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

by Rosalind James

  “Two to you,” he said once she was calm again. “You’re still such fun to play with.” Again he brought her to clenching breathless orgasm before surrendering to his own pumping release.

  And as he relaxed, he remembered she’d made it plain this was no more than a temporary diversion for her. He lay sprawled across her, heart thundering, wracking his brain for ways to make her stay.

  Chapter Twelve—Party and After

  Ellie stepped into the green silk dress and drew the zipper up with care. The woman in the mirror looked back with approval.

  She brushed a glimmer of colour onto her cheeks and eyelids, added mascara and lashings of lip gloss. The woman in the mirror blew out a big breath of apprehension.

  “Ellie!” the twins squealed as she descended the grand staircase. Plainly they’d been waiting for her. They tugged at a hand each and led her into the sitting room.

  “Aren’t you a pretty threesome,” Ginny said, glancing up from her magazine.

  Ellie looked down at the twins. Carolyn in sparkly pink with violet flounces, Antonia in the opposite. “You’re real princesses in these fairytale dresses, aren’t you?”

  “Same goes for you,” Ginny said. “All the local men will be lining up for a dance.”

  A warm hand descended on Ellie’s bare shoulder. “They can wait their turn.”

  She drew a swift breath.

  “Robbie—you’re looking very handsome,” Ginny continued without missing a beat.

  Ellie turned to inspect him. “Where’s the sweaty farmer gone?” she asked, lips quirking. He’d left his navy shirt unbuttoned enough to show a hint of tanned chest. She wanted to lick him, right there.

  “Sweaty farmer had a wash.” His thumb slid up under her hair and caressed her nape, unseen by the girls or Ginny.

  “Dirty, was he?”

  “Filthy.” He grinned, and removed his hand. “I’m hoping you’ll be able to fit between the girls’ booster seats. Otherwise we’re going to have to reconfigure things in the car. Come on, Mopsy and Flopsy,” he added, reaching down for his daughters.

  ~♥~

  Vehicles coated with varying degrees of dust were drawn up around the country hall. An arch of pine branches and Christmas baubles ringed the open doorway, incongruously topped by an oriental wind-chime tinkling in the light breeze. Outside, groups of men stood, one hand in pocket, the other clutching a beer. Inside, hundreds of fairy lights had been strung across the beams, and half a dozen women bustled around a long supper table. The twins hopped and skipped, eyes wide, drinking in the magic. Ginny joined the supper team.

  Ellie had expected a country hoedown atmosphere, but was amazed to find a crisp white tablecloth covering the trestle table that served as the bar. There was as much wine as beer. And a live band occupied the far corner of the hall.

  “I’m surprised,” she admitted to Tony. “Quite civilised.”

  His hand slid around her waist. “Yeah, we may be out in the wops, but there’s a lot of money in the area and we know how to behave.” He grinned at her outraged expression. “Some lovely old houses on the bigger estates. Speaking of which...” He turned, and she followed his alert gaze. A white-bearded giant stood in the doorway, glowering up at the wind-chimes before casting a disparaging glance around at the occupants of the hall.

  “Alfred Hamlin,” Tony murmured. “Thinks he owns the district, but I suspect his star is waning. Glenleighton’s not what it was.”

  A young denim-clad woman appeared behind him, eyes cast down.

  “And his granddaughter,” Tony added. “Named after him, poor girl.”

  Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “Alfred?”

  “Alfreida,” he muttered. “Almost as bad.” He guided Ellie closer to the door. “Evening Alfred.”

  Alfred surveyed them both with rheumy pale blue eyes and apparently found them wanting. “Robinson,” he grated.

  “Ellie McKenna,” Tony said by way of introduction.

  The white beard dipped in a greeting of sorts, and its owner turned away and stumped across the hall toward the bar.

  “What a horrible man,” Ellie whispered, catching Tony’s irritated expression. “Is he always like that?”

  “Pretty much.”

  The moment was broken with squeals of “Alfie!” as the twins rushed over to lay claim to the granddaughter. She dropped to her knees and held out her arms to them, hugging them close and then admiring their frilly dresses. Ellie saw old Alfred turn and survey the group.

  Tony grimaced, and leaned close to her ear. “And now he’s sizing me up as a suitable husband for her.”

  Her breath caught. “Are you interested?” she managed.

  “Never in a million years. Nice enough girl, and good with horses, but not an ounce of spirit. She’s been under his thumb her whole life.”

  Ellie’s pulse returned to its rightful speed, and she inspected Alfie with new eyes. She wore a short denim skirt and blue polo shirt, and her brown hair was dragged back into a long wavy ponytail. Her nails were trimmed close, unvarnished, and her face looked devoid of makeup. She appeared far too young for Tony. “How old is she?” Ellie asked.

  He shrugged. “Twenty-something.”

  “Twenty-not-much.”

  “Not interested, so it doesn’t matter.” He slid his arm around Ellie’s waist again, and gazed down at her with warm eyes. “More interested in you.”

  I wish you weren’t, she thought, looking away after a few seconds. I wish I hadn’t answered that ad. Hadn’t got tangled up with you again. And most of all wish I didn’t have to give you up after the Christmas holiday.

  She sighed, and glanced sideways at Alfie. “She’s almost pretty now her grandfather’s gone. She doesn’t look so scared. I wonder why she didn’t dress up more for the party?”

  “Alfreida!” the grandfather barked from across the hall. Alfie flinched, and rose. She had long, slim legs, and her knees now sported a comical dusting of talcum powder— someone must have spread it over the old wooden floor to make dancing easier.

  “I don’t think she has much female company at Glenleighton,” Tony said. “You should talk to her. She might enjoy it. She’s one of the farm hands, and works her butt off for that old bastard. Whoever marries her will get one hell of a farm.”

  “And you’re still not tempted?”

  He squeezed her waist and grinned. “I’ve already got one hell of a farm.”

  Ginny bustled back just as the band launched into ‘Strangers in the Night’. “Lemonade, girls? Or Coca-Cola?” she asked, leading the twins away.

  Tony drew Ellie into his arms for a dance that stirred up all her memories of the nightclubs in Sydney eleven long years ago. They circled the floor, the only dancers for the first minute or so. And once they’d turned away from prying eyes, she pressed a lingering kiss onto the slice of warm exposed chest she’d spent the last half hour fantasising about.

  ~♥~

  She woke to the early Sunday sunshine spilling in through Tony’s French doors. The party had been wonderful—people from all around the district had dressed to the nines, eaten to excess, danced themselves silly, and in some cases drunk themselves into a stupor.

  The silk frock from Paris had made her feel beautiful. She’d drifted into Tony’s arms time and again, and melted against him as they swirled around the dance floor together. When Peter or any of the other local men claimed her as their partner she’d sought glimpses of Tony across the country hall, and when she saw him dancing with other women, shafts of jealousy speared right through her.

  But it’s me who’s going home with him she’d reminded herself, trying to smooth the edge off her unreasonable possessiveness.

  When Tony had undressed her, his indrawn breath at finding nothing beneath the green silk except his tiny panties had been well worth the wait.

  She lay half dreaming for several minutes, listening to his slow breathing, watching the sunshine and leaves making patterns on the wall. If only it could be like thi
s every day—to wake in the arms of this handsome, challenging man... to be fiercely wanted and lovingly seduced.

  Lovingly? Dream on, she chided herself. There’d been no talk of love on either side, and that was the way she needed to keep things. Needed—yes. Wanted? No.

  She knew she’d give almost anything to stay with him. Anything except her son.

  ~♥~

  Tony woke to find himself curled around Ellie with his face buried in her beautiful hair. He kissed her shoulders, caressed her back, and nuzzled her neck. He needed no words. The intimate language of lips and fingertips conveyed everything he wanted to say.

  She’d made it clear she had no interest in an enduring relationship. But he’d show her how good it could be... tempt her to change her mind about seeing him merely as ‘fun’.

  She sighed and he smiled. That sigh had surely been an invitation?

  “Yes?” he whispered, reaching sideways to the bedside cabinet. He ripped the condom packet open, readied himself for her, and parted her thighs.

  She snuggled back against him as he thrust and retreated. Soon he had her way past caring if anyone else in the house heard her husky moans and eventual small sharp screams. He moved faster then, driving himself hard and deep until he too was incoherent, gasping her name as he came, and burying his face in her fragrant hair.

  Slowly he released his grip around her and relaxed as the peace of possession washed over him. He cradled Ellie’s breast in his hand, and felt her heart hammering through her warm flesh. “Good?” he asked.

  ~♥~

  Way better than good, she thought.

  “Not bad,” she whispered, twisting to glance over her shoulder at him. Trying to be flippant and put some distance between them.

  “Must try harder? That’s what the teachers used to write beside maths in my school reports.”

  She chuckled, and nestled back against him as he wrapped his arms around her. “I heard some gossip from Alfie last night,” she said a minute later. “She’s being a bridesmaid at your old friend Matthew’s second wedding next month.”

  Behind her, Tony tensed. “Matt McLeod? Are you sure?”

  “You should check with her, but I reckon. It’s a distinctive name, and the wedding’s in Queenstown.”

  He levered himself up onto one elbow and pinned her with his dark eyes. “How the hell does Alfie fit into the picture?”

  Ellie shrugged. “He’s marrying one of her cousins. Someone called Kate. She was teasing Caro and Ants about being flower girls to keep her company.”

  Tony’s eyebrows rose and he shook his head. “Jesus. So he got his courage up again? She must be some girl.”

  “From Auckland, but she’s living down there with him now.”

  He settled against her again and drew a deep breath. “Hopefully not a gold-digger like his first.”

  Ellie nudged her elbow into his ribs. “We’re not all gold-diggers. I’m not after your gold in the least.”

  He laughed, and tweaked her nipple. “More’s the pity. You need spoiling.”

  “But not by you. I’m doing fine on my own, thanks.” She bit her lip, hoping he’d believe her, knowing the state of her clothes and her car told a different story. “You should contact him. He might need another groomsman, and the girls would love to be flower girls.”

  “God no—I might blight his second attempt as well.” His hand strayed up to her shoulder, and down to her breast again. “The twins would love it of course,” he added, “but Matt and his Kate will have it all arranged by now.”

  “You could always ask?”

  They drowsed together. No other noises disturbed the big house. Even Ginny, early riser that she was, seemed to be having a Sunday sleep-in.

  “Your maths obviously didn’t hold you back,” Ellie said a little later. “Wharemoana must be an accounting nightmare.”

  “Millions of numbers. But as Dad said, when you translate them into stock feed, and meat and wool production, and metres of timber, and money, it gets intensely exciting.”

  More minutes ticked by. The leafy shadows crept higher up the wall.

  “Where do your parents live now?”

  “South of France. They bought a house in Provence a few years back. Just for holidays at first. But Mum loves it, so they’re more-or-less based there now they’ve retired. Back for holidays, of course. You’ll meet them soon.”

  “I’ll be going home for Christmas,” Ellie said. And because she was desperate to put some space between Tony and herself, she added “How long will it take me to get back to town? I lost track of the time when I drove here last Sunday because I took the wrong road for a while.”

  He nipped her ear. “A couple of hours in that old banger you call a car. Thinking of deserting me?”

  “Not for long. But I’d love to see my mum for a while. If I went now I could start back again early tomorrow morning—be here by nine? Do I get Sundays off?”

  “You will be back?”

  She heard suspicion in his tone. “Absolutely. But I have some house stuff to attend to. Odds and ends of Christmas shopping.” She hoped Ginny and the twins wouldn’t mention her son while she was gone.

  He tightened his grip on her. “Can’t prevent you from doing that, I suppose, but I’ll be pleased to see you back again. Nine o’clock tomorrow... can I last that long?”

  “You’ll manage without.”

  “I got pretty good at managing without.”

  Her heart constricted, and she dared to ask, “With Julia being so ill?”

  “With her being so discontented, and then ill, yeah.” He drew away, and twitched the sheet off her. “Go on then—before I change my mind.”

  “Yes, Boss.” She grabbed her dress and panties, and headed for the gallery. Surely no-one would spot her racing nude the short distance to her room?

  ~♥~

  “Mum!” Cal’s eyes glowed as he pulled the door open.

  Ellie gathered him into a huge bear hug. “I’m missing you so much!” she exclaimed. “How are you and Grandma getting along together?”

  “Ellie? You should have rung,” he mother said, bustling out of the tiny kitchen and untying her apron.

  “Surprise visit,” Ellie grinned. “Couldn’t stay away any longer from this lovely boy.” She ruffled his hair, and thought of Tony’s close crop. “Do you think you could manage one night on the sofa, Cal? Then I can have the other bed in Grandma’s room and not go back until early tomorrow.”

  “Cool, Mum.” He was so nonchalant. Untroubled by sudden arrangements like this. She’d dragged him through several changes of rental accommodation over the years, then the fire had burned many of his belongings, and now he was stuck in his grandmother’s small flat for weeks on end. Her son deserved so much more. But at least better times were finally in sight.

  Ellie watched him, fascinated, throughout the day. All she saw now was Tony—nothing of her. They visited the almost finished house after church, and found it more habitable than last time. Cal skipped through the interior, paced around his future bedroom, and showed his grandmother the corner of the living room where the TV and longed-for PlayStation would be installed. Ellie sighed. There’d be no PlayStation for ages unless a miracle turned up.

  Later, they watched a man flying a swooping blue kite while they ate ice-cream in the local park, and then encouraged Cal as he practiced football with several friends.

  When it came time to leave next morning, Ellie could hardly bear it. She crept out of bed at six o’clock, pressed a warm kiss onto sleepy Cal’s brow, stuffed her bag behind the front seat of her car, and drove off with tears trickling down her face.

  This time, as she approached Wharemoana, she appreciated Tony’s inheritance with new eyes. To be responsible for so much! His land stretched as far as she could see—the whole distance between the thrashing ocean and the far hills.

  She parked the car in her designated garage and took her overnight bag inside. Tony appeared out of nowhere, claimed her mou
th in a deep kiss and released her, smiling, when he heard the girls tumbling down the stairs.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  Okay going home, or okay coming back? she wondered. “The road was a lot better today. Less dust.”

  “It rained a bit last night.”

  “Good for the land?”

  “Yep—we needed it.”

  Why on earth was she holding this polite conversation when all she wanted was to be wrapped in his arms, dragged to his bed, and possessed by his fantastic body?

  She gave him a wry smile. “And you survived?” she asked.

  “Just about. Missed you. I’ll take the bag.”

  The twins grabbed her hands and escorted her up the curving staircase, chattering about their day visiting friends on a neighbouring farm, and Alfie’s trip to the wedding in Queenstown, and names for the foal her mare would soon drop.

  Ellie followed Tony’s long legs and trim backside. Last time she’d seen him wearing those old blue jeans, his chest had been bare and he’d sat in front of her, holding her legs captive between his thighs. Only Cal’s giveaway photo beside her bed had stopped her from allowing him to take things further.

  “The Blue Room?” he enquired from the top gallery.

  “Of course,” she called primly, and he sent her a slashing smile over the banister rail.

  She hurried the girls to the schoolroom. Later that afternoon, she unpacked, gathered some laundry, and took it downstairs. Ginny looked up from icing cupcakes, and before Ellie even had to ask, said, “Put it in with ours if you like. Just sort the light from the dark, can you please?”

  Ellie dropped her black top, a grey polo shirt, the olive green T-shirt, and a patterned blouse into the first bin, and tossed her yellow and white T-shirt and most of her underwear into the other.

  She came back to admire the squiggly frosting, and offered to help arrange chocolate chips and flower shapes on top of the cakes.

  Ginny pushed the little jars across to her. “All well back in town?”

  “Mmmm. The house is almost complete. And I bought some pretty mugs for my mother for Christmas.”

  “And your son? He’ll be finishing school for the year soon, won’t he? Perhaps you can bring him back here with you next time?”