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

by Rosalind James

  The picture she conjured up spread a warm glow through him. “I like that idea.”

  “I thought he might be jealous of me for taking your attention, but he hasn’t been like that at all, so I think he’ll love a tiny person.”

  Owen curled the strand of hair around his finger again, for the first time letting himself think about a future where he had Mozart, Skye, and the baby, all together. It was all too new and uncertain, though, and he was too afraid of losing them all to let his imagination run away.

  Instead, he decided to concentrate on the here and now. Mozart might not be with him, but he was in the best care, and nothing would be gained by worrying himself sick about him. Yes, he’d lost his last dog, Amalie, Sammy, Robert, and his parents, and each of them had eroded away a little of his faith in the world.

  But at the moment, he had a beautiful woman in his bed who’d just told him she was having his child and wanted to make a go of it with him. For the first time in many, many years, he was going to have his own family, people he could love and protect and who would be there for him. He wouldn’t be alone, and he had to count his blessings for that.

  He edged a little closer to her and slid an arm around her waist. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. My boobs are a bit tender. I’m torn between wanting to be excited and being afraid because it’s still early and there’s always a chance of miscarriage, but I guess that’s normal.”

  “I would think so. I know you’re not supposed to announce it for the first three months.”

  “We’ve kind of blown that out of the water,” she said wryly. “I think everyone except my parents knows.”

  He laughed. “Yeah.” Sliding his arm around her front, he trailed his fingers down over her stomach. “It’s odd to think he or she will grow inside here.”

  “I’m going to get hugely fat and you won’t love me anymore.”

  He grinned. “I told you—I’m quite the opposite.”

  “Really? I don’t get that. I would have thought it would be a real turn off.”

  “Maybe it’s because the fear of knocking you up has vanished.”

  She chuckled. “I suppose…”

  “Or perhaps it’s because there’s something so primitive about it all. That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To carry on the human race. It’s a drive that’s buried deep in our genes, and it’s prehistoric and feral.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing her pale neck, and kissed down it.

  She tipped her head to the side and moved her hips, pushing against his erection. “Feral, eh? I thought you were tired?”

  “What can I say? I’m exhausted, but you’re here and naked. My body never does what I tell it to anyway.”

  He spoke the truth—his brain wasn’t sure he could summon enough energy to make love to her, but his body had other ideas. It wasn’t as bad as when he was a teenager and used to get an erection just by sitting on a moving bus, but put a hot naked girl in his bed—especially one who was having his child and had just promised she loved him—and he didn’t stand a chance.

  Pulling her close against him, he stretched out comfortably and spent some time kissing her, enjoying the softness of her lips, the slick slide of her tongue, the little moans that escaped her when he brushed his hands down her back to her butt. Her whole body was like a soft velvet cushion fitting snugly to his, and he didn’t complain when after only minutes she hooked a leg over his hips, shifting a little on the mattress. The tip of his erection sank into her moist flesh, and then she pushed down and he slid right inside her.

  He gasped, and she murmured her approval and wrapped her arms around him so they were pressed against each other. It was impossible to get any closer to her, and he reveled in the feeling, wishing he could stay like this forever and never let her go.

  She began to move, lifting her hips and pushing them down again so that he slid in and out of her. Kissing her while she moved, he stroked her breasts, making sure to keep his touch gentle. She rewarded him with a groan, more moisture easing his thrusts. He tightened his fingers on her butt, pulling her tightly to him so he could grind himself against her.

  They continued to move slowly, and he let his desire build rather than chasing it for a change, just enjoying being close to her, being inside her. The memory of her declaration of love was like a ribbon binding them together, giving his passion an added glow he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t thought making love to her could get any better, but the knowledge that she was here to stay eradicated the underlying feeling of panic that this could the last time they had sex. The thought that was the first of many, many such moments to come enabled him to finally relax and enjoy the moment.

  Her breathing changed, becoming ragged and harsh, and he lifted his head to watch her as she came, loving the way her nails dug into his back, the gasps that escaped her lips, and the tight pulse of her muscles around him. Only when she’d finished did he give in to the climax that had been waiting in the shadows. Heat rushed through him, and he clung to her, their skin slick with sweat, her mouth hot on his as she tried to capture his gasps. It was slow, sweet, and beautiful, and the accompanying rush of emotion—of exhaustion and relief—brought him near to tears again.

  The dizziness of passion subsided gradually, and he relaxed into the pillows, only half conscious of Skye lifting herself off him, shifting on the bed, then coming back to place soft kisses on his face. “Go to sleep,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  Briefly, he thought of Mozart, and sent him his love across time and space, hoping that when he awoke, the news about the Lab would be good. He wasn’t sure if there was a God, but he sent a mental message to anyone who might be listening in, and asked them to watch over the dog through the night.

  Then he fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Get your feet off the table,” Caitlin scolded. “Honestly. Anyone would think you were brought up in a barn.”

  Fox blew her a kiss. “Come here and make me.”

  She glared at him, and everyone else gave an oooh of warning.

  It was such a Kiwi Christmas Day, Skye thought as she glanced around the group of family and friends. They’d brought a small plastic Christmas tree complete with tinsel and decorations down to the poolside, where it sat in the corner, the baubles glinting in the strong sunlight. They’d eaten their lunch of barbecued kingfish and lamb steaks, potato hash, veggie kebabs, and fruit salad, and now they were all relaxing around the pool under umbrellas, drinking wine or, in Skye’s case, lemonade, listening to festive songs on someone’s iPod, and dipping in and out of the water when they got too hot.

  Skye watched, amused, as Caitlin tried to push her fiancé’s feet off the low table, but he caught her hand and stopped her. Leaping to his feet, he scooped her up into his arms and then, before she could fight him off, he ran the short distance to the pool and jumped in.

  Everyone burst out laughing, certain Caitlin would go ballistic when she finally surfaced. Fox pushed himself to his feet, lifting her with him, and she squealed and splashed him, but he pulled her into his arms and planted his lips on hers, and she gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “It’s a good job she was wearing her bikini,” Maisey commented, reaching for another mince pie. “I can’t imagine her reaction would have been quite so positive if she’d been fully dressed.”

  Skye laughed, turning in her seat as Owen let himself through the gate and came to take his seat beside her, leaving his phone on the table. She stretched out her legs and put them in his lap. “How is he?”

  He massaged her feet with his warm hands. “Good. Jim said he’s making excellent progress, and he’ll be able to come home in a few days.”

  She breathed out a sigh of relief, and everyone else around the pool cheered. Owen grinned, but she could see the emotion hovering behind the smile.

  It had been a hard few days. Mozart had made it through the first night, but the surgery had turned out to be more complicat
ed than Jim had envisaged, and the vet had decided to keep him in for a while until he was sure the Lab was strong enough to cope without a catheter.

  Owen had been like a lost soul without him, but by Christmas Eve the dog had started to show some improvement, and now it looked like he was on the mend. It would be a long, slow journey to recovery, and their lives certainly weren’t going to get easier for the foreseeable future, but neither of them minded. Skye was just relieved Mozart had survived and that Jim said he was healing nicely and would probably have little to no issues once he was up walking again.

  She made a mental note to ring Nick Foster when they got home that night. He’d telephoned the day after the search to find out how Mozart was doing, and had said his family was distraught to think the Lab had been injured while rescuing Dylan. He’d promised to pay for the best care and equipment the dog needed to help him recover, and he’d also told Owen that he intended to speak to Owen’s boss and make a sizeable donation that would help keep the branch up and running. It was great news all round, and it had certainly contributed to the sense of relief they were all feeling.

  “I’d like to make a toast.” Kole leaned forward, picked up a bottle of wine, and made sure everyone’s glasses were topped up, including his wife’s. Elle held up two for Fox and Caitlin, who were still kissing in the pool, and Stuart took them over to them. Joss and Maisey raised their glasses, along with Fiona and Glen Graham, Skye’s parents.

  “To friends and family,” Kole said.

  “To friends and family.” They all toasted, then sipped their wine and cheered.

  “What a lovely day.” Tasha leaned back in her deckchair and tilted her face up to the sun. “We’ll have to have a game of cricket in a minute.”

  “I hate cricket,” Kole said.

  “Only ’cause you’re crap at it.”

  “Damn straight.”

  They all laughed. “It’s traditional to play on Christmas day,” Tasha protested.

  “Only if it’s boys against girls,” Caitlin called out. “That means we’ll win.”

  “No,” Maisey protested, “we’re one down, don’t forget. Skye can’t play.”

  “Why can’t I play?”

  “Because you’re pregnant.”

  Owen chuckled, and Skye rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as he is trying to stop me doing stuff. Pregnancy isn’t a disability.”

  “I know,” Owen said, “but you’re carrying very precious cargo.”

  Skye’s cheeks warmed, and she glanced across the group to her parents. Glen and Fiona’s smiles were genuine, though. She’d thought they’d be shocked and disapproving when they heard about her sudden relationship and pregnancy, but ultimately they just seemed thrilled she was staying, and they’d been nothing but supportive.

  “I agree with Owen,” Fiona said now, rising and coming over to kiss the top of her daughter’s head. “Best to be careful, darling.” She turned and beckoned to her husband. “Dishes.”

  He put down his paper and got up, as obedient as Mozart, and followed her in.

  Skye met Maisey’s gaze, and Maisey crossed her eyes. Skye giggled.

  “I’m having a swim before I get thrashed at cricket.” Kole finished off his drink and stood. He held his hand out to his wife. “Coming?”

  Tasha nodded. They walked over to the pool and Kole jumped in, curling up into a ball so that when he landed he splashed everyone in a thirty foot radius.

  “Jesus.” Tasha brushed the droplets of water off her legs. “He’s like a ten-year-old.” She stood at the deep end and did an elegant dive.

  “You know men are just boys with jobs.” Maisey waved to Joss, who’d also jumped in.

  Stuart grinned and held his hand out to Elle. “Come on.” The two of them followed.

  Maisey, Skye, and Owen watched, smiling, as the others messed around in the water. Only when she was certain they were having too much fun to be listening did Maisey lean forward and speak conspiratorially. “So come on then, how did it go?”

  A couple of days before, in an attempt to put the past behind her, Skye had finally admitted to Maisey what had happened all those years ago with Kim. She hadn’t included Kole in the conversation as she knew he’d only get angry, but Maisey had understood her need to talk and discuss what to do. They’d had a long chat, and had both decided it would be best if Skye paid Kim a visit.

  “I was really nervous,” she said. “Owen came with me, but he stayed in the car.”

  “Moral support,” he said, and smiled.

  Skye wriggled her toes in his lap, and he massaged her feet again. “Although I feel I’ve changed a lot over the years, I was worried that beneath it all I was still the same person. I was afraid if I stayed here I’d turn back into that angry, frightened girl again. But as soon as I was face to face with Kim, I realized how much we’d both grown up. She’s married now with a baby, and so much has happened in my life. I’m not the same person. I’ve grown and moved on, and although I never want to let go of Harry, the grief isn’t as intense as it was back then.”

  “I know what you mean,” Maisey said. “It’s only recently I’ve felt able to let go. I suppose it was natural to want to hang onto our feelings and memories. I felt that if I accepted I was ready to move on, Harry might think—wherever he is—that he didn’t matter to me anymore. But it’s not like that. He’ll always matter, but you can’t live in the past.”

  “That’s exactly what I said to Kim. I apologized for the things I said that night, and for upsetting her. I told her I knew she would have been upset when Harry died, and it was unfair to blame her for his death. She admitted she’d struggled for years with guilt, but her daughter was finally helping her get over that.”

  “I’m so glad it went well.”

  Skye shrugged. “I’m glad I saw her. We’re never going to be best friends or anything, but in a way I think she was as relieved as me to put it behind us.”

  “Mozart’s on the mend, and now you have the baby to look forward to as well.” Maisey smiled. “I’m so happy for you, sis.”

  She got up and came over to give Skye a big hug. Skye returned it, fighting back emotion. It would be lovely to spend some time with her sister again, and it would be nice for the baby to have aunts and uncles and cousins around him or her too.

  Maisey turned away quickly, suggesting Skye wasn’t the only one who’d filled up, and she went over to the pool, jumped in, and gave Joss a hug.

  Owen stroked Skye’s feet. “Feel better?”

  “I do. Maisey’s right, it does feel as if it’s all coming together.” She reached forward for her lemonade. “I have something else to tell you, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I rang that woman we met at the craft fair that day, do you remember?”

  “She had an odd name…”

  “Yes, Orianne. I told her I was interested in displaying some of my sketches there, and she was really keen. I thought I could do some drawings of local sights—the Stone Store, Kemp House, Rainbow Falls, that sort of thing. They might be popular with tourists.”

  “That’s a great idea.” He lifted her foot and kissed it.

  “Well, I have to earn a living,” she said, somewhat mischievously.

  He tipped his head to the side, exasperation crossing his face. “We’ve talked about this.”

  “You mean how you want me to be a kept woman?”

  “Pregnant, shoeless, and in the kitchen. Yep.”

  “Chauvinist.”

  “Rebel.”

  She grinned. “It’s okay, I quite like the idea of being a kept woman. But I’d like to bring some money into the house, and if I start now it’ll be a nice way of building up a local business I can continue once the baby’s born.”

  “True.” He kissed her other foot and smiled as she raised a hand to touch the pendant around her neck. “You really like it?”

  She lifted it to look at it. Although she adored his St. Anthony pendant, she’d missed seeing it on
his chest, and had insisted he take it back. So he’d bought her one for herself. It had the same picture of the saint and the baby on the front, but it was cut to sparkle in the sunlight.

  “I love it. Did you like your present?” As well as buying him a couple of other gifts, she’d framed the sketch she’d done of Mozart.

  “It’s wonderful—I can’t wait to show it to him.”

  She laughed. “I hope he likes it.”

  He stroked her feet again. “So when are you going to marry me, then?”

  “You’re still planning to nag me into submission?”

  “Yes. I told you, I’ll ask you every day until you give in.”

  She rested her head on the back of the chair and smiled at him. When he’d first asked her, she’d worried it was because he wanted to do things properly for the baby. But even though only a few days had passed, he’d been so happy that she’d decided to stay, so overwhelmingly loving and supportive, that she’d realized it didn’t matter whether she waited a week or year. She’d still end up marrying him, because she loved him more than any man she’d ever loved before, and the thought of having a child with him, and of spending the rest of her life with him, filled her with happiness.

  “Of course I’ll marry you, Owen.” She reached up and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb across his lips as they spread into a smile. “I love you. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do in this world than get married to you.”

  “I can think of one other thing I’d rather do.” To the delight of the others in the pool, he pulled her into his lap and nuzzled her neck. “However, it does mean taking you home and getting you naked.”

  “I’d be happy to.” She sank her hand into his hair and lifted her face to accept his kiss. “What better festive treat could a girl ask for?”