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

by Rosalind James

  “Millions, more likely,” Ellie said, still feeling his kiss, hearing ‘tonight then’ echoing through her brain.

  “So there might be dinosaur bones? Really?”

  Eyes grew wide. Antonia started to scrape harder with her trowel. It would take hours to make much impression. Uncovering any possible dinosaur was weeks away.

  Ellie saw Tony’s amused glance. “Can you find an old cow bone or something?” she muttered, flicking her eyes out over the rough ground. He took the hint and wandered off, returning a couple of minutes later with something concealed in his hand. She watched as he pushed it into a crack not too far distant.

  “There are some more shells over this way, Ellie,” he said. The twins scampered over to him, and the weathered old bone was duly discovered.

  “Dinosaur! Daddy—look, a real dinosaur bone!” The thrill factor was huge.

  Tony turned the bone around in his hand. “It just might be,” he said. “I suppose by some miracle it’s possible. What do you think it could have been? A big toe?”

  To Ellie it looked suspiciously like a sheep-shank discarded after a riverside barbecue. “Goodness,” she exclaimed, trying to keep a straight face.

  A few minutes later she checked her watch. “Nearly two-thirty. Teacher thinks it’s time for lessons in the classroom.” There were groans from the girls, but Tony agreed they’d been out in the sun long enough.

  As they drove back to Wharemoana, he reached across and caressed her thigh, running a finger from her knee up to the hem of her shorts, then down again. She shivered with the implied promise of intimacy to follow, and was surprised when he said, “School hasn’t finished for the year yet. Or not according to Bob and his wife. How did you swing it?”

  She lifted his hand away and dropped it on his own leg. “No mystery. I’m an on call relief teacher. A fill-in for when others get sick or schools are short of staff.”

  “So you don’t have a permanent class at the same school?”

  “Sometimes, but mostly not for long. And yes, I swap schools all the time.”

  He looked across at her, doubt in his eyes. “But why?”

  “The hourly rate is better. Simple as that. I wanted to get my house deposit together as fast as I could. It means I have to be ready every morning to jump into action plugging emergency gaps, but it’s a better deal moneywise.” She reached back and gathered her hair into a ponytail, then let it fall again. “We don’t all live in your nice clean easy world, Tony.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yeah—no mud, no dung, no floods or droughts in my world. No pests and diseases, no worries about draconian government regulations or overseas markets cancelling their orders at short notice. No problem staff. No tractor or quad bike accidents. Really nice and easy...”

  Ellie bit her lip. “Sorry. But you know what I mean. There’s only me to depend on, so I have to do the best I can.”

  She turned away and stared ahead at the ribbon of gravelled road. “When I saw your ad asking for a private tutor, I thought ‘why not?’ I’m a good teacher—you learn a heap when you’re facing new classes all the time. I was able to start straight away, and that seemed to suit Ginny.” She glanced over at him again. “And then the flat caught fire, and it was amazing to have the possibility of a job with accommodation.”

  The corner of Tony’s mouth kicked up. “It was even more amazing when you came bouncing into the kitchen yesterday.”

  “Surprise all round,” Ellie agreed, removing his wandering hand from her leg yet again.

  They arrived at Wharemoana soon after three. She bundled the twins into the schoolroom until four. The girls wanted stories of dinosaurs, and her mind kept wandering to Tony’s long golden back and broad shoulders—warm, strong, and slippery with sunscreen. As a teaching session it was far from productive.

  After that, she hurried to her bedroom and hid Cal’s photograph in the top drawer amongst her underwear. When she met Tony on the balcony tonight, their dark-haired, dark-eyed son would be safely out of sight, just in case.

  She sifted through the contents of the drawer. Her mother had given her a lacy ivory camisole and matching panties for her last birthday. She laid them on the bed in readiness, and found the short black skirt she was fond of. And an aqua top with thin straps to show off her sun-kissed shoulders. Not from Paris, but perfectly pretty.

  She drifted into the en suite bathroom and emerged a little later, clean, fragrant and just slightly nervous. After so many years it still felt right when Tony caressed her. Every nerve in her body sparked and burned for him, however much her sensible brain tried to deny the attraction. But...

  She shook her head as she wondered how to keep the truth hidden from him. Not just of Cal’s existence. Any relationship she embarked on with Tony would mean so much more to her than his coolly delivered ‘mutual pleasure, no strings’ description—and he must never know that.

  ~♥~

  All thoughts of an early departure to bed were wiped as she descended the stairs and found they had company.

  “Ellie—this is Gwen McGovern, and her husband Peter,” Ginny said. “Ellie’s here to give the twins some crash-tutoring before school starts next year,” she explained to the dinner guests.

  Ellie caught Tony’s rueful grin across the room. Presumably he’d forgotten they were entertaining this evening. She watched as he opened a bottle of merlot and began to pour it into beautiful big goblets for his guests.

  “Just a tiny mouthful for me,” Gwen said, patting her impressive baby bump. “You’ve got the garden looking wonderful, Ginny,” she added, as they wandered through the open French doors and out onto the wide paved terrace. “The copper beech and those silver astelias are stunning together.”

  Ginny settled into one of the shadier chairs. “Thanks to old Herbie. He’s officially retired from the heavy farm work, but he won’t desert his garden. I’m happy to have his help for as long as he’s willing and able.”

  “Send him over to Sevenoaks if he wants a real challenge,” Peter rumbled.

  Ellie watched Tony from under her lashes. She contrasted his trim jeans-clad butt with Peter’s bulkier body. Both were tall, but Peter was a solid teddy bear of a man. They were obviously good friends, now standing side by side keeping watchful eyes on their respective children as the youngsters gave the big trampoline an enthusiastic workout.

  “Can we swim?” one of the McGovern boys yelled.

  “Maybe after dinner,” Gwen called back.

  Ellie had admired the generous swimming pool the previous morning. After so many hours of sunshine, it would be like submerging in liquid silk.

  She knew Cal would have adored digging for old shells and bones and bossing his little half-sisters about that afternoon. Would have loved the company of the McGovern boys this evening. And instead, he’d be sitting in his grandmother’s tiny flat, trying to keep the TV volume low while she attended to church correspondence or fundraising plans for some good community cause. So unfair.

  She’d ached to provide him with a proper home. He’d chosen fresh blue paint for his bedroom walls, and a bright frieze of Formula One cars and motor bikes. Their house would be ready in just a few weeks. All the years of hard work and scrimping were coming to fruition, but the gloss had now been rubbed off her longed-for new life because she knew she’d never be able to provide him with everything his father could.

  “Feel like joining them?” Tony asked a few seconds later. He dropped a tender kiss on her bare shoulder.

  “I’ve had enough water for one day.”

  “A midnight swim later, perhaps?”

  Later! A shiver of desire shot right through her. She easily imagined the two of them, nude, comfortable with each other’s bodies again, embracing in the huge pool. A slender new moon had just risen over the still-bright horizon. It would be high above by midnight, washing them with its silvery radiance as they refreshed themselves after an eager reunion.

  She knew there’d be no holding back, no
tender lead-up. They were adults with fierce appetites now, hungry to enjoy each other again.

  Tony briefly rested his hands on her hips, then moved away to attend to the barbecue. His palm prints burned as hot as the sizzling grill plate.

  She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She was so nearly home; she mustn’t lose her resolve at the final fence.

  I should resist him, I should resist him, she thought. But she feared she was already lost.

  “You enjoy barbecued food?” Ginny asked from her nearby chair. Ellie sensed her tone was cooler than usual. Had she seen Tony’s possessive caress? Her beloved daughter was barely dead, and Ellie couldn’t blame her if she’d misinterpreted. Did she now presume the teacher was a gold-digger? Grabbing the chance to try and snare a wealthy husband while employed at the farm?

  She drew a resolute breath. She needed to put paid to such speculation. “I was thinking a minute ago how much Cal would have loved the river today, and the barbecue tonight. I can’t wait to get him properly settled in the new house so he can have his friends to stay over.”

  The ploy worked. A smile softened Ginny’s tight expression. “I’ll bet he’s looking forward to it. When will he be coming to visit you?”

  “Ah—I’ll have to see,” Ellie flannelled, hoping a giveaway blush had not risen up her neck. “I thought I might go back to town next weekend and see him. There’s some final planning work to be done on the house. And Christmas shopping, too. So maybe... sometime after then?”

  “We’re looking forward to meeting him,” Ginny said.

  Ellie nodded, thinking how very hard she’d be working to prevent that from happening.

  ~♥~

  The sun dipped behind the trees. An old Rod Stewart song floated out through the French doors and over the terrace where everyone rested, replete. Coffee perfumed the air. The McGovern boys—Steven and John, Ellie now knew—were somewhere off to the left in the big garden, bouncing on the trampoline again. The rhythmic squeak of the springs was just audible over ‘Maggie May’.

  The evening was still. No breeze ruffled the leaves on the huge old trees or rippled the spot-lit turquoise pool. Antonia had curled up in Tony’s lap. Carolyn was cuddled beside Ginny.

  A metallic thump and a howl of agony disturbed the peace, followed by eerie silence. Peter surged to his feet and scanned the lawn. Heavily pregnant Gwen lumbered up and stood clutching the arm of her chair. Then John McGovern rushed toward them yelling “Dad! Dad! Steve’s fallen off the tramp and hurt himself!”

  Steven’s anguished screaming grew louder and more hysterical as the adults checked out his injuries.

  “Blanket, Ginny,” Tony snapped. “And towels for this bloody gash.”

  Ellie clutched her throat as she drew nearer, feeling like an intruder but wanting so much to help if she could. How would she cope if it was Cal lying there, blood pouring from a wound in his head, one leg twisted, and in terrible pain?

  Peter stroked his distraught son’s hair. His hand came away glistening red.

  “Is there a local doctor?” Ellie asked.

  “Miles away,” Tony said. “And this needs more than bandages. We’ll get him to hospital in the chopper. Thank God I didn’t drink much tonight.” He grimaced at the sky. “Hopefully the light will hold long enough.”

  Ellie gazed around the ring of concerned faces. By now, Gwen knelt, eyes wet with tears as she cradled Steven’s cheek.

  “Pete—you bring Gwen in the car,” Tony said in a softer voice.

  “I’m coming with you, man!”

  “There’s not room for someone your size as well as Steven. And I don’t want Gwen going into labour up there. Right now she needs you to look after her. Ellie’s the smallest adult—and used to children. She’ll hold him. Sorry mate.”

  Peter swore, and shrugged his acceptance.

  “Ring the hospital. Tell them I’m heading for the heli-pad. E.T.A. half an hour at the earliest?”

  Gwen gave an anguished sob.

  Tony patted her shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Gwen. We’ll look after him.” And with a few more quiet words to Ginny, he raced off.

  “So is Tony—Robbie—a pilot?” Ellie asked as she and Ginny raided the linen cupboard.

  “He’s flown for ages. Got the bug in Australia ten years ago when he saw how the farmers made use of small planes over their vast distances. And the Flying Doctor Service of course.”

  Eleven years ago, Ellie silently corrected. On the overland trip with Darren. Right after Cal was conceived. “And it’s his own helicopter?”

  Ginny pulled out several thick towels and handed them over. “More and more farmers have planes now. And even those who don’t will have airstrips for the topdressing crews.” She directed a piercing glance in Ellie’s direction. “Wharemoana’s a different world, dear. A world in itself, really. Robbie bought Julia whatever she wanted—except a cure for cancer—and heaven knows he tried that too.” Her lips trembled for a moment. Then she hurried outside, carrying a striped blanket. Ellie followed with the towels.

  The distinctive whine of the helicopter’s engine started up, setting the dogs barking.

  Minutes later, Tony cinched Ellie’s harness and adjusted headphones over her ears, insisting that she’d need them.

  An ashen faced Peter lowered his swaddled-up son into her arms, trying to support the injured leg and not cause too much further pain. “See you soon, Stevie-boy,” he whispered before latching the door. Seconds later they rose into the twilight sky.

  Ellie watched the homestead and its vivid swimming pool swing out of sight. Tony had been right about the noise. She tucked the towelling closer to Steven’s ears, anxious not to hurt his head further.

  Surf pounded the shore, the crashing white waves visible against the darker water, but the view became inkier as they curved away from the coast and headed north. Occasional pinpricks of light floated by below, testament to the sparse farming communities.

  Steven gave an occasional piteous moan, and his skin grew ever waxier as the long minutes ticked past. Ellie only half listened to the noise through the headphones, much more worried about the little boy’s condition than flying instructions, but she heard concern in Tony’s voice, and gathered he had no night-flying instruments. His handsome face became grimmer as the sun sank further below the horizon. All his energies were concentrated on the machine, and he scarcely acknowledged her presence beside him.

  In the noisy shuddering cockpit it was easy to imagine all sorts of disasters—running out of fuel, hitting power lines and crashing in a sickening burning heap, poor Steven dying before they reached the hospital, losing their way in the dusk without those instruments... Even when she squeezed her eyes shut, the scenes repeated on the movie screen of her closed eyelids.

  She gave silent thanks each time she found the faint pulse still fluttering in Steven’s neck, because blood now soaked a large area of the towelling around his head. How could she have coped if this was Cal whimpering in her arms? It would be unbearable.

  Gwen and Peter must be in extreme anguish as they hurtled along the country roads many miles behind, praying for their son’s safety.

  ~♥~

  When the brighter lights of civilisation swam into view, Ellie sensed Tony relax a little. He sent her a ‘thumbs-up’ and a shadow of a smile. She peered around, soon recognising the long, straight main road that he’d been searching for. The big hospital buildings became visible among the lower, darker houses, and then she glimpsed the illuminated heli-pad. He brought them down with the gentlest of bumps.

  The waiting medical team whisked their patient away. She and Tony trailed after them along brightly lit frightening corridors until they were directed to a waiting room.

  “Not quite the evening I had planned,” he said, dropping into the chair next to hers and pulling out his phone. Ellie smiled sadly. Would Steven’s bad fortune be enough to deflect Tony’s attention from her? And could she bear it if it was?

  “Pete? Y
up—we’re here. All well so far. Can’t tell you more than that yet. Come straight to Emergency—we’ll wait.” He listened a moment longer. “We’ll wait,” he repeated. “I’ll let you know the moment we hear anything.” He snapped the phone shut.

  He turned to her. “The old gardener left a wheelbarrow full of tools parked behind the trampoline. It’ll kill him to know the poor kid hit that before he landed on the grass.” He enclosed her hand in his. Someone was shaking. She couldn’t be sure if it was her or Tony—or both of them.

  “Something to drink?” he asked, leaning back and closing his eyes for a few seconds.

  “I’ll get it,” she offered.

  He shook his head and rose to his feet. “Nope—I’ve still got the jitters. Need to keep moving for a while yet.” He returned a short time later with two disposable cups full of indifferent coffee, and a couple of battered magazines.

  “High living,” he said, staring into the murky mixture. “We’ll make up for it later. I asked Ginny to book us into Honeymeade Lodge for the night. I’m not risking a return flight.”

  Honeymeade Lodge? Had he stayed there with Julia? Presumably it was an up-market hotel? Ellie’s brain raced. They had no luggage—not even a toothbrush between them. Whatever would Ginny think now? She shook her head in confusion. “I suppose you’ll have to vacate the heli-pad here. They might have another emergency.”

  He took another sip of the bad coffee. “I’ll break some more rules and head direct for the lodge. It’s very close. Custom-designed as a conference centre. We had a forestry seminar there a fortnight ago.”

  “Not a hotel then?”

  “Not in any normal sense of the word. It’s quiet, discreet, luxurious. We’ll get there in less than five minutes.” He reached for her hand again. “I can ravish you in total privacy.”

  Was there the slightest hint of a question in his husky voice? Ellie turned to him, and for long seconds their eyes locked. His gaze held no laughter now—his expression intense, deliberate, possessive.

  “Like you did in Sydney?” she asked.

  “Our first night together? God, that was something.”