Kiss Me for Christmas

by Christine Bell, Riley Murphy, Ros Clarke, Faye Robertson

  And yet…was it just the fact it had been Christmas that had made it feel magical? It had been snowing, and maybe their emotions had been heightened by the specialness of the day. Was that it? Or had there been something exceptional about what had happened between them last night? The sex had been fantastic, but it had been more than that, for Holly, anyway. Noel had touched her heart in a way that Jackson never had in all the five years she’d been with him.

  “Hol?” There was a hint of impatience in Jackson’s voice.

  “Bridget Jones,” she said.

  He heaved a sigh. “What about her?”

  “Noel likes the film.”

  “Noel? Who’s…oh.” His voice turned steely. “Is he gay?”

  She laughed. “No, he’s certainly not gay.”

  “Have you…?”

  “Slept with him? Yes.” She felt a wave of release as she admitted it. “He’s a lovely man, Jackson. I like him very much. It’s very new, what we’ve got, and it might not lead to anything more. I don’t know yet—it’s too early to tell. But I do know I like him. And he likes the same things I do. The same music, the same movies. He understands my crazy, mixed-up mind—he pretends he doesn’t, but he often knows what I’m saying when I’m being vague, and even when he can’t puzzle me out, it doesn’t irritate him. I don’t know what he wants out of life. His wife died a few years ago, and I don’t know if he even wants another relationship, let alone to get married or have kids. But the thing is, I want to find out. I want to spend more time with him. He makes me laugh. He makes me happy, and I wasn’t happy with you, Jackson—you said it yourself. I was miserable. And that’s why I can’t come back to you.”

  She finished, breathless with her long speech, her heart thudding as it all became clear to her. Suddenly, she was impatient to finish the phone call. She wanted to get back in bed with Noel, to wake him with kisses and spend the morning making love. “I’ve got to go,” she told Jackson. “You don’t really love me. You’ve realized leaving was the wrong move and you’re scared that you’re going to be alone now, but you won’t be for long. There’ll be another girl—one who’ll like the same things you do, and you’ll be fine, Jacks. I hope you will, anyway. I’ll see you around.”

  She hung up.

  Her spirits lifted, she went to the loo and brushed her teeth, left her phone in the bathroom, and crept back along the hallway to her bedroom.

  Noel wasn’t there.

  She stared at the bed for a moment, confused. He must have gone downstairs while she was on the phone. Perhaps he woke while she was talking, realized she wasn’t there, and came to find her… She went cold. What if he’d overheard her on the phone…and whatever he’d heard had made him walk away?

  She ran down the stairs, tying the robe tightly around her waist, and went into the living room. He wasn’t there. She went into the kitchen, then through to the other living room, checked in the bathroom, but no sign. Finally, she went to the front door. It wasn’t quite shut.

  She opened it, feeling a rush of relief as she saw him standing on the porch, looking out at the view. He turned as she came out. He didn’t smile.

  “Hey.” She walked up beside him, shivering as the cold air cut through her robe.

  “Hey.” His gaze moved back to the loch, which was silent and gray.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  He cleared his throat. “I heard you on the phone. I didn’t want to eavesdrop.”

  She read between the lines—he’d overheard her talking and hadn’t liked what he’d heard. She went cold, and it had nothing to do with the December air.

  “Noel…” He must have heard her saying she hoped there’d be something between them. She’d freaked him out—he wasn’t ready for it. Panic welled inside her. “Don’t take any notice of what I said. I know last night didn’t mean anything. You needed comfort, and so did I—there’s nothing wrong with that. I wasn’t trying to force you into something you’re not ready for.” She put a hand on his arm, and to her relief he didn’t pull away. “All I was saying was that I enjoyed what we had, and I like you. Very much. I’d like to get to know you better. But I know you might not be ready for that. I wasn’t pushing, really.” She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry, she really wasn’t.

  Noel looked confused. “What are you talking about? I heard you talking to Jackson about getting married and having children. I thought you were saying you wanted to get back with him.”

  She stared at him. “No. God, no! He was telling me he wanted to get back with me, but I don’t want that. I told him it was over, Noel. I realized last night, the way you made me feel…” She hesitated, but his blue eyes were wide, almost begging her to go on, and she knew she had to be honest with him. “I’ve never felt that way with Jackson.”

  Snowflakes fell on her hair and shoulders, but she ignored them, so desperate to make sure he understood what she was trying to convey to him.

  He lifted his glasses onto the top of his head, and his eyes searched her face. “What are you saying, Holly?”

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t know you very well. I mean, I’ve seen you at school for ages, but I haven’t gotten to know you until a few days ago. And it’s been a strangely surreal atmosphere, because we’ve been in forced proximity, like being taken hostage.” His lips twitched at that, but she forged on. “And you’ve been grieving, and I’m on the rebound. But…” She hesitated. I’m just crazy about you, he’d told her the night before. That must count for something, right?

  “But…” he prompted.

  “I think I’m falling for you.” There, she’d said it. “That doesn’t mean I expect anything in return, or that I know what the future holds. But the thing is…I’m willing to find out. I want to spend more time with you, Noel. I want to get to know you properly. But even if you don’t want to see me again, the point is that I’m interested enough to tell Jackass that it’s over. It’s made me realize, me and him—it’s never going to happen. We’re done, and it’s time for me to move on.”

  She stopped and looked out across the loch. “I know it’s a ridiculous thing to say, but I envy her.”

  “Nessie?”

  She gave him a wry, apologetic smile. “Ella.” He frowned, and she added, “Because you must have had something very special, for you to mourn her for so long. I envy her for having a man feel about her so strongly that he stays single for three years when she dies. That’s truly exceptional, Noel. I hope—wherever she is—she knows how lucky she is.”

  He met her gaze and held it. He smiled, bringing his hands up to cup her face. “You’re something else,” he said, kissing her nose. Then he wrapped his arms around her.

  Puzzled, Holly didn’t argue, putting her arms around his waist and enjoying his warmth, his scent, the feel of him against her. She’d explored his body in the night, covering every inch with her fingers and mouth, welcoming him inside her, loving him without saying it. And he’d been so passionate, worshipping her in return, unable to leave her alone, unable to stop touching her, even as they fell asleep. But was that just because he hadn’t had any for three years? Or was it because there was something special between them?

  She felt him kiss the top of her head. Then he said, “I didn’t think I’d make it through the first Christmas without her. I had to haul myself around like I had chains on me, like Marley’s ghost.” He kissed her head again. “But after that it started to get easier. Minutes went by when I didn’t think about her, and I’d feel guilty and get upset all over again. But the minutes turned into hours, and gradually the huge weight on my chest lifted, and it became easier to breathe.”

  Holly’s breath formed in white puffs around her face. The snow was still falling, and her blood had turned to ice, but she didn’t want to break the magic of the moment, entranced by his soft voice and his confession as he tried to explain himself.

  “By the second Christmas, I was living more normally, going to work, coming home, marking papers, watching TV,
just getting on with life, I suppose. I hadn’t dated again—to be honest, I hadn’t met anyone who I wanted to date—but there was also still this feeling that Ella was judging how much I loved her by how long I stayed alone. I felt so trapped by my grief, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to love again.”

  He kissed her hair for a third time. “And then you came to the school. I can remember the first time you came into the staff room, with your golden curls and your short skirts. I watched you walk across the room, and I bumped into a table.” She gave a little laugh—she hadn’t known that. “You were like a cold drink on a hot day—refreshing and uplifting—but every time I looked at you, I felt like I was betraying Ella. I knew it was time for me to move on, but I couldn’t shake that feeling. Whenever I spoke to you, I clammed up. As if when I eventually admitted I was ready to love another woman, I’d be admitting to Ella that I was over her.”

  Tears pricked Holly’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine how hard it had been for him, losing the woman he’d loved, especially when he was so young.

  He sighed. “I was preparing myself for another long and lonely Christmas. And then I found you in that office, crying. Sitting in that café, heartbroken, you were still the most beautiful thing in my life. I kidded myself that I was asking you to come to Scotland to get over Jackass, but deep down, I know I wanted you for myself.”

  She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold.

  “I fought myself. I kept thinking about Ella—I thought that if I talked about her on Christmas Eve, it would remind me what we had and convince me I should leave you alone. But the memories felt like Polaroids I was taking out to show you. I could remember the events, and what she looked like, but I couldn’t feel anything anymore. And then I felt guilty, and then I was just so exhausted by the guilt I decided I was done.”

  He moved back a little, bringing his hands up to cup her face again. “I’m ready to move on, too. I think I’m finally able to accept that loving another woman doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned Ella, that I’m replacing her with you. You’re so different from her, I couldn’t tell you. I loved her, but she’s gone, and now I have you. And it’s not the same at all.” He stroked her cheeks. “I’m crazy about you. And I can’t fight it anymore. It feels right—we feel right together, and I want you, Holly. I want you in my life, with your crazy talk and your curls and your beautiful music. You shine so brightly—you fill all the shadows inside of me.”

  “Oh, God, stop,” she said, tears pouring down her face. “Just kiss me already.”

  So, he kissed her, cupping her head, pulling her tightly against him, delving his tongue into her mouth, and Holly returned the embrace, threading her fingers through his hair and not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

  And then he wrapped her in his arms, so tightly she could barely breathe. “When I heard you on the phone, I thought you were going back to him. I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart.”

  “And when I came out and you’d left the bedroom, I thought I was going to come down and find you driving off in the car.”

  He chuckled. “That would be quite difficult, don’t you think?” He pointed down the slope to a large lump in the snow that she realized was the car.

  “Oh!” It was only then that she realized how much snow had fallen in the night. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll have to stay here until it clears.” He looked down at her, his blue eyes mischievous. “We’ll have to think of something to do until we’re rescued.”

  She wiped her face before the cold air could freeze the tears on her cheeks. She couldn’t believe he wanted her to stay. Yet another Christmas miracle, she thought, brushing her thumb over his lips. “There are plenty more DVDs to watch.”

  He brushed his hands up her back. “Don’t you want to know what I’ve got planned for your birthday?”

  “Please tell me you don’t have stockings on.”

  He laughed. “No. You’re spared that terrible fate.” He stroked down her arms. “You’re freezing. We should get you inside.”

  “I think I’m turning into Danny DeVito.”

  “Are you trying to turn me on?” Ignoring her giggles, he backed her inside and shut the door behind him as he nuzzled her ear. “I’ve got an idea of how to warm you up.”

  “Oh?”

  “How about a nice hot bath?”

  Her heart started to speed up. “Mm. The tub’s big enough for two.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Noel?”

  He was busy planting kisses down her neck, his hands undoing the tie of her dressing gown. “Hmm?”

  “I hope she has someone, too, and that she’s as happy as I am.”

  He frowned, and she realized he was probably wondering whether she meant Nessie or Ella. Then he obviously came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter. “Me, too.” He studied her face for a moment. “Happy birthday, Holly. Thank you for coming into my life.”

  “Merry Christmas, Noel the Brave. And you’re welcome.”

  She let him lead her upstairs, dropping her dressing gown along the way and laughing as he stared at her and tripped up the step. “I’m looking forward to unwrapping my birthday present again.”

  He led her into the bathroom, turned on the taps, and then let her start unbuttoning his shirt. “Hopefully you won’t decide to take it back and exchange it for something else.”

  “Oh, I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” she said huskily, sliding down his zipper. “I think this one’s for keeps.”

  About the Author

  Faye Robertson lives in the sub-tropical Northland of New Zealand with her wonderful husband and gorgeous teenage son. She writes fun, flirty, and sexy contemporary romances for the modern woman who likes intelligent, spirited heroines, and hunky but approachable heroes. She’s won several romance writing competitions and is a member of the Romance Writers of New Zealand. She would much rather immerse herself in reading or writing romance than do the dusting and ironing, which is why it’s not a great idea to pop round if you have any allergies. Do feel free to pop round her virtual home, however.

  www.fayerobertsonromance.com

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