When he turned, he was wearing that serious expression—the one that created lines between his brows. She laced her fingers together while wishing he would say something. She didn’t deal well with the silent treatment.
Rushing to fill the awkward silence, she said, “I just got caught up in the excitement of the season. When I inquired at the palace about decorating, they sent over their extra ornaments. I never expected them to send so much stuff.”
Demetrius glanced around at the opened boxes. “I think we need to do something about this.”
In all honesty, it was rather a mess. It looked a little like Santa’s workshop except instead of toys there were decorations. She really didn’t want to take down the festive ornaments, but this wasn’t her house. “I’ll have everything put away tonight.”
“Could you hand me that box?”
He was going to help her take down the tree? She thought of putting him off, hoping he’d change his mind. But she didn’t want to push her luck. She quietly handed him the designated box. His fingers brushed over hers as he took it. Her pulse raced. Their gazes met but Zoe glanced away. Things were already complicated enough without making it worse.
In the silence where there once had been festive music, she started closing up the boxes. Perhaps she could fit them in a spare bedroom until she figured out exactly what to do with them.
“I could use a little help over here.”
“Um. Sure.” She closed the lid on another box before turning around. “What do you need?”
“You to help me.” He waved her over to where he was standing near the Christmas tree. “Don’t you think you’ve missed something?”
She was confused. “Oh, you want the tree taken down first?”
He shook his head. “That isn’t what I mean. The tree is only half-decorated. I think you better bring some more of those ornaments over here.”
She stopped, her mouth gaping. He didn’t want to take it all down? Instead, he was going to decorate the tree with her? Really? Maybe somewhere inside him there was still a little bit of the Demetrius she used to know—the one she’d fallen in love with.
A tempting thought crossed her mind. Would it be possible to find that smiling, fun-loving guy again? With a little bit of encouragement, would he let down his guard?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” His dark brows drew together. “Do I have a bit of garland or something in my hair?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Do you really want to help me decorate?”
He shrugged. “Why not? I’m always up for trying something different.”
She grabbed the box with some ceramic ornaments. “You mean you’ve never decorated a Christmas tree before?”
“Not since I was a kid. Professional decorators come in to do the palace decorations. Everything has to be just right for photo ops.”
She tried to envision a life where there were people that decorated your Christmas tree for you. It was so far from her modest lifestyle that it was a difficult concept. Right now, she didn’t even have enough money to get her mother around-the-clock care.
“I guess when you’re the richest man on the island, you can afford to have people do those sort of things for you.”
He straightened. His shoulders took on a rigid line. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. She knew that she’d misspoken. She didn’t mean anything by her comment. She’d just let her guard down and done some thinking out loud. She’d have to be careful going forward.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything—”
“Could you hand me that candy cane ornament?” His gaze didn’t meet hers.
“Um, sure.” She moved to the couch.
She bent over to untangle the red ribbon looped around another ornament. After a bit of maneuvering, she freed it. She straightened and turned in time to find Demetrius staring at her. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before she realized that he was still attracted to her.
“Why don’t you turn on the music you were playing when I interrupted you?” Demetrius hung the candy cane on the tree.
“You mean the Christmas carols?”
He nodded. “Then you can sing some more.”
“Oh, no.” Then she got an idea—a delicious idea. “Not unless you sing with me.”
He waived off the idea. “I don’t sing.”
“Why not?”
He paused as though not quite sure. “It’s not proper.”