Christmas Ever After

by Sarah Morgan

  He was fairly sure the banker wouldn’t be bored and the thought elevated his tension levels a few more notches. “Because tonight was the night you developed frostbite?” He felt her curves mold against him as she drew closer.

  “It’s worth a little frostbite to have this view.” She pulled the folds of his coat around her, snuggling closer. “I love your coat. You wore it the night of my show and when you walked in I thought you looked like a highwayman.”

  He wondered what she’d say if he confessed he was considering stealing her away from bankers and any other men her parents might consider suitable replacements for Richard. “You’re saying I look like a criminal.”

  “I’m saying you look sexy and badass in all that black.” She gazed out across the city. Beneath them the River Thames wound like a lazy serpent through decades of history, hiding a thousand secrets in its murky depths. “This is awesome. I feel like Aladdin on his magic carpet.”

  He breathed deeply and eased away from her slightly. “Just as long as you know that the thing you’re rubbing isn’t a lamp. Do you always spin reality into fantasy?”

  “Who says it’s fantasy? Maybe it’s just a different way of looking at things.” She leaned her head against the glass. “Some people might look out of this window and see a city at night, but half close your eyes and tell me what you see, Alec.”

  Right now he couldn’t see anything through the red mist of raw lust.

  He could smell the scent of her and feel her slender form pressed against him. “I see buildings. Lights people haven’t bothered to turn off. I see an eco nightmare and an oasis of global warming.”

  She gave a gurgle of laughter. “No, you’re telling me what you know is there. Look again and tell me what you see.”

  Her laugh was like the rest of her. Unrestrained and honest.

  Dragging his eyes from her hair, he looked across darkness and shimmering light.

  “I see thousands of years of history. Romans, Vikings, William the Conqueror. I see rape, pillage and plunder.”

  “Ugh. You’re warped.” She shuddered. “Trust you to spoil a lovely view with grisly facts.”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me what you see. You’re the artist.”

  “I see diamonds and pearls, onyx and obsidian. I see secrets and wild affairs, a beautiful woman dancing at a masked ball—”

  “Presumably not with her husband.”

  “Why not her husband?”

  “Because she’s disguising herself. If she was dancing with her husband, she wouldn’t wear a mask. She doesn’t want to be recognized.”

  “Or maybe she’s adding some excitement to their lives. She’s loyal, she loves him, but they’re pretending they’re strangers.” She presented the alternate scenario then turned her head and looked in a different direction. “I love this so much. I’m so glad you brought me—that I didn’t miss this—”

  He didn’t want to be charmed but he was, and looking up, he realized that so were a group of men in suits in the capsule above them who seemed more taken with Skylar than London.

  Frowning, Alec shifted his position so that he obstructed their view.

  Her infectious enthusiasm combined with her ravishing beauty made her the object of attention from every unattached male who passed within range of her sunbeam smile.

  She didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, Alec.” She turned that sunbeam smile on him. “This was a brilliant idea.”

  He pulled her against him. “Come back with me.” He hadn’t planned to say it. Hadn’t even acknowledged that he was thinking it. It was a crazy idea.

  “To the hotel? Of course. I don’t have anywhere else to stay since you made me cancel my room.”

  “Not to the hotel. To Puffin Island. Forget New York.”

  She eased away from him. “I am coming back to Puffin Island. I already told you—”

  “Not next week, tomorrow. I’ll book you on my flight to Boston. We’ll travel together.”

  “Brittany isn’t expecting me until next week.”

  “You won’t be staying with Brittany.”

  Her beautiful eyes widened. “Just to be clear, you’re suggesting—”

  “Yes.”

  There was a long, pulsing silence and she curled her hand into the front of his coat. “You’re inviting me to stay with you? That’s … big. I’ve never even been to your house on the island. You never invited me before.”

  He’d never invited anyone apart from his friend Ryan. It was a safe, protected space where he could work undisturbed.

  “I’m inviting you now.” He stroked his fingers over her hair. It fascinated him, shades of platinum and white gold, like the precious metals she used to make her jewelry. “Can I tempt you back to my lair?”

  There was a light in her eyes, a brightness that hadn’t been there before. “Why?”

  The question froze him.

  “Because I don’t think you should go back to New York on your own. What if Richard shows up?”

  “So you’re doing this to protect me from Richard?” Her voice was gentle, her eyebrows raised in question. “Thank you, but I don’t need you to make that sacrifice. I’ll handle Richard.”

  “Sky—”

  “If there’s another reason you’d like me to come back with you, like sex for example, or because I make you laugh, then obviously I’d consider it, but I won’t come with you just because you want to protect me.”

  “Sex is another reason.” His mouth was dry. “It’s the main reason. And you do make me laugh.”

  Since when did he have trouble speaking? He spoke fluently to the camera on a regular basis but with Sky’s blue eyes fixed on his he wasn’t sure he could voice his own name without multiple takes.

  “So—Richard isn’t the reason, sex is the reason?”

  “Yes. I want more simple, uncomplicated sex. I don’t want anything else. And if that sounds selfish it’s because I am selfish. I won’t change. I want to be clear about that. I could break your heart.”

  “Or I could break yours.” She looked at him and smiled. “Alternatively, we might part physically exhausted but completely intact. You don’t need to spell out terms and conditions, but you want me to know that you’re thinking with your penis?”

  He felt heat break over his skin and was relieved he’d arranged to have the capsule to themselves. “Possibly. Probably.”

  “That’s good. Your penis makes good, honest decisions. I’ll vote for it in the next election.”

  Smiling, he lowered his head so that his mouth was next to her ear. “What the hell are we doing, Sky?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment and then she rose on tiptoe, turned her head and kissed him gently on the mouth. “I think it’s called ‘having fun.’ Merry Christmas, Alec.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  AFTER A COUPLE of long flights, Alec and Skylar landed at Logan Airport and took a private plane to Puffin Island.

  The pilot was Zachary Flynn. He eyed the pair of them cautiously as they walked across the tarmac, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing them together.

  Sky couldn’t quite believe it, either.

  She kept expecting Alec to tell her he’d changed his mind.

  “Hurry up,” Zach growled, “there’s bad weather coming our way. Unless you want to be stranded on the wrong side of the water, we need to leave now.”

  “There’s always bad weather. This is Maine in December. And you can pretty much fly in anything, so stop being a grouch. Good to see you.” Sky reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for meeting us, Zach. You’re the best.”

  He took her face in his hands and angled it, examining the bruise. His eyes darkened. “If I ever meet him—”

  “It wasn’t him, it was me,” she said hastily, “and I’m good, thanks. Really good.”

  To her surprise, Zach, rarely demonstrative, pulled her into a tight hug. “I never would have voted for him. You were right to dum
p his sorry ass.” He muttered the words into her ear and she smiled into his shoulder and eased away.

  She loved her friends. “I think so.”

  Zach nodded to Alec. “I hear you rescued her. Nice work.”

  Sky hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. “Excuse me, he did not rescue me, I rescued mys—”

  “She rescued herself.” Alec finished her sentence and hefted their cases into the plane. “I provided backup. Let’s do this before we ditch in the frozen ocean.”

  They strapped themselves in for the short flight over the bay to Puffin Island.

  The bay, always crowded with boats in the summer months, was mostly empty. She knew that only the hardiest of fishermen worked their lobster traps in the winter. Ahead of her the ocean stretched forever into the horizon.

  Home, she thought. It felt like home. So many of her favorite memories featured this island. Long, happy days on the beach searching for sea glass, relaxed, cozy evenings talking around the kitchen table while Brittany’s grandmother cooked at the stove.

  Beneath her she saw the forest, now white with snow, saw tiny inlets and rocky shores.

  Puffin Island.

  Zach executed a perfect landing and moments later Sky was standing on the tarmac, shivering in the bitter wind.

  “Holy crap, this is so much colder than London.”

  Zach handed Alec a set of keys. “Your car is in the car park, delivered as requested. Are you going to drop Sky at the cottage or do you want me to give her a ride? Brittany is out choosing paint with Emily but she won’t be long. They’re fixing up Doug Mitchell’s old place on Main Street so Emily can start setting up her shop.”

  Alec raised his eyebrows. “I bet he’s charging her a small fortune in rent.”

  “Don’t you believe it.” Sky swung her bag over her shoulder. “Emily looks sweet, but she negotiates so hard you’re lucky if you don’t lose layers of skin along with the clothes on your back. She’ll leave Doug bleeding. And thanks for the offer, Zach, but I’m not staying at the cottage. I’ll call Brit later. If there is decorating to be done, I want to be there.”

  And this time she needn’t worry about Richard phoning, making her feel guilty for being there.

  Zach’s eyes narrowed. “I assumed you’d be staying with us.”

  “Not this time.”

  Alec picked up his suitcase. “She’s staying with me.”

  “Right.” Zach absorbed that without comment. “In that case, you can both join us for dinner. That’s if they’ve cleared the roads enough for you to make it over to us without landing in a ditch.”

  Skylar loved hearing the “us.” Zach had lived his life alone for so long that hearing him use the word so naturally warmed her. “Dinner sounds good. Thank you.”

  They parted company and Alec took the coast road that wound along the west side of the island.

  “It’s a different place in the winter. Every bit as beautiful, but different.” Sky huddled in her seat, looking at the landscape. The familiar now seemed unfamiliar, snow altered shapes and blurred edges, softening the sharp and obliterating dips and curves. Landmarks disappeared, as if winter was playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek. “Is your house warm?”

  “Yes, but I’m sure we’ll find ways of generating heat, don’t worry.”

  She felt her skin prickle with awareness. “Do you mind having dinner with Brittany? I should have checked with you.”

  “You mean because she’s going to take you to one side and demand every detail? That’s your problem.” He slowed as they approached a bend. “I’m not the one answering the questions.”

  “Do you think it will feel awkward, because we’ve all been friends a long time?” Except for her and Alec. And that was the irony. Out of the six of them, theirs had been the most difficult relationship. “I wouldn’t want to damage that.”

  “It won’t be awkward.”

  The road crested and beneath her in the distance she could see the familiar curve of Shell Bay, with Castaway Cottage nestled just beyond the beach.

  Winter, summer, spring or fall, it was a special place.

  Instead of continuing down, Alec took a sharp left. The road narrowed and steepened and on the headland she could see the lighthouse that had guarded this part of the island for centuries. To the right of it, sheltered by a dip in the coastline, were two fishermen’s cottages that had weathered the wild Atlantic weather.

  “What an amazing position. How did you find this place?”

  “The owners moved back to the mainland and Brittany mentioned that it was empty. She knew I was looking for somewhere around here.”

  “It’s remote.”

  “That’s the idea.” He sent her a look. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No. With any luck we’ll be snowed in. We’d have to stay in bed and rub our naked bodies together to keep warm.” She leaned forward and looked at the cottage, intrigued. “You converted it?”

  “I did some of the work, not all of it.” He pulled up. “I’m glad they cleared the snow, otherwise we would have been facing a few hours of hard labor before we could reach the front door.”

  She looked at the banks of snow and the steep narrow road behind them. “This place is perfect for tobogganing.”

  He switched off the engine. “I’d never thought of it.”

  “Seriously? You are surrounded by slopes, and you don’t immediately want to slide down them? Now I know what I’m buying you for Christmas.”

  “I own cross-country skis and a snowmobile.”

  “I’ve never been on a snowmobile. Let’s do that. But first I need to buy a thicker jacket.” She slid out of the car, her teeth chattering against the bitter cold. “Better unlock that door fast, Hunter, or it’s going to be like having sex with a icicle.”

  He hauled their cases out of the car and paused to empty the mailbox. “Do you ever think about anything other than sex?”

  “Hey, that’s what you brought me here for, remember? I’m simply sticking to the job description. Think of me as an eco-friendly heat source.”

  He tucked a wedge of envelopes under his arm and gave a faint smile. “I’m starting to hope we’re going to get snowed in.”

  “Yeah, me, too. We should have dropped in to Harbor Stores and stocked up on emergency supplies.”

  “I keep a good stock of emergency supplies, keep the car filled with gas and have studded snow tires.” He carried the cases to the cottage and then delved in his pocket for the keys. “There’s backup power and I always have at least one cell phone on charge. It pays to be prepared. Learned that lesson after my first winter here.”

  “What about condoms?”

  He dropped the keys in the snow. “Sorry?”

  “Do you have emergency supplies of condoms? If we’re snowed in for several days, demand would be high.” She watched with a grin as he found the keys. “I hope we’re not going to disturb your neighbors.”

  “My nearest neighbor is a mile away.” He opened the door. “She’s eighty.”

  “So we can abandon the whole silent sex thing?” She stepped onto the flagstone floor of the entryway and paused. “It’s not two cottages, it’s one.”

  “It was two. The person before me knocked two of them together. I made a few changes to let in more light.”

  She walked around, enchanted. “It’s wonderful, Alec. It’s original and beautiful and the view—” She explored without being invited and almost drooled when she walked into the garden room. Floor-to-ceiling glass flooded the room with light and beyond the windows there was nothing but the sea and the sky. “North light. It’s north light. I might never leave.” She spoke without thinking and winced, wishing that her mouth didn’t run away from her. “It’s perfect for painting. Don’t be freaked out. I’m in love with your house, not you.”

  Was he freaked out? It was impossible to tell because his handsome face revealed nothing.

  “Most people find it too isolated.”

  “By ‘m
ost people’ do you mean your ex-wife?”

  “No. She never came here. I bought it after the divorce.”

  To escape from the world. “It is isolated. But that’s part of its charm. I can’t wait to get out there and explore. Shall we do that right now before we unpack? It would be fun! You can show me around. We can build a snowman. Maybe toboggan—”

  “If we’re going over to Castaway Cottage later we should probably unpack first.” He strolled back through to the kitchen and put the mail down on the counter. “The bedroom is upstairs. And the bathroom. Make yourself at home.”

  She watched as he flung his coat over the back of a chair and thought absently that Richard never would have done that. He would have reached for a hanger to preserve the shape of the coat. The irony was that Richard, who gave so much thought to what he was going to wear and the impact of his appearance on those around him, didn’t come close to having Alec’s physical presence or charisma. He worked hard on something that to Alec came naturally.

  She picked up her bag and carried it up the narrow staircase. The first door she opened led to a study. Three of the walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, crammed with books of all shapes and sizes. Biographies as thick as her arm, novels with their spines creased, travel guides, books on history and archaeology. The floor acted as an overflow, with books stacked to hip height. In all she guessed there were enough books to fill a small library.

  Under the window, facing out over the sea, was a desk strewn with papers, more books and pens. A pair of glasses lay abandoned on a thick pad of paper.

  Here, in this space, she remembered how smart Alec was and felt a flicker of insecurity.

  He was seriously academic, like her parents.

  Alec walked in behind her. “I should have warned you not to come in here. It’s a mess. When I’m working on a book or a paper I don’t throw anything away until it’s done.”

  “I’m the same. I like to keep all my ideas, even the terrible ones, until the final designs are approved. Then I have a ritual throwing-out session.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “The garden room is yours while you’re staying with me. I rarely go in there.”