Christmas Holiday Husband

by Kris Pearson

  Even something as everyday as eating was difficult with Tony watching from across the table. Ellie dropped her napkin, spooned out far too much mayonnaise, and found herself imagining a repeat of that morning’s breakfast table kiss.

  You wish! she taunted herself, knowing she needed to keep a tight rein on her passion if she was to survive the summer...survive the eight long weeks of tutoring the twins so they’d be up to speed for school when the new term rolled around.

  Tony leaned back in his chair after the main course was finished. His eyes twinkled—as mischievous as Cal’s sometimes were. Ellie couldn’t look away; to see her son as he might be as a grown man was fascinating.

  “I’ve got an idea for tomorrow, girls,” he said. “I’m driving across to Bob Walmsley’s in the morning. If Ginny packs lunch for us, Ellie could take you fossil hunting in the river cliffs. I’ll come back for you about midday. How about it?”

  The twins of course squealed with pleasure.

  “Picnic lunch for four, then,” Ginny said placidly.

  “Well, that’s not what I planned at all,” Ellie objected. “I need to make progress with their alphabet and start on simple words. They’re far too young for fossils yet.”

  “But it’s fun,” Tony said, narrowing his eyes at her. “I used to love poking about. You might even find dinosaur bones,” he added, turning to smile at his daughters. Their eyes grew huge.

  “Like in my big book?” Antonia asked. Both twins raced off to find it.

  Ellie realised there was no getting out of it with such an inducement. “We’ll do the lessons too,” she called after them.

  Tony sent her a look that made her blood fizz. “Wear shorts,” he said. “It’s going to be a real scorcher tomorrow. You’ll need a sunhat.”

  She shook her head. “Burned in the fire.”

  “I’ll find you one,” Ginny said. “Did you lose a lot of your things?”

  “Almost everything. I managed to grab a few clothes, but extras like bags and hats and shoes went up in smoke. I rented the place furnished, so not everything was mine.”

  Ginny looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “Robbie,” she said. “There are still some of Julia’s clothes in the wardrobe. The ones that have never been worn. Would you object if I gave Ellie anything she thinks might be useful?”

  Ellie’s pride made her react abruptly. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s so kind, but I couldn’t.”

  “No worries,” Tony said. “Make the most of them. Good idea.”

  “No!” Ellie repeated. “The girls don’t need to see me wearing their mother’s clothes. Neither do you two. Thanks, but no.”

  “The girls,” Ginny said softly, “have never seen their mother in any of these. As I said, brand new. Never worn. I’ve no idea what to do with them. They’re far too good for the charity shop where I sent all the rest. And I don’t think trying to re-sell them is quite appropriate.”

  “At least have a look at them,” Tony urged.

  Ellie bowed her head. “Thank you. But...I don’t want handouts. I can provide for myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, dear,” Ginny said. “But what am I to do with these otherwise? There are a couple of dresses from Paris. Some lovely knitted tops. What size shoes do you take?”

  Ellie sighed, thinking of her battered old sandals and scuffed trainers. “Eight,” she murmured, pink with embarrassment. It would be the final straw—being reduced to wearing his dead wife’s clothes.

  “About a European forty? Worth trying, then. None of it fits me.” Ginny patted her ample hips. “We’ll have a look in a minute. Robbie can put the coffee on while we go up and see.”

  Ellie nodded her unwilling agreement. If no-one else needed them, she should accept them in the spirit they were offered. She had so little left right now. But it was galling to be an object of pity in front of Tony.

  “Have you got a party dress with you?” he asked. “It’s the local pre-Christmas knees-up this Saturday night. That’s why I’m going over to Bob’s—he and Penny are heading up the committee this year.”

  “I’m not invited, surely?” she asked, knowing she absolutely didn’t have a dress suitable for a big country get-together.

  “You’ll be home on your own if you don’t join us,” Ginny said. “Or had you planned to go and see your—”

  “No, not this weekend,” Ellie interrupted hastily. “There’s—um—maybe the weekend following.”

  “We’ve got to wear dresses, too,” Caro said glumly as she returned to the table with her picture book.

  “And I want my hair like Ellie’s,” Ants added, reaching up to stroke the shining waves cascading onto the shoulders of Ellie’s lemon T-shirt.

  “But how’s anyone going to tell you apart with no ponytail ribbons?” Ellie teased.

  “So you’ll come with us?” Tony said. It was barely a question. Ellie tensed, unused to being included so firmly in other people’s plans. She turned to him, ready to argue. And stopped dead at the look in his eyes.

  The late slanting sun lit half his face. On that side his skin was warmly tanned, firm along his jaw-line. But the rest of him was cast in shade. And both eyes were now so desolate that something hard and cold hit her deep inside.

  He was lonely. He was hurting. And that made him so much more dangerous. An arrogant flirt she could probably resist, but a grieving friend was a different matter altogether.

  Swamped with conflicting emotions, she pushed to her feet. “I’ll clear the table,” she said, with far too much enthusiasm. Anything to escape those dark haunted eyes.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dresses from Paris! Ellie ran her hands down the sides of the simple biscuit-coloured linen shift which Ginny had persuaded her to slip into; it was loose enough to skim the curves of her body elegantly, and a wonderful foil for her dark hair. It was a far cry from the chain-store clothes she was used to—or the church shop finds her mother sometimes pressed on her.

  There was an emerald green silk party dress, too—bodice cut on a slant to reveal one shoulder. Several pretty knitted tops, striped and plain. And a lightweight wool crepe suit in palest grey, with impossibly fine braiding on the cuffs and lapels. Ellie could think of no event in her life that would ever require such an expensive ensemble as the dove-grey suit.

  There were green Italian sandals with slender straps and spiked heels. Two pairs of plaited slides. Low-heeled casuals in black and toffee. Smart leather courts to match the suit exactly. Plainly Julia had had taste as well as money. Ellie was almost willing to swallow her pride to possess such beautiful things.

  “Take them away for me and have a proper try-on,” Ginny encouraged. “If they don’t fit you, or you don’t like them, it doesn’t matter one iota. But I need to get the room cleared out for Robbie’s parents’ Christmas visit. The girls will never know which are your clothes and which were to be Julia’s.” She snipped a swing-tag off the suit and handed the hanger to Ellie. “And Robbie hasn’t shared this room for quite some time. He wouldn’t have a clue...” Her voice was cool.

  Ellie’s radar pinged to full alert. How many times had she detected unwelcome situations at school from the tiniest comment...the slightest change in tone? Too many to remember, that was for sure.

  Plenty of money, the grandest of houses, and the most desirable husband in the world had apparently not guaranteed everlasting happiness for Ginny’s daughter.

  Her curiosity was intensely aroused by the comment about Robbie not sharing the room. It sounded like they’d become estranged and he’d moved out prior to Julia falling ill. Ellie burned with questions, but couldn’t possibly ask them.

  “Would that green silk be too over-the-top for Saturday?” She was already deeply in love with it.

  “Ideal,” said Ginny. “It’s good to dress up now and then. You’ll see everything from denim to sequins I expect.”

  Ellie carried her booty away, wondering when she’d ever have the opportunity to wear more of it. N
ot that she wanted to look pretty for Tony, of course. She’d be pleasantly polite, friendly but a little distant—certainly not encouraging. She’d never needed to be on her guard as much as now.

  xxx

  The sun sank below the horizon and the light faded further. Tony reached back and snapped on the wall sconces so soft radiance bathed the gracious old sitting room.

  Ellie set her coffee cup onto the tray and rose. “I’ll be off upstairs,” she said. “I want to do some preparation for tomorrow, seeing my day has been rearranged.” She sent him an exasperated glance and then looked quickly away.

  “Goodnight then, dear,” Ginny said.

  “I can’t begin to thank you for the clothes and shoes.”

  “It was time they found a home.”

  Ellie sighed. “It was very generous of you. They’re beautiful.”

  “Just like you will be on Saturday night.”

  Tony’s eyes followed her as she left the room. “What did you find for her?”

  “An emerald green dress. Lovely with her dark hair.” Ginny put her cup down on a small side-table. “I’ll just make sure the girls are ready for bed,” she added, rising from her favourite armchair.

  He nodded slowly, picturing Ellie in a green dress. Seeing his hands pushing the fabric away from her skin. Watching his fingers caress her. Imagining her reaction.

  There’d be initial outrage as he began to re-stake his claim on her.

  Then confused acquiescence as their old chemistry started to kick in.

  And finally the fierce and helpless passion that overtook her as she lost her inhibitions and responded fully to him.

  Fat chance, he thought glumly.

  She still had the invisible wall up between them. He wanted to break it down. He’d not so far prised open the tiniest chink, either when he’d carried her from the muddy bog, or this evening over dinner. But once they were alone together it might be a different matter.

  He waited five minutes, gathered his and Ginny’s coffee cups, and carried the tray to the kitchen before walking up the stairs, deep in thought.

  It was a hot and humid night. Distant thunder rolled in the mountains to the west. Occasional flashes of far-off lightning flickered and died. Tony hoped she’d have her doors open to the balcony. He’d pushed his own wide to capture some of the cooler evening air before going down to dinner. Surely Ellie would have done the same?

  The attraction between them was still white hot, however much she tried to ignore it. Her reaction to him at breakfast had been extreme. She’d lost her composure completely for the first few seconds, burying her face in her hands as though to deny he even existed. She’d spent the next several minutes sneaking quick glances at him and then averting her eyes whenever he caught her looking. She’d jumped like a nervous cat when the toast sprang up.

  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, feeli
ng 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.