Blood flushed into her brain in a dizzying rush. Together was suddenly her favourite word in the English language. Closer together would be even better. The distance between them was no longer a desert of hurt and misunderstandings but only two inches of carpet. Ava made it no inches in a split second, reaching out her arms, lifting her face. Closing her eyes as his lips came down hard and slow on hers and his arms folded her against his body.
Ava felt safe just feeling the thud of his heart echo through her.
But then need flickered into a flame and she made a slow movement of her hips.
He groaned his appreciation, shifting his hands down to cup her buttocks. ‘I’m not a fan of thick tights.’
She moved against him again, feeling his hardness. ‘I could take them off.’
‘Allow me.’ His hand slid up her thigh and under her dress.
She let her head tilt back as he began to pull the fabric from her, cursing gently as the elasticity worked against him and he had to use both hands.
He paused to nuzzle her neck. ‘Is there a way of securing the external doors from the inside?’
It was a breath of negativity to jar her from the moment but Ava could appreciate his thinking. Izz had come back before and would, at some time, come back again. Ava had no real suspicion that Izz would ever again do anything to hurt them but barring the doors, with Ava and Sam on one side and the world on the other, was symbolic. ‘Let’s do it.’ Leading him by the hand, she pulled the chains into place across first the back door and then the front, which left them nicely positioned to move on up the stairs and into her room.
Sam moving in to peel Ava’s clothes from her focused her. His hands, his mouth, his skin, his voice. As he slid inside her it was as if the past few days had never happened. All that mattered was now and their bodies moving against one another, slow and smooth, hard and deep.
Together.
Sam could indeed see the moon through Ava’s bedroom skylight. Ava was snuggled up to his side, her leg riding high over his, her hand on his chest. She was motionless but he knew she wasn’t sleeping.
He stroked the side of her face. ‘I’ve got something to ask you.’
‘Mmm?’ She turned her head so that she could press a tiny kiss on his hand.
He assumed a mock solemn voice. ‘Are we going to start dating properly? Before you answer, note that if you say “no” I’m going to be so pissed with you that I may have to get up and go home.’
Laughter shook through her. ‘Dating properly would be fabulous.’
‘Join us for Boxing Day tomorrow? I know you’ve got loads of work but—’
She gave a little wriggle. ‘Work can wait. Your mum would probably like it.’
He stroked her hair. ‘I’d definitely like it.’
‘I’d like it, too.’
From somewhere in the darkness a phone began to ring.
‘Damn, that’s mine.’ He kissed her forehead and extricated the top half of himself from her warmth so that he could hang over the side of the bed and feel around for his jeans on the floor. When he saw the name on the screen he answered quickly. ‘Van? Is everything OK?’
Vanessa sounded breathless. ‘I’m not sure, Sam. Wendy’s throwing up.’
He swore. ‘I’ll come straight home.’
Ava sat up beside him, naked breasts catching the moonlight. ‘What?’
‘Mum.’ He felt for the switch to the bedside light, fumbling through lack of familiarity. He slid out of her bed. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Of course.’ She watched him hop into his jeans.
He zipped himself up then halted. ‘Will you come, too?’
‘OK.’ She didn’t waste time in protesting or checking that he really, really wanted her there. She just wriggled into jeans and a top.
He kissed her hard then took her hand and rushed her downstairs and out to the car.
On the drive she seemed quite comfortable that he didn’t want to talk. She sat beside him, giving his thigh the occasional comforting pat and letting him get the excruciating eight miles to Stratford over with as quickly as possible.
Vanessa was visibly relieved when they burst into the flat. ‘She keeps throwing up and she’s got a fierce temperature.’
Sam’s hand shook as he dialled 999.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The best Christmas ever!
Boxing Day (early hours)
Ava woke with a start, confused by the overhead lights and the cramp in her back. She lifted her head slowly, wincing at the stiffness.
She’d fallen asleep against Sam’s shoulder. She gazed at him blearily.
He smiled and kissed her nose. ‘Do you want to go home? Neale will come for Aunt Van if she rings him so I’m sure he’d take you, too.’ Vanessa was curled awkwardly in a red vinyl chair on the opposite side of the wide corridor, her folded coat pillowed under her head.
Ava sat up properly, senses returning. The hospital smell, the night-time hush punctuated by occasional footsteps and trolley wheels. Wendy, somewhere behind one of those doors. ‘I’ll stay with you.’
Sam obviously hadn’t been to sleep. His face was lined with fatigue. ‘I don’t know how long it’ll be until we hear something. Even for you, this Christmas must be the worst.’
Slipping her hand into his she leaned in to press her lips against his cheek, just above where stubble shaded his jaw. ‘No. The best.’
‘We’ve really got to work on your Christmases.’ His eyes smiled. Then he looked at his watch and yawned behind his hand.
Ava didn’t remember falling back to sleep but she was suddenly jolted awake by hissing trolley wheels, hurrying attendants holding bags of fluid over the prone passenger. ‘Wendy?’ She tried to shake herself awake. ‘Where’s Vanessa?’ Vanessa was no longer sleeping in the red chair.
A reassuring arm slid around her. ‘Mum’s safely on a ward and they’re sending someone to talk to me soon. Vanessa’s gone home to bed.’ Sam’s voice was gravelly.
Relaxing, sorry for the person on the trolley but selfishly glad it wasn’t Wendy, Ava yawned. ‘I’ll go and find us some coffee.’
‘That would be fantastic.’ His hand glided familiarly down the back of her leg as she rose stiffly to her feet. ‘This isn’t the way I’d have chosen for us to spend the night together.’
She winked. ‘You definitely need to make it up to me.’
Heat flared in his eyes. ‘That’s a promise.’
It took a while for Ava to find a coffee machine that felt co-operative enough to dispense hot liquid. When she returned, Sam’s seat was empty, but she could see his head and shoulders through a circular glass aperture in a door at the end of the corridor, nodding and frowning along to a conversation. She sat down to wait.
Finally, he pushed back through the door, many of his frown lines smoothed away. ‘Infection,’ he reported. ‘Always a risk with cancer patients. But she’s responding to antibiotics and her temperature’s dropping already.’ He sipped from the plastic cup Ava handed him and then looked down at the muddy liquid as if wondering what it was meant to be. ‘They want her to see her oncologist but the thinking is that her chemo will have to be delayed by a couple of weeks. Her oncologist’s great and she’s going to make time to see her tomorrow.’
He lifted a hand to follow Ava’s cheekbone with his thumb. ‘I’m going to come back to take her home this afternoon when she’s had some rest and a couple more doses of antibiotics. Her home, I mean. Then I’ll go with her to her oncologist in Cambridge tomorrow and return to London when she’s well enough.’
‘So you can go home and sleep now?’
He nodded. ‘Let’s go.’ They navigated the corridors and stairs until they found the big glass sliding doors at the front of the hospital. It was already light. ‘Happy Boxing Day.’ He yawned. ‘This doesn’t count as our first date, by the way.’
Ava laughed, linking her arm through his and squeezing it. ‘It’ll be worth waiting for.’
Epi
logue
First date
Sunday 30 December
I’ll pick you up at 8, OK? xx
Very OK. Where are we going? Xx
For a meal. xx
Gaz’s Caff? xx
Not this time. I’m saving Gaz’s up for a special anniversary. Please prepare to turn off your phone and leave at home any other device that might make you contactable by the outside world. Tonight’s our first date. xxx
Sam was almost ready to set out for Camden. He’d allowed plenty of time because, on the 30th of December, London was busy enough to indicate that it was forgetting Christmas for another year. The lights were still up but lots of people had returned to work today and were no doubt already talking about New Year.
His phone vibrated with a text message. Ava. He clicked it open immediately, heart hopping in case something had happened to spoil his plans.
Phone me when you’re outside and I’ll come out.
He frowned. Why?
Izz’s back. She’s anxious about seeing you again. She and I have more or less kissed and made up but it might be awkward for you.
He paused for thought, rereading the conversation. Why couldn’t Izz have stayed away for one more hour? He’d wanted his and Ava’s first proper date to take place in a sort of magic bubble, separate from all the things that had haunted them for the past weeks. Harvey had remained blessedly silent since Christmas Day, although both Sam and Ava understood that that didn’t mean he’d gone away forever. Wendy was in as good a place as she could be.
But now part of Ava’s mind would be preoccupied by Izz-related anxieties instead of all of her mind being occupied by Sam.
See you soon xxx
He slid his phone back into his pocket.
Sam rang the doorbell fifteen minutes before he was due, willing to exasperate Ava for not skulking outside in the dark as requested.
And, bingo. The door was opened by the tall figure of Izz, surprise, dismay and discomfort chasing one another across her face when she saw who was waiting on her doorstep. Ignoring the social convention of waiting to be invited in, Sam brushed past her and into the lit hallway. ‘I’ve come to pick Ava up, but I thought you and I had better clear the air first.’
From above, he heard the sound of running feet. A breathless Ava rounded the turn of the stairs. Her dress was twilight blue, picking up the colour of her alarmed eyes. Her hair streamed loose over her shoulders.
Slowly, he smiled. ‘You look amazing.’
‘You look early,’ she returned. Her gaze jumped to Izz.
‘Sorry. You can never tell what the traffic’s going to do.’
Her expression suggested that she had a pithy comment or two about that, and about him coming to the door instead of waiting outside. But she glanced again at Izz and said nothing.
‘It looks as if you’re almost ready. Although shoes and a coat might be an idea.’
Her lips set. ‘I haven’t put my hair up.’
His gaze travelled over the mass of hair shining in the overhead light. ‘It looks great as it is.’
Ava didn’t move back up the stairs.
‘I’ll have a word with Izz about her contract while you get your things,’ he encouraged, knowing she could hardly insist on being present during that conversation.
‘Right.’ Slowly, she turned and disappeared back around the turn of the staircase. Sam waited until he’d heard her move onto the flight above. Only then did he turn to Izz.
Her gaze was fixed on the hall wall. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I was completely out of order. Are you …’ She swallowed noisily. ‘Are you cutting my contract short?’
‘You were worse than out of order. What you did was gross misconduct and there are no excuses.’ He let her stew for ten seconds. He even waited while one big tear oozed out of the corner of her eye. ‘So I’ve changed your access privileges to reflect my altered faith in you.’
Her gaze flipped up to meet his. ‘I’m staying?’
‘If you want to. Mainly, if I’m honest, because it will make my life easier.’
Her shoulders sagged. ‘With Ava.’
‘Because you’re good at the job,’ he corrected. Then he added, honestly, ‘And with Ava. But,’ he made his voice soft, ‘now that we’ve sorted Harvey out you’re the only way that those images can get loose.’
She pulled herself up to her full height, eyes flashing. ‘I was drunk when I did that stuff. I’d never hurt Ava on purpose!’
‘Then you’d better hope that you don’t drunkenly hurt her again. You only get this one chance.’
She swallowed audibly. ‘Thank you. I appreciate you letting me see out my contract. What about Patrick?’
‘When he returns from his skiing trip Patrick will be looking for another opportunity. We agree it’s for the best. His position at Jermyn’s is not that of a short-contract employee, like you. He’s an associate and I can’t half-trust him. His actions have to be above reproach.’
‘I understand.’ Izz nodded dolefully.
Having been the stern boss, Sam allowed his voice to soften. ‘Izz, just because he’s parting ways with Jermyn’s doesn’t mean you can’t see him again. I expect his phone’s switched on.’
Izz gave him an uncertain smile. ‘You mean I should …?’
He shrugged. ‘Your call.’
‘Yes. Literally.’ She looked struck. Then smiled, tentatively. ‘Thanks. Regarding Jermyn’s, I mean. Most people wouldn’t have given me another chance. I won’t let you down.’ She melted away towards the sitting room, repeating, ‘Thanks,’ over her shoulder.
Sam heard Ava’s footsteps on the stairs again and waited in silence. When she arrived, her hair loose down her back, he pulled her close enough to kiss. Then opened the door and led her out into the night.
They chatted in the car: idle, catching-up talk. Tod was home but Louise had stayed with her family for another couple of days. Graeme and Katherine had declared themselves in love with Christmas, which was a bit rich, considering, and were already pestering Ava to say she’d join them in Alsace next year for at least a week. They were adamant that she’d adore the town of Muntsheim and were already making plans to take her to see the Christmas lights of Kleber Place in nearby Strasbourg. Harvey was still keeping a low profile but Ava had talked next steps through with a counsellor from No Blame or Shame ready for if he popped up again, which gave her a feeling of having at least some control over the situation.
Wendy was home and resting. Her chemo had been delayed for two weeks while she regained her strength. Sam recounted his conversation with Izz.
Ava turned to him with her eyes shining. ‘Really? Oh, Sam, I’m so glad! I was going to ask you—’
‘I guessed, which is why I got it out of the way this evening. Now you don’t have to spend any of our first date coaxing me to give her another chance. Deal?’
‘Deal.’ She beamed. Ava hadn’t really been paying much attention to their route, but when Sam drove into the garage under his building she woke up to her surroundings. ‘Your place?’
His grin gleamed in the low lighting. ‘Do you mind? I’ve held a booking for a restaurant if you’d rather, but dinner’s in the oven upstairs, and,’ he flipped open his seatbelt and hers, then leaned across to scoop her up, his voice not much more than a whisper, ‘I want to be alone with you.’
Suddenly she was breathless. ‘Cancel the restaurant.’
He laughed and kissed her, taking his time, her lips, her face, moving on down to her throat.
When they eventually got up to his flat she found he’d set up a bistro table near the glass wall, flickering candle flames reflecting in the glass and silverware, delicious smells wafting from the big black oven. She threw off her coat, switched her phone to ‘do not disturb’, dropped it into her bag and dumped her bag on a chair. ‘The world is shut out.’
‘Finally.’ Sam’s shirt was crisp and white, he was freshly shaven, his hair falling over his forehead and curling behind his ear
s. She wasn’t sure who moved first but suddenly she was in his arms and he was almost lifting her out of her shoes to hold her against him as if he were inside her already.
Her brain turned to fuzz as his hands curved around her buttocks and his mouth whispered over hers. She nibbled gently at his lips, making him groan.
‘Dinner could wait,’ he murmured.
‘But you’ve gone to so much effort,’ she teased.
‘Don’t mind me.’ He hoisted her up onto the dining island, shoving aside a barstool so that he could place himself between her knees, his hands moving surely to her breasts.
She let her head fall back, absorbing the feel of him, tracing his shoulders through his shirt as his hands passed over the skirt of her dress and up under the hem. Licking flames of desire burned in every place he touched her.
Then he stopped, lifted her down from the surface and smoothed her clothes back into place.
She opened her eyes and looked at him enquiringly.
‘No. We’re going to have a date.’
‘Seriously?’ His hardness against her told her that it had cost him something to halt where they’d been going. But then she looked around at the beautifully laid table, catching a waft of whatever was cooking, and she understood that he was drawing a line. ‘I suppose it would be a shame to waste all this.’
‘And I have plenty of Christmas champagne left.’ He reached over and dragged a cooler near, pulled out a misty-cold bottle, popped the cork and poured, the hiss of the froth loud in the otherwise silent room.
Ava pressed the glass against her cheek. ‘I need to cool down.’
He laughed. ‘Just until after dinner. Come and help me with the food.’
Apart from a short interval where he became distracted by a need to discover whether he could drink champagne from the hollow of her collarbone, he kept his attention on preparing the meal until it was time to extract the coq au vin and rosemary roast potatoes from the oven.
The Christmas Promise Page 29