Read Christmas Holiday Husband Online

Authors: Kris Pearson

Tags: #kris pearson, #new zealand setting, #contemporary adult romance, #romances that sizzle, #secret child, #holiday romance

Christmas Holiday Husband (6 page)

BOOK: Christmas Holiday Husband
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But had she any idea she’d sought his tongue with her own as he kissed her? That instead of attempting to push him away, she’d grabbed the front of his shirt and held him close? He suspected not—for she’d reverted to her ice-maiden persona the instant he’d released her. She’d been a rather flushed ice-maiden though. If he applied a little heat, might she melt?

He slipped his shirt buttons undone as he pictured her curled up on her bed, perhaps studying a textbook on first-level reading. She’d liked his body once; hopefully he could tempt her again.

He leaned outside to check if her door was open.

Not only were the soft voile curtains billowing in the slight breeze, but she’d dragged one of the outdoor chairs into the pool of light on the big balcony. As he’d imagined, she was immersed in a book.

He stepped out, quickly hefting a low timber table across to where she sat. He set it in front of her, straddled it and then trapped her legs between his own as he sank down.

“Privacy at last,” he said.

xxx

Ellie drew a sharp breath—half fright, half anticipation. Some sort of showdown had been in the air all day. At least he had the sense to make sure they were unobserved and unheard; she was grateful for that.

She met his eyes, imploring him to leave her alone but knowing there was little chance of it, then dropped her gaze to his shadowy warm chest. The light from her room spilled across him, casting him into bronze. She longed to reach over and push the loose shirt back off his shoulders so she could once again see the body that had given her so much pleasure. How had he changed? He was obviously still lean and muscular—although it was now a much more mature body, and honed to perfection by ten more years of hard physical work.

Her fingers itched to touch and stroke and slide over his skin. She dug her nails into her palms, balling her hands into tight fists to resist the temptation.

Their eyes locked again. “What’s wrong, Ellie?”

She shook her head. “Nothing at all.”

“Pull the other one. You’re pushing me away as though I’m poison. Why?”

“There’s
nothing
wrong,” she insisted, trying to keep her voice calm, even though her heart lurched along unevenly. “It’s wonderful to see you—such a surprise. But it puts me in a strange position, being here to work for you. That’s all.”

She tried to pull away, but he had her ankles firmly trapped between his iron-strong legs.

“We’re going to sit here until you stop shying away from me,” he said. “What are you scared of?”

“Not you.”

“Us?”

“There’s no ‘us’ to even consider.” Ellie knew her face had flooded with heat, and was grateful the light was behind her so Tony saw nothing of the blush.

But then he shrugged his shirt off and tossed it onto one of the other chairs. “Hot, isn’t it...” he murmured.

Ellie’s gaze fastened on his broad shoulders and strong hair-hazed chest.

He took a deep breath and stretched a little. The light glanced off his smooth abdomen and trim waist.

He was more of a man in every way now. The high spirited young man had gone, leaving a virile masculine predator in a potently attractive package. If her fingers had not been so tightly clenched they’d now be exploring his delicious contours...caressing the hard planes of his intoxicating body.

“It’s still me, Ellie. Look at me. Talk to me.”

She shook her head, biting down hard on her bottom lip.

“You’ll hurt yourself. Don’t
do
that,” he admonished, reaching over and cupping her face in his warm hands, just as he’d done at breakfast time.

He was far too close! Ellie squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to pull away, but Tony sent his fingers sliding around the back of her head to play in her hair and caress the skin of her nape.

“You’re so lovely,” he said. “The magic’s still there for me. Not you?” Finally she opened her eyes again to find him watching intently. She parted her lips to reply with something—anything—to make him go away. No words came.

“No husband...” Tony said. “But maybe there’s someone else—yes?”

Ellie swallowed and nodded. Let him think that. For of course there was Cal. Definitely someone else. “I do have another commitment,” she murmured, hoping he’d take the hint and leave her alone.

“Serious?”


I
think so.”

He gave a slow nod. “Only
think
so?” he queried. “So all is not quite lost?” His beautiful mouth quirked with mischief.

Ellie froze as he leaned closer. The hands that had been playing in her hair tipped her face up toward his, holding her captive.

“No, don’t do this,” she managed.

“Oh yes, Ellie. You’re on my territory now. He can’t lay claim to you here. And I would enjoy so much to know you again.” His mouth brushed over hers, warm as sunshine, soft as thistledown. It was the gentlest of seductions.

She tried to say ‘No, Tony’ but the words went missing, erased from her brain by the insistent gentle pressure of his lips claiming hers, lifting away, settling again. Slowly she pushed her hands up around his neck, feeling intense pleasure as the sensitive undersides of her arms slid over the skin of his shoulders. She drew him close, revelling in his warmth and strength, discovering again the unique heady fragrance and the dark-chocolate taste of him.

In return, his big hands smoothed down her back, slipped under her T-shirt, and circled her waist to pull her hard against him. It was almost too much to bear—to be in his arms again after all these years—to feel his beloved skin against hers. How much closer to paradise had she ever flown?

And then his tongue stabbed between her lips and she responded helplessly, sliding into the sensuous dance as though their last embrace had been mere minutes ago instead of all that empty aching time. Soon she was breathless, gasping for air. Eleven long years seemed like nothing. Her nipples pressed bullet-hard against his chest. His erection jutted so fiercely that the layers of tough blue denim between their bodies may as well have been tissue paper. Nothing could disguise his readiness to take her again.

And everything she now risked hit her in a rush. Commonsense crashed down in a chilling, drenching wave. If she allowed Tony into her room he’d see Cal’s photograph, and then there’d be hell to pay.

Either he’d assume she’d tracked him down to claim money for Cal’s support, with all the wretched recriminations, blame and bitterness that would cause. Or he’d demand to meet the boy who looked so like him, and to share in his life.

She knew the inevitable end to that. Tony’s engaging personality would seduce her son as easily as he’d seduced her. He’d steal Cal away in the blink of an eye, leaving her bereft of the greatest love in her life. Sick with horror, she pulled back, desperate to escape either danger.

Tony rose with her, confining her against him, shoving her chair aside with his hip, nudging her into the doorway of her room.

“No, Tony!” she gasped, writhing to be free. For Cal’s photograph stood beside her bed. And much as she might want his father, she’d never compromise herself by letting Tony think she was after his money.

And she’d certainly not upset Cal by producing his father out of thin air, having claimed years ago he’d died and could never return. More than anything in her life, she dared not risk losing her son’s unquestioning love.

She struggled and panted. “This is way too fast,” she insisted. “This is terrible. Julia’s hardly dead.” She grasped at every excuse she could find, pushing him back with both hands on his shoulders.

“Julia’s been dead to me for the last couple of years,” he said hoarsely. “Things hadn’t been good...for a long time. We were simply keeping on with the pretence for the girls. Her illness had nothing to do with it.” He still had her clamped in his arms. Ellie wriggled and shoved, heart pounding, dragging in shallow breaths against his total domination.

And he released her. It was like being tossed into iced water.

“Your choice,” he said, backing away.

She nodded, eyes dilated, pulse racing, trying to regain her balance on trembling legs.

“I meant what I said about Julia,” he repeated. “She’s not an issue.”

“If you say so.” Relief and disappointment rushed through her in equal measure at his sudden desertion.

He took another step backward. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. About ten. Wear some shorts and a sunhat. Sleep well.”

The last two words were almost a curse. He’d dismissed her, condemning her to a dream-wracked night with no peace at all.

Ellie watched him catch up the shirt and turn away. The lamplight slid across the planes of his long back as he walked away. The restless curtains flicked out with the breeze, as though to draw him back. But he’d gone.

Moments later she heard his footfall in the gallery, then the rapid tattoo of his feet as he descended the stairs.

xxx

Tony threw himself down onto the sofa again. Hot waves of frustration washed through his body. He wanted her. He’d nearly had her. He wanted her fiercely, after all this time. And although she’d responded to him—as avidly as he had to her—she was still just in control of her emotions. Only just. That gave him hope, anyway.

But his body burned for hers—ready to claim her and make her his again. In one short day she’d set her claws delicately into him, tugged, then turned away. Had she any idea how close he’d come to losing it? Her power was unlimited.

He compressed his lips into a grim line and resigned himself to out-wait the heat sizzling through every cell in his body.

xxx

Now back from settling the girls for the night, Ginny glanced across at him and then resumed her crossword. Something was eating at him—or someone! She was fond of her spirited son-in-law. He’d offered her a new home when she’d been suddenly widowed...made her feel truly welcome...invited her to carve out a different life on his beautiful property when neither of her sons seemed much concerned about her future. She was now temporary chatelaine of Wharemoana, and cherished her role.

Living close to her daughter and grandchildren was a bonus she’d treasured, but oddly it was her new sense of self worth that had buoyed her up during the last sad months as Julia slipped away.

And being in such proximity, it had become obvious there was little true affection left in her daughter’s marriage. Ginny had never commented...never dared to ask questions in case the answers were too unpalatable to bear. She’d loved Julia unreservedly—had been devastated when her condition was diagnosed—but saw that Robbie had been lost and lonely, too.

Ellie was rattling the bars of his cage.
Damn
, Ginny thought.
He’s making a play for the first available girl who’s appeared. I know it’s inevitable sometime in the future, but this is much too soon. He’s setting himself up to get hurt again while he’s still far too vulnerable.

“More coffee, Robbie?” she asked.

He gave a moody shake of his head.

“Ellie says she’s looking forward to moving into her new house once the twins start school.”

“Mmmm,” he grunted, which could have meant anything.

Ginny gave up the unequal battle and turned her energies toward solving twenty-seven across.

CHAPTER
FIVE

 

“Oh, Cal!” Ellie groaned, surfacing into bright sunshine next morning. She’d tossed all night, and somewhere near dawn fallen headlong into leaden sleep. It was all she could do to drag her head off the luxurious down filled pillow. Cal laughed at her from beside the bed; lively, full of mischief, and achingly far away.

All night long her body had burned and her brain had fizzed with memories of meeting Tony. It had been a warm spring day in Sydney. Her first, and only, time away from New Zealand. She and Mags had stopped a day and night with Maggie’s sister in Wellington, and then flown to Australia for a week’s bargain shopping and sightseeing. If Wellington had seemed big, Sydney was huge to a small-town girl.

And there, by the pool at the hotel, she saw Tony, working as a labourer on a building job. Shirtless, tanned, and with skin she’d wanted to stroke from fifty feet away. He wore low-slung denim shorts and brown elastic sided builder’s boots. Thick socks were neatly cuffed around his ankles, below perfect calf muscles and spectacular long strong thighs. Ellie had put her sunglasses on so he wouldn’t catch her looking, and then she’d gazed to her heart’s content.

Not just at the legs, which were undoubtedly worth at least eleven out of ten, but at all the rest of him, too. He was breaking up a slab of concrete with a sledgehammer—going at it like a demon—swinging the heavy tool up into the blue sky with no apparent effort and crashing it down with obvious satisfaction.

Each time he swung, his long arms and broad shoulders tensed and thickened. The dark hair in his armpits curled with sweat. His chest gleamed. And when he turned to attack the slab from a different angle, Ellie had been captivated by the play of muscles on his back. They slid across each other, the sun dancing on their sheened surfaces.

BOOK: Christmas Holiday Husband
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