Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5)

by Farrell, Julie

  She swivelled to face him. “You’re just as bad, Verlaine. Trying to play me and Sam off each other to bolster your own ego. It’s pathetic.”

  Verlaine suppressed his irritation. “I’ve honestly no clue what you’re talking about. It’s like you’re living in a completely different reality to me and Sam. Why are you getting upset? Don’t you understand what you did tonight? You knowingly tried to seduce me – you tricked me.”

  Rebecca stood up and loomed over him. “My feelings were totally hurt this evening, and I’ve had enough of both of you thinking you can trample over people’s hearts like this. I’m very vulnerable at the moment – my father’s just died and I’m getting divorced. You were flirting with me so I took the bait and thought it would be a quick fling. It wouldn’t mean anything. Sam would never have known if she hadn’t come to the car.”

  “But I wouldn’t cheat on Sam ever. It’s not a matter of her not finding out. I love her. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

  “Well I cheated on you plenty when we were going out. And it never mattered because you never knew.”

  Her words reverberated around Verlaine’s chest like a bullet. He spluttered. “You cheated on me?”

  “There were a few others, yes. My boss. Your boss.”

  “My boss?”

  “He was a good lover.”

  “You really are a bitch, aren’t you? Like Scott says.”

  “Does he? Well, I’ve a few choice words I could say about him.”

  Sam stood up. “Don’t. Come on, Verlaine, I don’t think we’re getting through to Rebecca. Shall we go to bed and let the dust settle?”

  He grabbed the doorknob with shaking hands. “Yeah, let’s get outta here and back to sanity.”

  Rebecca buried her head in her hand and groaned as if she’d been deeply wounded. “I hope you two go and think carefully about what you’ve put me through! I’d like to stay here and celebrate Christmas with you and come to the ball tomorrow, but I can’t possibly do that, knowing you’re so against me.”

  Sam turned back. “We’re not against you, Rebecca.”

  Verlaine grabbed Sam’s shoulder to prevent her from getting drawn in again – he knew this was just more manipulation.

  “It feels like it to me,” Rebecca said. “However, if you decide that you’d like to apologise then I am very open to that. This house is a place that I adore and feel very comfortable in, but clearly until I know you won’t attack me again, it’s impossible for me to continue as if nothing is wrong.”

  Sam opened her mouth – possibly to apologise – but Verlaine gently pushed her out to the hallway. He stood in the doorframe and glared at his ex-girlfriend.

  “If you wanna leave, please do it as soon as possible, because I can’t stand to look at you for another second!”

  Rebecca opened her mouth to hurl an insult at him, but he slammed the door, shutting her in there like a wild animal. The silence of the hallway ricocheted in their ears; Verlaine’s heart pounded in his chest. What a fucking bitch – she’d just confessed she’d cheated on him, and now she was playing the victim and lashing out at Sam.

  Sam seemed deflated. “I had no idea she felt like that.”

  “She probably doesn’t. She’s trying to emotionally manipulate us, but I don’t know why.”

  “She wants you back?”

  “Why would she? She broke up with me.”

  “Maybe she thinks you’re the one that got away.”

  “Well, I’m very happy to stay away.”

  Sam took a-hold of his hands and smiled into his eyes. “Shall we sleep here tonight, or go back to London?”

  “I don’t think we should let her drive us out of here. Come on, let’s go to our room.”

  He put his arm around her and realised she was shaking. They strolled back to their room, and saw that it was exactly how they’d left it last night. Verlaine vaguely wondered whether Rebecca had rummaged around in here, but he pushed her out of his mind for now.

  Sam flopped down onto the bed, and he sat with her. There was a strained atmosphere between them now after Rebecca’s assault.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Verlaine asked.

  Sam sat up and hugged him. “I’m shocked. I don’t understand what her problem is.”

  “No, me either. I can’t believe she’s acting like the victim. Did you hear her say she cheated on me? What a fucking bitch.”

  Sam reached up and massaged her neck. Verlaine realised he was focusing his worry in the wrong place. She’d cheated on him – so what? Sam was his priority now.

  He reached out and caressed her shoulder. “Turn around, baby, let me do that.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned her back on him and he tenderly rubbed her tight shoulders. Poor baby – she’d been through a lot tonight, yet she was still acting so calm and sweet.

  “I love you, Sam,” he said.

  She dropped her head onto his chest and threw him a sad smile. A rush of compassion washed through him, reminding him of how lucky he was to have this wonderful woman as his girlfriend. He tried to imagine how Rebecca would’ve reacted if she’d caught him in the arms of another woman. She would’ve made his life hell.

  “It’s a bit different to last night, isn’t it?” Sam said. “I wish we could be back there again, enjoying each other’s bodies.”

  Verlaine nibbled her ear and felt the intense mood unwind. “We can enjoy each other’s bodies right here.”

  “But I’ll be noisy and deeply offend everyone, won’t I?”

  “You didn’t offend anyone. But… I know somewhere secret we can go.”

  Sam’s face sparkled with mischievousness. “Really? Where?”

  “Come with me.”

  “I’d love to!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Verlaine held Sam’s hand as they ran through the garden in the rain towards the little summerhouse at the end of the grounds. It looked charmingly delightful – like a wooden beach hut, but on a grand scale. The windows were huge, and the whole thing seemed to be octagonal in shape. They halted outside, panting to catch their breath, and Verlaine grabbed the key from under the mat – where apparently it was always kept. He opened the creaking glass door for Sam, and she rushed inside.

  Verlaine flicked on the lights behind her, causing a bulb to smash, which made Sam jump. She giggled, then looked around the beautiful room. She saw that the wooden walls were painted blue, and long velvet drapes covered the massive windows. The stone floor was strewn with Arabic rugs, which were incongruous against the wicker furniture and plywood bookcases. It was like a high-class junk shop. Sam could hear the sea crashing against the rocks in the near-distance, as well as the pattering rain on the glass roof.

  She turned her head and saw that – leading off the main space – was a tiny kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. Sam suddenly felt nervous about being alone here with Verlaine – it was like they were at the end of their first date and she’d just come in for coffee.

  “It’s cold, isn’t it?” Verlaine said.

  Sam suddenly remembered that her clothes were drenched from the deluge outside.

  “Freezing!”

  He padded over to a panel by the door and opened it. Then he flicked a switch and suddenly the cabin was filled with the sounds of pipes creaking and water rushing into the heating system.

  “Should warm up soon,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Verlaine grinned, then strode into the kitchen, leaving Sam to drip on the rug. She took off her coat, and hung it on the hat stand.

  “You wanna glass of wine, baby?” Verlaine called from the kitchen.

  “Is there some?”

  He swaggered back, holding a bottle of red and two glasses.

  “Everything you want is here, my love. You can have a bath to warm you if you like?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure.” He bent and kissed her tenderly. “I love you, Sam. I hope you know that.”
/>   “I love you, too.”

  “I really am sorry about –”

  “It’s okay. Let’s not dwell on it. I know it was a misunderstanding.”

  “I’d never hurt you. Not intentionally.”

  “I know.”

  He poured them both a glass of wine, and they clinked glasses.

  Sam kissed him. His hair was damp from the rain, and his stubble was growing back, making him look rugged and sexy.

  She sipped her wine and allowed the soothing alcohol to seep snuggly into her brain. “I’d love that bath. I could do with warming up.”

  “Oh, sure!”

  He sped off to the bathroom and Sam heard the sound of metal taps screeching, sputtering, and then water flowing into the tub.

  She wandered over to look at an old family portrait. It was an oil-painting probably based on a photo. There was a girl wearing a 1940s dress, with bunches in her hair and a big grin on her face. Her parents, who were standing behind her, had love in their eyes and tender expressions. A younger brother was playing with a wooden car on the ground. They were outside this summerhouse. Sam smiled. It’d looked lovely in its prime.

  Verlaine wandered back and massaged her shoulders. “Bath’s nearly ready. You okay?”

  She turned and kissed him. “Yeah. Do you know who these people are?”

  “Not really. My grandmother used to say the girl was her, but I’m not sure if she was kidding me.” He squinted at the painting as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “The little girl looks like a younger version of you, don’t you think!”

  Sam peered at the girl. She couldn’t see the resemblance so she changed the subject. “Did you come here every year with your grandmother? Every Christmas?”

  “Yeah. She lived in the big house for a while – rented, I guess. She was a lovely lady; you remind me of her actually.”

  “Oh god!”

  “No, but in a good way! She was so sweet and kind. Just like you.”

  “Aw, thank you. You’re sweet and kind, too.”

  He drew Sam into his arms. “I love you, baby. I love how you were so willing to forgive Rebecca after everything she did tonight.”

  “Rebecca’s just misguided and unhappy. She’s suffering and looking for ways to ease her suffering, that’s all. She’s a human being with feelings, just like everyone.”

  “Well, I think Rebecca’s a manipulative bitch, and not to be trusted after what she did. And I think she’s planning something even worse.”

  “Maybe. We can’t know that.”

  Sam listened to the rain falling hard outside. She gazed into Verlaine’s eyes. He winced.

  “Is there something you wanted to say, baby?” she asked.

  “Gemma thinks you need to toughen your heart so’s you don’t get hurt, but I don’t think you should ever change. Always keep that innocent spark, won’t you?”

  “I like being the way I am. It makes me happy to try to understand people. It makes life easier for me and them.”

  “I love you exactly as you are. And I’m gonnna keep an eye on you – I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “You’ll protect me from my own childlike naivety you mean?”

  “No. I’ll just love you and do my best for you.”

  A nasty thought suddenly struck Sam. It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Did you come here with Rebecca? To be together, I mean.”

  “Nope. Never.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. This is my special place. I’d come here to be alone. To escape from the family and to think about everything. And sometimes my grandmother would find me. We sure did have some fun back then.”

  “You miss her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. But it’s gotta to happen to everyone, right?”

  Sam’s mum filled her thoughts. Her heart twisted painfully with how much she missed her. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  Verlaine kissed her on the forehead. “Hey, your bath’s ready.”

  He led her to the bathroom, where Sam saw that he’d lit some scented candles and dimmed the lights. The bathroom was small and cosy, and the bathtub took up most of the space. It was a huge old ceramic freestanding tub, and it was currently full to the brim with bubbles. It was steamy and warm in here, and very snug.

  Grateful joy spun through her. “This is so romantic!”

  “Allow me to help you out of those wet things, madam,” he said.

  Arousal surged into her thighs, replacing the innocent romance. “Okay!”

  Verlaine lifted Sam’s T-shirt over her head and threw it to the floor, so she unzipped her jeans and eased them off, then removed her bra. Verlaine stared at her for a beat – smiling in awe at her body as he always did whenever he saw it. He came back to life, grabbed her panties, and pulled them down, dropping to his knees and looking up at her with a loving expression.

  She cupped his chin with her fingers, wondering whether he was about to propose. But she realised his mind was on other things as he moved his face towards her clit and gave it a teasy lick. Sam gasped as the blissful pleasure stabbed her. Verlaine threw her a grin, as if he was planning to give her oral on his knees.

  But then he stood up and put his hand out. “Would madam like some help getting in her bath?”

  Sam took his hand and laughed – it would be shame to waste this hot water, and they could make love afterwards when she was warm and relaxed. She lifted her leg and placed a cold foot into the soothing bubbles. Then she let go of his hand and her other leg followed. She stood there for a moment and leaned over to kiss him.

  “Thank you for this.”

  “Get in, sweetheart; enjoy!”

  She bent at the knees and eased her chilly body down into the warm suds. It was the perfect temperature; not too hot, but lovely and toasty. The ambience in the room was tranquil. The candles and Verlaine gave the room a rosy glow, and the wine had given Sam an inner radiance, too.

  “Are you joining me in here?” she asked.

  “No. It’s for you to enjoy, goddess.”

  He sat on the edge of the tub and gazed at her. She grinned contentedly. It reminded her of childhood bath-times, when her mum would sit on the edge and wash her.

  Verlaine reached his fingers into the water. “Gimme one of your feet.”

  Sam stuck one leg in the air and rested it on his lap. She was pretty flexible thanks to doing yoga, so it was quite comfortable. Verlaine maintained eye contact as he massaged her foot, sending dizzy lust up her leg and between her thighs.

  She groaned. “That’s so good, baby.”

  “Glad you like it.”

  He bent forward and ran his fingers up to massage her calf, then he made his way towards her thigh. He was leaning over her now and he’d shuffled closer, so he was easily able to reach down and trace his fingers around her pussy.

  “You like this?” he asked.

  Sam closed her eyes and grinned. It felt so secure and childlike, yet incredibly sexy. She opened her eyes and smiled at Verlaine. His face was full of adoration, and she knew she could trust him to the ends of the universe and back. He gently eased his fingers inside, and started to stimulate her G-spot, gazing lovingly into her eyes the whole time. It felt so innocent and comforting. He was here for her pleasure because he loved her, and she understood that now. Verlaine was no pushover, but he’d do anything to ensure she was happy. His thumb lightly brushed her clit and rubbed back and forth, applying the perfect amount of pressure. His fingers continued to massage her G-spot, and she sank into the beautiful feeling, happy to let him to do this for her. The ecstasy whirled up through her thighs and into her stomach, washing over her body. She realised that this wasn’t going to be a disappointing little cunt-sneeze like when she did it for herself in the bath. The feel of Verlaine’s fingers merged with her flesh and the pleasure exploded across her writhing body like wildfire. She heard herself crying out involuntarily with pure lust as her essence dissolved into the warmth of the room, and the delicious orgasm delivere
d wave after wave of intense delight into her soul.

  She ducked under the water, feeling the warmness all around her. Verlaine stayed with her, making sure she was fully satisfied. Then, needing to breathe, she thrust her head above the water and inhaled. The residual tingles zigzagged over her body, and she drifted back to the bathroom, feeling reborn. She opened her eyes and giggled.

  Verlaine was grinning in wonder. “Nice?”

  “Amazing!”

  “Good – I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “But, Verlaine, you know, there’s plenty of room in this tub for two, and quite frankly, I think we could both do with a good wash. Why don’t you strip off and join me? We can see how much pleasure there is yet to come this evening!”

  He tore off his T-shirt, revealing his gorgeous toned chest. “That’s a great idea. I’m coming in!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Rebecca was slightly afraid of her mother, but she knew her intentions were noble. Well, noble for their benefit at least. She carried the silver tray of coffee things into the living room, where Ellie was reclining on the worn-out leather sofa, flicking through the pages of a glossy magazine. As Rebecca set the tray down on the chipped antique table, Ellie glanced up with a stern expression – which was a stark contrast to the brightly-coloured Christmas decorations. Rebecca shivered. The eerie silence was filled only by the loud tick-tock of the looming grandfather clock, which seemed to be unashamedly eavesdropping, anxious to know the details of Ellie’s latest plan.

  The fire hadn’t been lit yet, so it was chilly in here. The high ceilings and wooden floors did nothing to warm the atmosphere, and Ellie’s natural coldness made Rebecca feel positively frigid.

  She bent to pour her mother a coffee, then handed her the china cup and saucer, which Ellie took in her manicured fingers. As Rebecca poured herself a coffee, she wondered how many other mothers and daughters were spending Christmas Eve morning plotting how to win back a lost love.

  Rebecca hoped her Christmas wishes would come true at the ball tonight.