I do understand. My parents are the same—they’ve dropped hints about grandkids and asked when I’m finally going to settle down.
“I get it,” I say. “So Brock knows what happened?”
She nods. “Clio called him because Connor kept coming around the apartment, begging me to have him back. He wouldn’t leave me alone. Clio told Dad everything, and he called the police, and they paid Connor a visit. He stopped harassing me after that. Connor, I mean. Dad still nags me.” She gives a weak smile.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “That you had to go through all that. I was so angry when I found out. I wanted to beat him to a pulp.”
She leans on the table. “Thank you.” Her eyelids have fallen to half-mast, from the alcohol and tiredness. Her lips are free of lipstick, and look soft and kissable.
“The stationery cupboard?” I murmur.
She laughs. “The first thing that came into my mind.”
“It’s very small.”
“We’d have to mind the staples.”
We both smile.
“Are you ready for bed?” I ask. Her eyes widen. “To sleep,” I scold. “You bad girl.”
She grins. “Yeah. Come on.”
We finish our drinks and make our way back to our seats. Before long, we’ve converted them to flat beds, and the flight attendant brings over pillows and blankets and ensures we’re comfortable.
Jules hasn’t pulled up the dividing panel, and so when I turn my head, I can see her brown eyes in the semi-darkness, watching me.
She reaches out a hand, and I brush my fingers against hers.
We fall asleep, our hands an inch apart.
Chapter Five
Jules
We land at Rovaniemi airport at 10:35 p.m. local time the following day.
It’s been a long, somewhat exhausting journey, although most of us have slept a good bit of the way. But despite that, everyone is in high spirits, including me.
I go down the steps from the plane onto the tarmac, shivering as the icy wind hits me. Ooh! I shove my hands in the pockets of the padded jacket with fur trim I treated myself to for this vacation. The weather couldn’t be any more different from the sub-tropical Bay of Islands.
I couldn’t see much from my seat on the plane, but I read the article in the in-flight guide on the plane. Rovaniemi is the administrative capital of Lapland, Finland’s northernmost province, just south of the Arctic Circle. The sun barely gets above the horizon in winter, and it only averages six or so minutes of sunshine daily during December. A sign above the airport states it’s minus nine degrees Celsius, or fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Holy shit! No wonder I feel cold!
The roads and paths around the airport are covered with snow, and I look at Clio and we both laugh. Snow! I’ve only ever seen snow once, when I went to Queenstown with my folks one winter. A bubble of excitement rises inside me. Whatever I think about Christmas, I am looking forward to spending time here in such a different setting.
My gaze slides across to the guy currently striding across the tarmac toward the airport building, talking to Noah, his shoulders hunched against the cold. My rising pleasure has nothing to do with the fact that Stefan and I have made up. Nothing at all.
Oh, who am I kidding? It has everything to do with it. I still haven’t forgotten what he said that night. But I’m a big enough person to have forgiven him. His words were heartfelt, and I know him well enough to understand that he thought he was doing the right thing.
My mind’s still in a whirl from the things he said. How he thinks about the color of my hair, and what it would look like spread out on a pillow…
He wants me. Those three words have been circling around in my head for the last thirty hours.
I know I mustn’t focus on them. He’s made it very clear he’s not going to act on them.
Still makes me feel good, though.
“Ooh!” Poppy’s walking beside me, and her eyes widen as the breeze blows across us, slicing through our clothes. “I’d forgotten what it was like to feel this cold!”
“Gives us an excuse to cuddle up under the covers,” Fitz tells her, putting his arm around her and squeezing her shoulders.
“Like you two need an excuse.” I roll my eyes. I’m going to feel like a fifth wheel this vacation, surrounded by snugly couples. For the first time, though, I don’t mind so much. I’ve only seen a couple of snow-covered roads, but I already know I’m going to like it here. While everyone else makes out in front of a roaring fire, I’m going to get out and about and explore.
We enter the airport, collect our bags, and then head out of the building. This is where we get our next surprise of the day. We’re all expecting to see taxis waiting for us, or maybe a couple of minibuses.
Instead, across the road in the thick snow, six large sleighs drawn by six pairs of reindeers are lined up out the front. A guide at the front holds a sign that says, “The King Family.”
We all cheer, and Noah starts laughing. “Eva said she’d do it,” he says, “but I thought she was joking.”
“These are for us?” Abby’s face is a picture. She looks at Ethan, sound asleep tucked up in the carrier that Noah’s wearing against his chest, and tugs the baby’s hat down over his little ears. “Aw, we’ll have to come back when he’s old enough to remember it, Noah.”
“Definitely,” he says, leading the way toward the nearest sleigh. Two guys are waiting ready to load our cases onto the backs of the sleighs, and we start helping them, lifting the cases and backpacks and strapping them in, then climbing inside.
There are two benches in the sleighs, one facing forward, one backward, each of which seats two people. I’m not surprised when Stefan hefts his case onto the back, then pulls himself up beside me. With everyone else in pairs, it looks as if we’re going to be thrown together frequently on this vacation.
Well, I’m not going to complain.
Hal and Izzy are sitting on the seat opposite, and Stefan lowers down beside me.
“The sleigh has bells,” I announce. “There are real sleigh bells!”
He laughs and reaches up a hand to jangle them. “I suppose if anything is going to get us in the Christmas mood, this is it.”
“I’m glad to see you two made up,” Hal says. He has his arm around Izzy, and she leans her head on his shoulder, smiling at us.
“Me too,” she says.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Stefan scolds them. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“Of course not.” Hal’s eyes meet mine, though, and they glimmer with amusement. He doesn’t say anything, but I know something’s going through his mind. No doubt I’ll find out later.
The drivers finish loading the cases and begin climbing on the front of the sleighs, and then it’s time to depart. Ours flicks his reins, the reindeer move forward, and then we’re off.
I can’t believe I’m on a reindeer-drawn sleigh in Lapland. I lift my hood up, pulling the fur close around my ears, thankful for the thick possum-fur gloves I purchased before I left, and settle back to enjoy the ride.
We head out of the airport, avoiding the road and instead taking a lane that heads across the fields, north through the thick snow. Tall firs line the way, interspersed with lampposts, their light turning the snow to flakes of gold.
“I think we’re in Narnia,” I comment, remembering the scene where the children emerge from the wardrobe into the snowy forest.
“If we see Mr. Tumnus, I want a selfie with him,” Stefan replies.
I grin at him. “You’ve read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?”
“Of course. And all the others in the series. They were some of my favorite books when I was a kid.”
For some reason, that makes me inexplicably happy. “I loved them all, too.”
“She used to ask our dog to wag his tail if he came from Narnia,” Hal says. “Apparently he did, every time.”
“You were such a cute kid.” Stefan smiles at me. “Always wanting to run with the
boys. And usually beating them.”
It’s true that I’m a pretty good sprinter, and I used to frustrate the guys by being able to beat them at short distances.
“I still can’t believe you turned down a trial for the Silver Ferns,” Hal says.
Stefan and Izzy stare at me. “What?” Izzy says.
Hal looks at them, pulls an ‘eek’ face, and says, “Ah. Sorry Jules, I forgot nobody else knows.”
The other two are still staring at me, astounded. I look out across the wintry landscape, into the dark woods. “Around five years ago now, at a national tournament in Wellington, I was approached by a scout. She asked me to come and trial for the Ferns.” The Silver Ferns are New Zealand’s national netball team.
“And you didn’t go?” Stefan asks.
I shake my head.
“Why not?” he persists.
“The Ark was just opening. I was excited to be a part of it, and I didn’t really want to travel.”
It’s part of the story. I don’t tell him that some of the reason was that I was aware everyone was coming back to the Ark, and I knew I’d be able to spend more time with him. Even then, I was hopeful we’d end up together. Jesus, how many years have I wasted dreaming about this guy? And all for it to end in one or two sentences?
My previous bubbly mood dissipates somewhat, and I fall quiet and leave the conversation to the others, as the sleigh crosses the fields. They talk about the flight and discuss what they think the accommodation is going to be like, without pressing me further, to my relief.
Someone had placed blankets on the seats, and when I start shivering, Stefan retrieves one, shakes it out, and places it over my legs.
“Thanks.” I pull the hood of my jacket close around my face. I think I’m just tired, exhausted from all the traveling. I could do with a hot bath, a stiff drink, and a good night’s sleep.
Luckily, it’s not far from the complex. Within fifteen minutes, we emerge from the trees and all gasp as the village appears before us. It’s nearly eleven now, but the place is still busy, glowing in the darkness.
The road leads up to the main entrance—a pair of double gates topped by an arch with the name Santa’s Secret Village in wrought iron, threaded with colored fairy lights. I’d been convinced the whole place was going to feel extremely quaint and sentimental, and no doubt there will be some of that, but I can’t deny a thrill of excitement as the sleighs pass under the arch and take the right fork in the road, heading up a small hill.
To our left lies the village. I can see a children’s playground, an exhibition center, shops, restaurants, and bars that are still open and filled with guests. There’s a large area full of individual log cabins as well as a proper hotel. Everywhere glows with fairy lights.
“Their electricity bill must be enormous,” Stefan comments.
Hal gives him a wry look. “I hope you’re not going to make comments like that all vacation.”
“Yes,” Izzy says, poking him with her toe. “You’ve got to at least try to get in the spirit.”
He just gives a short laugh and looks away, but it makes me think about what he told me on the plane, about not liking the festive season because it reminds him of how many people aren’t lucky enough to have what we have—good jobs and loving friends and family around us. Still, isn’t the point that we should appreciate what we do have? All the Kings, and Stefan, give vast amounts to charity, and many of us do charity work, too—I work in the local SPCA shop on Saturdays sometimes. Who would it help if we moped around refusing to enjoy the gifts we’ve been given?
The reindeer slow and then stop outside a cluster of buildings. A couple stand out the front, coming forward as we begin to disembark.
“Eva!” Noah walks forward and throws his arms around the dark-haired woman, and she laughs and hugs him back.
“Hey, Noah!” She moves back and surveys him with a dazzling smile. “You haven’t changed a bit!”
“Apart from the gray hair,” he says ruefully, touching it with a gloved hand and grinning.
“How are you, are you feeling okay?” she asks with concern. She obviously knows about his agoraphobia.
“I’m good.” He looks tired but happy. “Abby was ready with the Diazepam, but I’m pleased to say I didn’t need any!” He laughs and brings his wife-to-be forward. “Eva, this is Abby, and this is Ethan.” He pats the baby who’s still asleep in the baby carrier, close to his chest.
“I’m so pleased you came!” Eva hugs Abby and coos at Ethan. “This is Rudi,” she announces to everyone, bringing forward the tall, blond-haired guy who smiles at us all. “My husband.”
We all shout hello and he grins. “You must all be exhausted,” he says, raising his voice. “Let me show you to your sky suites, and then we can talk in the morning.”
There follows fifteen minutes or so of activity as we retrieve our cases and flight bags, then follow Rudi and Eva toward the complex of buildings.
The sky suites are situated around a central large common room, and Rudi and Eva walk us through it to show us the layout. The common room has luxurious sofas and chairs, an enormous widescreen TV, a games area with table football, a dartboard, board games, and puzzles, and a kitchen and dining area, with two long beautiful wooden dining tables, so we can eat here if we don’t want to go out to a restaurant one evening.
After a brief look, they lead us to the sky suites themselves. There are a dozen of them, called sky suites because the loft bedrooms have a glass front wall that gives a perfect view across the snowy forest and the clear night sky, which means hopefully we’ll be able to see the Aurora Borealis at some point.
Everyone starts moving off to their designated suite, carrying their luggage and all talking at once. Stefan and I both have a suite to ourselves, and they’re next to each other, at the end of the complex. We walk together, our boots crunching on the snow, waving as each couple disappears into their own suite.
Eventually it’s just the two of us. We stop outside the second-to-last suite, which has been allocated to me. I take the key out of my pocket and hesitate. The snow falls lightly around us and over us; it coats Stefan’s hair, and lies on his eyelashes. A flake lands on his lip, and he touches his tongue to it.
My breath frosts before my face. “Well, goodnight,” I say to him.
“Goodnight.” He hesitates. “Jules…”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad we’re talking again.”
I smile. “Me, too.”
“I know a Christmas trip isn’t exactly the ideal vacation for the two of us, but we’ll try to have a nice time, right?”
“It’ll be fun,” I tell him, wishing he was joining me in my suite. But some things aren’t meant to be. “Sleep tight, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Eight o’clock in the common room, right?”
“Yep.”
He nods and walks away, to the door to his own suite. I let myself in mine, and close the door behind me.
Chapter Six
Stefan
I sleep fitfully and wake disoriented and wondering where on Earth I am. The door is on the wrong side of the room, and there’s no heavy weight on the end of the bed—no Fred the Red doing his starfish impression and taking up all the duvet. I roll onto my back as it all comes flooding back to me, and I lift my head and look out of the window facing the bed. It’s still dark, but then the sun barely rises above the horizon at this time of the year, so it doesn’t really mean anything. And having arrived late at night, I have no idea how much light there’ll be during the day. There’s no moon or stars, but the lanterns in the pine, spruce, and birch trees opposite highlight the thick flakes of snow falling from the dark sky. I hold my breath at the sight of a small shape on the edge of the forest, lit by a nearby lantern. It seems to look up at me, and its pointed ears and bushy tail twitch. The fox waits for a moment, then vanishes back into the trees.
My lips curve up. Fred would have been barking the house down if he’d seen it.<
br />
I glance at my phone. It says 4:03 a.m. I flop back onto the pillow with a groan. Damn jet lag.
I get up and visit the bathroom, then return to bed. It’s not cold; the heat pump ensures the suite remains a steady, comfortable temperature, but it’s not exactly warm as toast either at this time of night. Outside, it must be well below freezing.
Rolling myself up in the duvet, I lie back on the pillows and let my gaze drift out into the darkness.
Next door to me, is Jules sound asleep? Or is she awake, too, looking out of the window? And if she is, is she thinking of me?
I’m glad I had that talk to her on the plane. I couldn’t bear her being angry with me.
I think about that for a while, listening to the strange sounds around me; the low whirr of the heat pump, the hoot of a tawny owl, the cricket-like sound of a European nightjar bird, and a high-pitched howl, probably the red fox, startled by another predator.
I think about Jules’s hair, a shiny chocolate brown. She’d look amazing naked, her hair in a long twist, curling over her shoulder and onto her breast. With all that exercise, her body is going to be taut and toned, and although her skin will be pale around her breasts and thighs, the rest of it will be a gorgeous caramel color, tanned by her days in the sun.
Not that I’ll ever get to see it. It’s pointless to fantasize about her, or to fill my nights with dreams of her. It’s good that we’ve made up, but it’s time for me to move on.
I think back to the events of last year that threw a grenade into my family and damn near blew it apart. I make myself remember all the anger, the arguments, the tears. I never want to go through that again, and I certainly don’t want to be the cause of such unhappiness. I’m doing the right thing. It’s difficult when my body longs for her. But, difficult as it may be, keeping Jules at arm’s length is the only option.
I remember then what she told me about Connor accusing her of having an affair with me. Why did Connor think that? Obviously we weren’t having an affair; we weren’t even that close, no closer than we’ve been all our lives, anyway. But maybe that closeness was enough to make him jealous. Jules and I have always been touchy-feely; always hugged, kissed on the cheek, put a hand on the shoulder as we lean in to talk. He must have picked something up he didn’t like. I hate the fact that I might have had something to do with him hitting her. Thank God I didn’t know at the time; I’d have gone around to his place and knocked his teeth down his throat. I’m still tempted to do that, even though it’s been a while now since they were together.
My Christmas Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 7) Page 4