Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances

by Rosalind James

  He lifted up and rolled her onto her back, half-lying on top of her and pinning her to the mattress. “Now then, enough about me. Let’s talk about you and how beautiful your breasts are.”

  Skye chuckled, then sighed when he closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked. She’d talk more to him about it later. For now, though, she gave herself over to his ministrations, and they made love leisurely, relaxed and content beneath the rays of the summer sun.

  *

  Just before six, they walked into Aqua Blue to see the rest of the gang already seated around one of the large tables. Fox was the only one missing, and Skye knew he’d be fussing in the kitchens, even though he was supposed to have handed over to his second chef for the evening.

  The restaurant was decorated for Christmas, and every table bore a centerpiece made from real pohutukawa flowers, the scarlet petals and green leaves complementing the décor.

  Everyone cheered as they walked up, and Skye smiled, a little bashful bearing in mind Owen had his fingers laced through hers and was refusing to release them, even though she’d given her hand a tug.

  “Hey, guys.” She gestured at the three people Owen hadn’t been introduced to yet. “This is Caitlin—she’s the fiancée of Fox, who runs the restaurant. He’ll be out in a minute.” Owen shook hands with her. “And this is Elle,” Skye continued, “Caitlin’s sister—they run Treats with Tasha and Maisey.” Owen shook hands with her too. “And finally, this is Stuart, Elle’s partner.”

  “I hear you have a chocolate Lab,” Stuart said, shaking his hand.

  “Yeah, Mozart. He’s probably sticking pins in a doll of me for leaving him at home.”

  Stuart grinned. “Cool name—my boxer’s called Chaucer.”

  “Ah, I love boxers. Mad as possums, but so loveable.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Owen had won a friend there, Skye thought with amusement—any praise of his dog and Stuart became your best mate.

  “Come and sit down,” Maisey said. “These bruschetta are to die for.”

  Skye took the seat opposite Kole, and Owen sat beside her. The table was littered with plates of antipasto, including artichoke hearts, shaved prosciutto, olives, capers, roasted red and yellow peppers, anchovies, mushrooms, various cheeses, grilled bread bruschetta topped with tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil, and a vegetable terrine.

  “Wow.” Owen took a piece of the bruschetta off a plate Caitlin offered him. “These look fantastic.”

  “We’re going Italian tonight,” she said. “Fox has cooked enough food to feed half of New Zealand. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving.” He shoved the whole piece in his mouth in one go.

  “That’s what you get when you work up an appetite in the afternoon,” Maisey said mischievously.

  Skye met her gaze with a glare, but it was too late—the others were fighting back laughter around the table. She glanced at Owen, embarrassed, but he just looked highly amused and shrugged as if to say If the cap fits…

  She rolled her eyes and popped an olive into her mouth while he helped himself to the terrine. “I should have known better than to bring him to meet you lot.”

  “If he can’t take a bit of teasing, he’s not going to fit in very well.” Tasha placed one slice of prosciutto and one of cheese on a piece of focaccia and took a large bite, then winked at Owen.

  “I’m a man,” he said. “I can take it. I’ll save my tears for when I get home.”

  Skye smiled at him. He was going to fit in fine.

  “Hey, how’s everyone going?” Fox walked up to the table, still wearing his chef’s coat and checked trousers. “Hi, Skye.”

  She rose and kissed him, then introduced Owen, and the two shook hands. “Fantastic terrine,” Owen said. “I had something similar in Rome, but it wasn’t as good as this.”

  Fox’s eyebrows rose. “Thanks.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Greek yoghurt, feta cheese, zucchini, eggplant… It’s pretty easy to make.”

  “Well, I’d never have guessed. It tastes like it took you hours.”

  “Cool.” Fox beamed.

  Another friend made, Skye thought.

  “Are you joining us?” Caitlin asked her fiancé.

  “I’m just—”

  “Goodness,” she scolded. “Leave Rachel to it and come and sit down.”

  He sat beside her, throwing her a glare. She stuck her tongue out at him. That made him chuckle, and he leaned across to whisper something in her ear that made her blush.

  Skye looked around the table, listening to the conversation bubble along as the waiters brought out the starters and everyone helped themselves to wine or ordered soft drinks from the bar. Owen had slotted straight in as if he’d known them all for years. He was talking about rugby now, joining in with the discussion about the upcoming All Blacks game the next day against the Wallabies. The guys made a point of asking his opinion about the squad, and everyone nodded when he suggested a starting lineup.

  Warmth spread through her that her family and friends seemed to like him. She was very lucky to be surrounded by such loving and supportive people. It hadn’t always been this way. The last time she’d visited her hometown, Kole had still retained the aggressiveness that had flourished after Harry died, while Maisey had seemed childish and immature, forever playing pranks and acting as if there was no tomorrow. Both of them had grown up and settled down, though. It was odd to think Kole was getting married the following weekend, and Maisey later the following year. Before long, they’d have mortgages and kids, and it only seemed like yesterday they were children themselves. Where had the time gone?

  Briefly, she thought of Harry, but she pushed the memories away. She didn’t want to feel sad that evening.

  “Well, Owen, now we know you’re into sport…” Kole glanced at Joss, then at Stuart, and they both grinned and nodded. “What are you up to tomorrow?”

  Owen sat back in his chair and sipped from his glass of red wine. “I’m hesitant to admit not much as I sense something coming…”

  Skye met Elle’s gaze, and she winked. Skye sighed—poor Owen. She’d known he’d be dragged into it too.

  “There’s a charity gala thing happening over at the high school where Stuart teaches,” Kole said. “It’s raising money for Starship—the children’s hospital. There’s going to be a netball match, guys against girls, and we’re all taking part. We wondered whether you’d like to join us?”

  “Netball?” It was a popular sport in New Zealand played mainly by women, topped in popularity only by rugby. Owen probably knew all the rules and would have seen the national team, the Silver Ferns, on TV, but he wouldn’t have played it much since school.

  He glanced at Skye, who raised an eyebrow. “Are you playing?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Will you be wearing a netball dress?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m in.” Netball dresses were famously tight and short.

  Everyone burst out laughing. “It’s how we got these guys to play too,” Caitlin said, gesturing at Fox and Stuart. “Works every time.”

  Skye grinned, leaning back as a waiter approached to lay her main course in front of her. It was a plate of ravioli in a tomato sauce, and it smelled heavenly.

  Suddenly, though, a thought struck her. “Hey, Fox, what’s in the ravioli?”

  “Beef and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese—quite nice, if I say so myself.”

  Shit. She hadn’t known Owen didn’t eat meat until earlier and thus hadn’t been able to tell Fox, who would be horrified to think he’d served beef to a vegetarian.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Owen. “I should have rung the restaurant—I’d forgotten it was a set meal.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured back.

  But Fox had picked up something was wrong. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, no,” Skye waved a hand, not wanting to put her foot in it.

  Fox knew her well enough,
though. “Skye…”

  She caved. “It’s just…Owen’s a vegetarian. I didn’t know until about an hour ago.”

  “Please,” Owen said, “don’t worry about it, it’s not a problem.”

  “Nonsense.” Fox gestured to one of the waiters, who came forward to remove the plate. “Scott, ask Rachel to bring a portion of the pumpkin gnocchi, please.”

  “Really…” Owen stared helplessly at the disappearing waiter. “I don’t want to cause a fuss.”

  “No fuss,” Fox said. “We always have a vegetarian alternative.” He continued to talk about the rugby, and within minutes the waiter had returned with the new dish, which Owen accepted with a smile.

  “It’s delicious,” he said after eating a forkful. “Thank you.”

  “No problem at all.”

  It wasn’t mentioned again, but as the conversation continued on, Owen’s hand slid under the table to hold hers. He was touched by the effort her friends were making with him, she thought. She was so glad he’d come with her.

  The plates were eventually cleared away, and the waiters distributed the dessert—a gorgeous panna cotta served with wild berries.

  Skye ate it dreamily, enjoying the richness of the cream against the sharpness of the berries as she listened to the conversation continue around her.

  She was halfway through when she glanced up to see a small group of diners enter the restaurant. Her gaze passed over them, then snapped back to fall on the features of a small, slender woman dressed in a black top and jeans. The woman had aged a little since she last saw her, but she was recognizable, and as Skye’s brain registered who she was, all the blood drained from her cheeks and her head began to spin.

  Chapter Twelve

  Owen finished off the one glass of wine he’d allowed himself and turned to Skye. She’d been digging into her panna cotta, making the most of the sweet dessert, although she’d now paused and lowered her spoon to her plate.

  “Are you going to finish that?” He looked longingly at the remaining few spoons, having finished his a few minutes ago. How did women manage to eke dessert out like that?

  She didn’t reply, so he raised his gaze to her face. She’d gone completely white, and she was staring across the room.

  Following her gaze, he saw she was looking at a small group of people who were being shown to a table by a waiter. There were two men and two women, presumably couples. As he watched, one of the woman glanced around the room, and her gaze fell on Owen’s table. The woman froze, her eyes meeting Skye’s. Obviously, the two women knew each other. Hurriedly, the woman lowered her gaze and turned, taking a seat so her back was to them.

  “Who’s that?” he asked, turning back to Skye.

  Skye blinked and focused on him, then forced her lips into a smile. “No one.” She picked up her spoon and pushed the dessert around the plate a bit, then dropped the spoon again. “Excuse me a moment.” She stood and walked off toward the ladies’.

  Owen frowned, looking over at the other table. The woman whose back was to them hadn’t turned around.

  “What’s up?”

  He glanced at Maisey, who’d obviously spotted his concern. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the table.

  She looked across. “I don’t know, I…” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Is it…” Her jaw dropped, and she closed her eyes for a moment. “Fuck.”

  Kole overheard her, and followed her gaze when she opened her eyes. “Ah.”

  By now, Elle and Caitlin were looking as puzzled as Owen felt. Stuart and Fox exchanged a glance, though, as if they both recognized the woman.

  “What’s going on?” Owen asked more firmly this time.

  Kole leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did Skye tell you about what happened to Harry?”

  Owen nodded. She’d explained how their brother had died in a motorcycle accident after a row with his girlfriend.

  “That woman was his girlfriend,” Maisey said. “The one who broke up with him the night he died.”

  Elle and Caitlin’s eyes widened. “Crap,” Elle said.

  Fox went to get to his feet. “You want me to tell them to leave?”

  “Good God, no.” Kole shook his head. “It was years ago. No point in everyone getting upset about it now.”

  Joss leaned close to Maisey and murmured, “You okay?”

  She just nodded and smiled. “I’m fine. Kole’s right. No point in getting our knickers in a twist about it now.”

  “I think Skye’s upset, though,” Owen said.

  Maisey’s brow creased. “She was very close to Harry. She took his death very hard. I don’t think she’s ever got over it, to be honest.”

  “Perhaps it would be best if we left,” Owen said. “We’ve nearly finished, anyway.”

  Kole nodded. “Would you be kind enough to take her home?”

  “Actually, she was going to come back to my place in Kerikeri. She might not want to now, but it would be best if she’s not alone.”

  Maisey smiled. “Thank you, Owen. I’m so glad you came to find her. She’s been completely lost the last few weeks.”

  He gestured to the slogan on his T-shirt. “Being part of Search and Rescue comes in handy sometimes.”

  They all chuckled.

  “I’ll check she’s okay,” Maisey said, and got up to go to the ladies’.

  Owen stood and tucked his chair under the table. “Could I pay for our dinner, Fox?”

  “Sure.” Fox led him over to the till. “Okay to divide by ten?”

  “Yeah, no worries.” Owen swiped his credit card and punched in the number. “Great food, by the way. And thanks for the vegetarian gnocchi. I appreciate it.” Not every restaurant in New Zealand would have been so accommodating. Vegetarianism was still regarded with suspicion amongst many of the meat-eating Kiwis.

  “Cheers. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Fox gestured with his head toward their table. “They’ve been really worried about Skye. She’s been so quiet. Today was the happiest I’ve seen her in years.”

  Owen couldn’t help a glow of pleasure at the compliment. “That’s cool. It’s just a shame she’s leaving in February.”

  Fox shrugged. “Who knows what will happen between now and then? Nothing’s set in stone.”

  “True.” He took the receipt and tucked it in his wallet. “Thanks.”

  Maisey exited the corridor and walked toward him.

  “Is she okay?” he asked, concerned Skye wasn’t with her.

  Maisey held out her hand palm down and tilted it from side to side, pulling a face. “I told her you were going to take her home. She’s gone out the back door and said she’ll meet you by the cars.”

  “Sure.” He walked over to the table and said goodbye to them all.

  “Eleven o’clock tomorrow for the netball match,” Stuart said.

  Owen grinned. “We’ll be there.”

  “The girls are going to trounce us, you realize,” Joss pointed out.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Giving them a wry smile, Owen headed off.

  His smile faded as he exited the restaurant. The fact that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to walk back into the room concerned him. Why did she feel so bad? Was it really because the woman had reminded her about the death of her brother? Or was it more than that?

  He looked up and down the street, terrified for a moment she’d taken off and headed for the airport, never to be seen again. Then his gaze fell on her, and he blew out a sigh of relief. She stood on the edge of the harbor, looking down at the water, her arms wrapped around her waist.

  He walked up, slowing as he reached her. “Lovely evening.” The setting sun had flooded the water with orange, and the sky was a palette of pinks and mauves.

  She nodded. “It’s beautiful.” Glancing up at him, she gave him a wary look. Was she expecting him to berate her for leaving? To tell her she should grow up, go back with the others?

  “I’ve paid for us both,” he said. “Ready to head off?
”

  Her eyebrows lifted a fraction, and she blinked up at him. Then, just as she had earlier, she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him.

  He squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “You still coming back with me?”

  She lifted her face. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Come on.”

  He led her to his car, opened the door for her, and she slid in. He walked around the car and got in the other side.

  “Sorry if there’s a doggy smell.” He inserted the key into the ignition. “Mozart and I spend a lot of time in here.”

  “It’s not that bad. Am I in his seat?”

  Owen pulled away. “He’s supposed to sit in the back, but I have to admit he usually ends up there with his head out the window.”

  She smiled, but he saw her look in the rear view mirror at the restaurant as he drove down the road.

  “You want to talk about it?” He kept his gaze on the road. He wanted her to, but he was certain if he pushed her, she’d clam up.

  She shrugged. “Not much to say.”

  It wasn’t an outright no, so he decided to give it another go. “What was her name again?”

  “Who?” she asked, although she must have known who he meant.

  “Harry’s girlfriend.”

  She glanced up at him. “The others told you who she was?”

  “Yeah.”

  She sighed. “Her name’s Kim.”

  “And he had an argument with her the day he died?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about?”

  She looked out of the window. “She broke up with him. He was angry, and he drove home on his motorbike and crashed.”