Nathan’s mouth came down to claim hers, his tongue delicately arousing as he licked and tasted her lips.
She pulled his belt free and tossed it to the floor. She undid the button, unzipped the zipper, and as his trousers fell to the floor he stepped out of them and removed his shirt.
‘Now me,’ she urged him.
She felt his hands take the hem of her jumper and lift it effortlessly over her head, and then he did the same with her tee shirt, his eyes darkening with desire as her long dark hair spread over her milky-white shoulders. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs drifting over her nipples through the lace, and she groaned, arching her back so that her breasts pressed into his hands.
His mouth found her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone, all the while causing sensations on her skin that she had not experienced for a very long time, awakening her body, making her crave his every touch.
He undid her jeans, sliding them down her long legs. His lips kissed their way down her thighs and then came slowly back up to find the lace of her underwear. Then he was breathing in her scent and kissing her once again through the lace.
She almost lost it.
When had she ever felt this naked? This vulnerable? And yet...she revelled in it. Gloried in it. She knew she needed to show him her vulnerability, show that despite that she still wanted to be with him. To trust him. After the way she’d treated him the other day, she needed him to know that she couldn’t be without him.
‘You’re so beautiful...’ he breathed, and the heat of his breath sent goosebumps along her skin.
His hands were at her sides, going round to her back. He found the clip on her bra and undid it. She shrugged it off easily, groaning at the feel of his hands cupping her breasts, properly this time, at the feel of his mouth, his kisses.
‘Nathan...’
She could feel his arousal, hard against her, and she unhooked his boxers, sliding them to the floor.
As he lay back on the bed she looked at him in triumph. This beautiful, magnificent man was all hers. And she’d so very nearly cast him aside!
She groaned as she thought of what she might have lost and lay beside him, wrapping her limbs around him so that they were entwined as their mouths joined together once more.
All he’d ever done was listen to her. Understand her. Give her space and time to be ready to talk to him. Where else would she find a man that patient? That understanding and empathetic?
He rolled her under him and breathed her name as his hands roamed her body, creating sensations that she had forgotten she’d ever felt before. She needed him so much. Longed to be part of him.
She pulled him closer, urging him on as he began to make love to her.
This was what life was about! Really living. Being a part of life—not merely existing. It was about celebrating a relationship, sharing fears and desires and finding that one person you could do that with. About opening up to another person and being okay about that.
Nathan had shared his own vulnerability, his multiple sclerosis. It must have taken him a great deal of courage. And he had shared Anna with her. Letting her get to know his daughter. He couldn’t have known that they would get on like this. Must have been worried that Sydney might reject them both once she got to know them.
I nearly did.
She suddenly understood how much pain he must have felt when she’d kicked him out and she pulled him to her once more, hoping as he cried out and gripped the headboard that he would finally see just how much he’d been right to trust her, after all.
She wrapped him safely in her arms and held on tight.
* * *
Afterwards, they lay in bed in each other’s arms.
Sydney’s head was resting in the crook of Nathan’s shoulder and he lay there, lazily stroking the skin on her arms. ‘I really missed you, you know...’
She turned and kissed his chest. ‘I missed you, too. I hated what I did.’
‘I understood. You were lashing out because what I said hurt you. You thought I was asking you to give up even thinking about your daughter.’ He planted a kiss on the top of her head. ‘I gave you the advice someone gave me once.’
She turned, laying her chin upon his chest and staring up into his face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘When I got my diagnosis I was in complete shock. It was like I was mourning my old life. The life in which I could do anything whenever I wanted, without having to think about muscle weakness or spasms or taking medication every day. I mourned the body that I thought would slowly deteriorate until it was useless, and I couldn’t get over that.’
‘What happened?’
‘Anna was born. I was euphoric about that. But then I started thinking about all the ways I might let her down as a father. What if I missed school shows, or parents’ evenings, or birthdays...? And then Gwyneth left, totally appalled by the fact that she’d got involved with someone with this illness, and that made me feel under even more pressure from myself. I couldn’t let Anna down! She only had me to rely on. I had to be well. I had to be positive. But something kept pulling me back towards feeling sorry for myself. I’d lost my partner and my health and I couldn’t get past that.’
She kissed his chest. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I went to a counselling group. It was led by a really good therapist. She helped me see that I was mourning a loss. I was mourning my future. She told me to look at it in a different way. Not to focus on what I’d lost, but on what I’d gained. I didn’t necessarily have a bad life in front of me, that—I had a beautiful baby daughter who loved me unconditionally and I knew what my limits might be. But they weren’t necessarily there. I had to celebrate the new me rather than mourn the old me. Does that make sense?’
She nodded, laying her head back down against his beautifully strong chest. ‘It does.’
‘Gwyneth leaving wasn’t about me. It was about her and what she could deal with. I couldn’t control her reaction, but I could control mine. And that’s why I decided to focus on the good that was coming. On what I could learn about myself in the process. Discovering hidden depths of strength.’
‘Did you find them?’
‘Oh, yes!’ He laughed, squeezing her to him. Then he paused for a moment and rolled above her, staring deeply into her grey eyes. ‘Have you?’
She nodded silently, feeling tears of joy welling in her eyes.
‘I think I’m starting to. Because of you.’
He smiled and kissed her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS THE afternoon of the Christmas market and nativity and Anna was incredibly excited.
Nathan hadn’t been able to get in touch with Sydney yesterday, being busy at work, but at least now he felt better about the direction they were heading in.
It was all going well.
When she’d slammed the door on the two of them and he’d had to walk away it had been the hardest thing he had ever done. Even harder still was the fact that Anna had been full of chatter about the kittens. When could she go and visit them again? Would Sydney mind if they went round every day?
He’d managed to distract her by getting her to read through her lines for her part in the nativity, and he’d been grateful when she’d gone quiet in the back of the car as she read her little script.
But now...? Everything was going well for them. He hoped he would get a moment to talk to Sydney, because he knew that this day would be hard for her.
She’d told him it was the anniversary of Olivia’s death. That she’d always faced this day alone in the past. He tried for a moment to imagine what it would be like if he was mourning Anna, but it was too dreadful. He dashed the thought away instantly.
There was so much to do. He’d promised to help out with setting up the marquees and organising the stands, and said he’d be
a general dogsbody for anyone who needed him.
Surely Sydney would be there too. She had stalls to organise. The Best Pet show to judge. He hoped he’d get a moment to talk to her, to make sure she was okay.
He parked in the pub car park and walked down to the square that already looked as if it was heaving with people and noise. Right now it seemed like chaos, but he hoped that by the afternoon, and for the nativity in the evening, it would all run smoothly and everyone would be entertained.
He searched for Sydney’s familiar long chocolate hair in the crowd, but he couldn’t see her amongst all the people bustling about.
This was his and Anna’s first Christmas in Silverdale, and he was looking forward to making new connections with people that he’d only ever met as patients. He wanted to let people see him as someone other than a doctor. To let them see that he was a father. A neighbour. A friend.
Tonight was going to go really well. He knew it. And hopefully some of the villagers who didn’t know him yet would get the opportunity to meet him and welcome him as a valued member of their community.
‘Dr Jones! How good to see you. Are you doing anything at the moment?’
Nathan noticed Miriam, the secretary of the committee, loitering within an empty marquee that had tables set up but nothing else. ‘No. How can I help?’
‘I’m running the tombola, and all the donated items are in boxes in the van, but I can’t lift them with my arthritis. Would you be able to?’
He smiled. This he could do. He was a strong man. He could lift and carry whatever she asked of him and he would do it. ‘A pleasure, Miriam. Where’s the van?’
Miriam pointed at a white van parked on the edge of the barriers. ‘You are a dear. A real bonus to our committee. We needed some new blood!’
He waved away her compliment. ‘I’m sure Dr Preston is hugely missed. I just hope I can fill his shoes.’
Miriam beamed at him. ‘You far surpass Richard Preston already, Dr Jones, just by my looking at you!’
Nathan grinned. ‘If I was thirty years older, Miriam...’
‘Thirty? Oh, you’re too kind! Much too kind!’
Nathan headed to her van, opened it up and started pulling out boxes. Some were very light, and he assumed they were full of teddy bears and the like. But others were considerably heavier and he struggled to carry one or two.
Whatever were people giving away—boulders?
He lugged the boxes over to the marquee, and just as he set down the last one he heard Sydney’s laugh.
Instantly his heart began to pound. She was laughing. She was here. She was helping out. Same as him. Just as she’d promised she would.
He looked about for her, and once he’d made sure Miriam was okay to empty out the boxes by herself found himself heading over to the pen that Sydney was building along with Mr Bradley from Wicklegate Farm—the owner of Bert the donkey.
‘Sydney!’
She turned at the sound of his voice. ‘Nathan!’
He kissed her on the lips in greeting—a gesture that earned a wry smile from Mr Bradley.
‘How are you doing? I meant to call you earlier—’
‘I’m fine!’ she answered brightly.
‘Really? You don’t have to pretend. I know today must be difficult for you. I thought that—’
‘Nathan... Honestly. I’m doing great.’
He tried to see if she was just being brave for him, but he couldn’t see any deception in her eyes. Perhaps she was doing okay? He stood back as she continued to build the pen, fastening some nuts on the final fence with a spanner.
‘It’s for Bert and the goats and things. What do you think?’
‘Erm... I’m no expert on animal holding pens, but these look good to me.’
She kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’ve got lots to do. Off you go! I know you’re busy, too. You don’t have to hold my hand. I’m doing okay. I’ve got through this day before.’
He stilled her hands. ‘You were on your own before.’
‘And I’m not now. I promise if I have a problem, or get upset, I’ll come and find you.’
‘If you’re sure...?’
‘I’m sure.’ She smiled at him. ‘I appreciate your concern. Oh, I almost forgot—I have Olivia’s costume for Anna.’ She stepped out of the pen and over to her car, opening the boot and bringing back a small bag. ‘It should fit. It’s all loose robes, and she can tie it tighter with the belt.’
He nodded, accepting the bag. ‘Thanks. She nearly had to wear what I’d made her.’
He would just have to trust her. She knew he would be in her corner if she needed him.
‘I’m around. Just give me a shout and maybe we can grab a snack later? Before it all kicks off?’
She blew him a kiss. ‘I’ll come and find you.’
‘I’ll hold you to it.’ He smiled and waved, and then, tearing himself away, headed off to deliver the costume to his daughter.
* * *
Sydney did as she’d promised. A few hours later, when the market was all set up and ready to open to the public, she sought out Nathan, She found him at the bakery tent, manhandling a giant gingerbread grotto scene to place it on a table, and they headed off to sit on the steps around the village Christmas tree.
Nathan paid for a couple of cups of tea for them both and then joined her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders in the cold evening air.
The Christmas market looked picture-postcard-perfect. The marquees were all bedecked with Christmas lighting, carols were being played over the PA system in readiness and—oh, the aromas! The scent of hot dogs, fried onions, candy floss, roasting chestnuts, gingerbread and freshly brewed coffee floated in the air, causing their mouths to water.
‘Looks amazing, doesn’t it?’ she said, looking out at all their hard work. It felt good to be appreciating—finally—the magic of Christmas once again.
‘It certainly does. Worth all those meetings we had to sit through.’
She laughed. ‘When it all comes together like this it’s hard to believe we managed to achieve it.’ She paused. ‘Did you get the costume to Anna? Did it fit?’
He nodded. ‘Perfectly. Thank you.’
They sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping their tea and just enjoying the sensation of being. Enjoying the moment. It was nice to sit there together, watching everyone else beavering away.
Nathan took her hand in his and smiled at her as she snuggled into his arms. But then she sat forward, peering into the distance.
‘Look! They’re letting everyone in. Come on—we have stations to man!’ She tossed her paper teacup into a nearby bin and headed off to her first job of the evening.
Nathan watched her go.
Was she really as unaffected by this day as she seemed?
He doubted it.
Frowning, he followed after her.
* * *
Silverdale was brimming with activity and the centre of the high street looked amazing. Sydney would have liked to truly immerse herself in the marvel of the beautiful fairy lights everywhere. To listen to the carol singers and their music. To taste the wonderfully aromatic food on display and talk to all the visitors and customers. Enjoy the floral displays.
But she couldn’t.
She knew she had work to do, but she was beginning to feel guilty.
Was she really pretending that today wasn’t the day? Had she deliberately tried to ignore it because she already knew how guilty she now felt? She hadn’t mourned as much. She hadn’t remembered her daughter the way she usually did today.
She felt bad—even if ‘usually’ mostly involved staring at photographs all day and often ended with her being a crumpled, sobbing heap.
Her heart felt pained. Just breathing seemed to be exhausting.
And yet she had to keep up a steady stream of false smiles and fake jollity for everyone she met or saw.
Was she lying to Nathan? Or to herself?
The stallholders were doing lively business, and she could see money changing hands wherever she looked. People she knew walked their dogs, or pushed buggies, or stood arm in arm looking in wonder and awe at their hard-worked-for Christmas Market. And now crowds were gathering at the main stage for the crowning glory of the evening—the nativity play.
She wandered through the tent with her clipboard, viewing the animals entered for the Best Pet competition. Their owners stood by, looking at her hopefully as she met each one, asked a little about their animal, remembering to remark on their colouring or lovely temperament and scribbling her thoughts on paper.
But she was doing it on automatic pilot.
Until she got to a black rabbit.
Lottie.
Lottie sat in her cage quite calmly, oblivious to all the hubbub going on around her. Her eye had healed quite well, and apart from a slight grey glaze to it no one would be able to guess that she had been attacked and almost blinded.
Sydney stared at the rabbit, her pen poised over her score sheet, remembering the first time Nathan had brought Lottie to her. How hard it had been to fight her feelings for him. How she’d tried to tell herself to stay away from him and not get involved. She hadn’t listened to herself. He’d wormed his way into her affections somehow, with those cheeky twinkling eyes of his—and, my goodness, it had felt so good to lie in his arms. Protected. Coveted. Cherished.
And he was making her forget. Wasn’t he?
No! Not forget. Just deal with it in a different way.
Losing Olivia had hurt like nothing she could ever have imagined. One minute her daughter had been lively, full of life, giggling and happy, and the next she’d wound up in a hospital bed, and Sydney had sat by her bedside for every moment, hoping for a miracle.
She’d felt so helpless. A mother was meant to protect her children—but how on earth were you meant to defend them against things you couldn’t see? Bacteria. Viruses. Contagion. They were all sneaky. Taking hold of young, healthy, vital bodies and tearing them asunder. All she’d been able to do was sit. And pray. And talk to her daughter who could no longer hear her. Beg her to fight. Beg her to hold on for a little while longer.
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