in a completely impractical shade of cream. Neither were things she would have chosen herself. She tended to wear tunics that covered all the bits of herself that she didn’t like. She tried to reject a soft wool dress with a hint of sparkle, but Catherine insisted it would be perfect for Christmas Day. Her powers of persuasion eclipsed Maggie’s reluctance.
Was this what she’d been like with Rosie choosing a wedding dress?
Maggie took a breath and forced herself to look in the mirror.
“Oh.”
“What?” Catherine opened the door to the changing room. “Well, hello, gorgeous. That sweater is perfect.”
“I don’t usually wear skinny sweaters. I’m too fat.”
“Fat? Don’t be ridiculous. You look fabulous. Although you could lose a couple of inches from your hair. Or maybe we scoop it up into a messy bun—” She slid her fingers into Maggie’s hair, twisted it and secured it with bobby pins extracted from her purse. “I like it. Put some makeup on.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. It’s in your missing suitcase?”
“No, I don’t usually wear much. Lipstick occasionally.”
“You don’t—?” Catherine looked stunned. “We need to fix that. Do you know what we’re going to do together while you’re here? A spa day. Hair. Nails. Makeup. Girly chat. Maybe a glass or two of champagne while we get to know one another better.”
Maggie’s brain was still throbbing from the last glass of champagne. “I’ve never had a spa day.”
“Really?” Catherine went from stunned to faint, but she recovered swiftly. “How do you pamper yourself?”
“Er—I read in the bath?”
“That doesn’t count. I can’t believe you’ve never indulged in a spa day. We’re going to change that.” Catherine flashed her a smile and handed over the coat. “Try this. Your face will look so cute peeping out from the fur.”
Maggie, who was sure she’d never looked cute in her life, put the coat on. “What do you think?”
“Perfect. And it will keep you warm while you’re here. When you go out on the snowmobiles, or for a husky ride, we’ll lend you something more substantial.” She took the coat back. “You don’t need much makeup at all, you have excellent skin. You obviously use sunscreen.”
“I work indoors in a windowless building half the time, so that’s its own kind of sunscreen.”
“I’m starting to understand why you don’t love your job. Now let’s try on a few more things.”
Each outfit Maggie tried, Catherine was there to pass opinion, but to be fair she had a good eye.
Before she could overthink it, Maggie handed over her credit card.
Shopping had never been fun, but this was fun.
Or maybe it was Catherine who was fun.
“What about nightwear? If this is a second honeymoon, then you should dress accordingly.” Catherine studied Maggie for a moment and then grabbed a selection from the rack. “Black would drain you. Try ivory.” She handed over a sliver of silk with straps that crossed at the back.
Maggie had never worn slinky nightwear. The only way to survive Honeysuckle Cottage was by favoring sturdy brushed cotton over silk.
“This isn’t practical.”
“What you wear in the bedroom should never be practical.”
Maggie closed the door and stripped off again.
If she bought this, Nick was going to think she’d gone mad.
She was definitely going to say no.
She eased it over her head and it slid down to midthigh. Maggie stared at herself.
With her hair tousled and her lips red, she looked—she looked—
“Oh boy, oh boy, you look super sexy in that.” Catherine gave a slow smile as she peeped around the door. “Nick will not be able to resist you.”
Maggie was fairly sure Nick had no problems resisting her. If he did, he wouldn’t have moved out. They hadn’t been intimate for—how long? The fact that she couldn’t remember said a lot.
What if he saw the nightdress and thought she was trying to seduce him?
It would be unspeakably awkward.
She did not need a slinky nightdress, and she was going to hand it back to Catherine right this minute.
Keeping it would be nothing short of ridiculous.
Katie
Katie plowed her way through the crowds at the airport. Elbows dug into her ribs and Christmas gifts with sharp corners bruised her legs. A baby howled in misery and she turned instinctively before remembering that his welfare wasn’t her responsibility. She was off duty. Today she wasn’t a doctor. She was just another person going home for the holidays. Except that in her case, this wasn’t her home. And technically she was on sick leave, not vacation.