by Penny Jordan
‘So all’s well that ends well,’ Heaven said slightly hollowly, getting up from the sofa where she had been sitting to walk across to the window and look at the still snow-covered landscape. ‘And it’s safe for me to go home?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Jon agreed tersely. ‘It seems that Harold has decided to spend Christmas in the Caribbean—somewhere where I doubt that figgy pudding or anything like it will be on the menu.’
Heaven tried to smile but for some reason her facial muscles were refusing to co-operate. For some reason! She knew perfectly well what the reason was.
Although she and Jon had been living as closely together as any two people who were not true lovers could, not once in the four days which had elapsed since the morning he had made love to her had he shown any inclination, either physical or verbal, to repeat the intimacy.
Why? Because he regretted ever having made love to her? Because he was afraid that she might have read too much into what had happened…? Too damn right she had. Far too much.
‘If I left this afternoon, I could be home for Christmas Eve,’ she told Jon numbly.
‘I’ll make the arrangements for you if that’s what you want,’ he said abruptly.
What was she supposed to say? That what she wanted was to stay with him; that what she wanted was to be with him, to be loved by him?
She dipped her head.
‘Please, if you wouldn’t mind,’ she confirmed formally.
Jon had switched on the television to catch the morning news and suddenly the room was filled with the sweet sound of a youthful choir singing Christmas carols.
To Heaven’s consternation, she felt her eyes start to fill with tears in response to the emotional effect of the sound. She had always been a sucker for the sentimentality of Christmas and couldn’t so much as pass a high-street store decorated with a Christmas crib without being flooded with a warm feeling of goodwill towards her fellow men.
But right now, when she was feeling so emotionally vulnerable, so heart-achingly aware of all that she felt for Jon and all that it seemed he did not feel for her, the last thing she needed was any additional pressure on her frail emotional self-control. She tried to force back the tears, but it was too late—Jon had already seen them.
‘Heaven, what is it… what’s wrong?’
He was at her side, reaching for her, before she could push him away. The sleeves of the overlong sweater that she had ‘borrowed’ from Louisa unravelled, impeding her efforts to free herself from him as he took hold of her, one hand soothingly stroking her sweater-clad arm, whilst the other…
Heaven gulped as she felt him brush away her tears.
‘Why?’ he asked her quietly. ‘What is it? If you’re worrying about Harold… afraid…’
‘I’m not afraid of Harold; you’ve seen to it that he’ll not be suing me for my foolhardy revenge on him,’ Heaven replied. ‘It’s…’ She tried to lift her hand to her mouth to stem her betraying words, but the sweater sleeve got in the way and to her dismay she could only shake her head.
‘I should be the one doing this—not you,’ she heard Jon telling her huskily as he touched her tear-damp face.
‘You?’ Heaven stared up at him. ‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t want you to leave… I don’t want to lose you again, Heaven. Because I want to keep you here with me for ever…’
‘You want me to stay?’ Heaven couldn’t quite hide her disbelief. ‘How can you say that when for the last four days you’ve behaved as though…?’ She stopped and bit her lip.
‘Go on… When for the last four days I’ve behaved as though what?’ Jon pressed her.
‘As though you don’t want me,’ Heaven told him bleakly.
‘Not want you…?’
The raw passion in his voice made Heaven’s stomach muscles quiver. Urgently Jon cupped her face and forced her to look up at him.
‘Of course I want you… I more than merely want you, Heaven, I love you, and there’s nothing I’ve wanted more these last few days than to be in a position to tell you so, but first I had to get this whole sorry mess of Louisa’s divorce settlement out of the way, not just because the very nature of the information you gave me about Harold meant I had to act quickly, but, even more importantly, because I wanted you and I to have time together that nothing else, no one else, could intrude on.
‘Eighteen months ago when we first met I knew you were someone special, very special—that the way I felt about you was very, very real and permanent; but then… well, you disappeared and I felt that anyone connected with Harold, no matter how distantly, would be the last person you’d want in your life, to remind you of what he’d put you through. But then fate decreed that we should meet again and when we did…’
The look he gave her as he carefully brushed a stray strand of hair off her face made Heaven’s heart turn over with awed joy. Never even in her most vivid imaginings had she ever imagined she would have the power to make a man look at her the way Jon was looking at her right now—as though she was his whole world, his whole reason, his whole being.
‘Nothing’s changed, Heaven,’ Jon whispered passionately to her. ‘My love for you is very, very real and very, very permanent. I love you and if you want to make my Christmas wish come true you—’
‘You really love me?’ Heaven interrupted him, unable to keep silent any longer, her eyes starry with emotion.
‘I love you,’ Jon confirmed. ‘I really love you. I love you and my Christmas wish is for you to return my love… for you to be my wife…’
Behind them the TV choir launched into a triumphant burst of praise but Heaven barely heard them, her own heart singing too loudly with joy, and besides, Jon was kissing her so passionately that she was blind, deaf and dumb to everything, everyone but him.
‘Promise me one thing,’ he begged her when he finally, reluctantly released her mouth.
‘What?’ Heaven asked him, giddy with joy and love.
‘That you’ll never, ever make me your special version of figgy pudding,’ he told her fervently.
Heaven was still laughing as he swept her up into his arms and headed for the stairs, and the bedroom.
EPILOGUE
‘IS THAT it—the end?’
Jon looked lovingly at his wife.
‘No, not the end; this story will never end,’ he told his niece. ‘This is just the beginning, and like our love it will last for ever,’ he told Heaven in a voice low enough for only her to hear as he leaned across to kiss her.
‘Oh, grown-ups—yuck!’ Christabel exclaimed. ‘You’re just like Mum and Dad—they’re always hugging and kissing too. I’m never going to get married…’
‘You’ll change your mind, you wait and see,’ Jon warned her with a smile. ‘The proof of the pudding’s always in the eating—you ask Heaven.’
‘Oh, always,’ Heaven agreed, laughing.
Grown-ups, Christabel decided crossly, were a complete mystery to her. First of all that silly kissing and now they were laughing for absolutely no reason at all that she could see!
IMPRINT: Special Release eBooks
ISBN: 9781460888155
TITLE: PENNY JORDAN’S CHRISTMAS NIGHTS: A BRIDE FOR HIS MAJESTY’S PLEASURE/HER CHRISTMAS FANTASY/FIGGY PUDDING
First Australian Publication 2012
Copyright © 2012 Penny Jordan
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Mills & Boon®, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. N.S.W., Australia 2067.
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Table of Contents
About the Author
Title Page
A BRIDE FOR HIS MAJESTY’S PLEASURE
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
HER CHRISTMAS FANTASY
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
FIGGY PUDDING
Penny Jordan’s Figgy Pudding
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Copyright