and if there is anything you want just pull the cord.” He indicated an old-fashioned bell pull beside the bed.

  Swinging around from peering out of the window she contained her excitement and gave a slight smile.

  “Oh thank you, Henry.”

  Waiting until the door closed behind the manservant, she turned to explore her room. Everything in this house—nay, castle—was larger than life, and elegant. The bed was king-size and a four poster, draped with white voile curtains. The bedspread was a gold and red tapestry that looked almost medieval and which matched the curtains at the stained glass window. The carpet underfoot was cream and her feet sank luxuriously into its deep pile. The furniture, she was sure, was rosewood. A magnificent double wardrobe with matching dressing table and bedside cabinets graced the room, and by the window a couple of Hepplewhite chairs and small lamp table added that touch of elegance. The room was amazing and her whole bedsit could have fit into it with space to spare.

  Throwing herself down on the bed, she smiled in sublime contentment. This is what it felt like to be rich she supposed. Comfort at every turn and every whim just a wish away. She gazed up at the floaty curtains above the bed, Christmas at Pendragon, it sounded positively decadent. Quickly returning to reality she glanced at her watch and scrambled rather inelegantly off the bed. Rummaging in her bag she pulled out her mobile phone. Moving around the room she attempted to get a signal but it was no use, so throwing it down off the bed in disgust she made haste to the bathroom. It wouldn’t do to be late again. Her employer was obviously not a patient man.

  Twenty-five minutes later Hannah was making her way down the stairs, her hand running lightly over the highly polished wood of the curving banister. Tension tightened her nerves and quickened her pulse, and butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach. The brooding, smouldering Goran Pendragon wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. When the agency had contacted her asking if she was available to act as assistant to a famous astrophysicist from October to January she’d jumped at the chance. Being alone in the world, with very little money and living in a grotty bedsit didn’t make for a wonderful Christmas, but she’d never imagined someone so, so…

  She sighed. So beautiful! She’d envisaged the archetypical fluffy absent-minded professor with white hair and spectacles, not an uncompromising, charismatic individual with come-to-bed eyes and a cynical sneer.

  She couldn’t put it off any longer so with a telltale giveaway of shaking fingers Hannah knocked on the study door.

  “Come!”

  Taking a deep breath she reached out and turned the handle. The door swung open and there he was the very embodiment of a fallen angel. Standing in front of a brightly burning fire with his back to the door he was flanked on either side by two huge dogs, breeds she recognised as an Irish wolfhound and a Leon Berger. Moving silently into the room she stood near his paper-strewn desk waiting to be noticed, her shaking hands hidden behind her back.

  As he swivelled to face her, the dogs rose to sit patiently at his side like satanic dogs of the underworld. The firelight cast shadows across the side of his face, plunging his expression into darkness. Hannah absently thought that all Goran Pendragon needed was a black cloak lined with scarlet and he would definitely look the part of an immortal.

  Chapter Two

  Goran Pendragon stared silently at Hannah, taking stock. She was younger than he expected, around twenty-two and beautiful in a girl-next-door kind of way. Her hair was long and wavy but caught up into some kind of plat and it was red, not auburn or chestnut, but red! Her heart-shaped face was brought to life by the weirdest violet eyes he’d ever seen framed by long luxurious lashes. Her skin was clear, almost translucent, her makeup understated. Petite yet full breasted, she was utterly and uniquely feminine.

  “I’ve read your references. They are excellent, but I notice you’ve never undertaken work in the scientific field before, so how do you think you’ll cope?”

  Hannah swallowed, her mouth drying in nervous tension.

  “Fine, I, what I mean is, I think I’ll be fine. Err, I’ve experience in all types of secretarial work, so I think I’ll manage.”

  “This book, Miss Darling, is a lifetime’s work and I need to know that you’ll be more than fine. I need someone who’s efficient, who doesn’t mind long hours, and who’s not going to keep bothering me because she can’t understand what I’ve written or can’t spell what I’ve dictated.”

  “I can assure you, Mr. Pendragon, that…”

  “Goran or Pendragon.”

  “W-what?”

  He sighed impatiently. “Call me Goran or Pendragon, I don’t mind which, but not Mr.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, in that case call me Hannah.” She waited and he stared silently at her. Embarrassed by his lack of response, she quickly began to talk.

  “Oh, emm, as I was saying. I can assure you Mr.—Goran...” Saying his name increased the fluttering in her stomach. “That I’m perfectly able to cope with whatever you care to bring me and, it’s not my nature to go running to my e
mployer unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Good, as long as we understand each other. I appreciate efficiency, dedication and devotion to the work, if you can apply yourself to those traits we will get along fine. Now as to working hours, you will be here ready to start work at 0700 hours. I work late and start early.” He raised a satanic eyebrow. “You are prepared for that I take it?”

  Hannah, her heart sinking, decided what Goran Pendragon wanted was a veritable paragon, not some ditsy little secretary with a heart full of romance and a pocket full of peppermints. But she crossed her fingers behind her back and nodded.

  “Oh absolutely,” she said with fabricated confidence.

  Staring at her for a few seconds more, he apparently was reassured.

  “Good. Drink?”

  “W-what?” She blinked, confused.

  “A drink? Do you want a drink?” he asked as if talking to a two-year-old.

  “Oh, yes thank you, umm, a white wine if you have one.”

  With a flick of his hand he indicated for her to sit and passed her the drink.

  Perching nervously on the edge of a fragile-looking chair, she watched as he took a seat opposite.

  Quickly taking a gulp of the wine she tried not to show her distaste. She hated alcohol, but not wanting to appear unsophisticated or backward she’d asked for the first thing that came to mind and God—it was vile!

  “Tell me about yourself?”

  “W—what?”

  Goran sighed impatiently. “Do you answer every question with a stuttered what?”

  “Oh,, no, sorry I’m just tired I guess.”

  Leaning indolently back in his seat with the dogs once again at his feet, Goran’s gaze never wavered. A minute passed, a long never-ending clock-ticking minute. Before gathering her wits, Hannah realised he was still waiting for her to answer his first question.