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

by Rosalind James

Tony fell silent. The boy was the absolute image of him. Why wouldn’t she tell him? What was she hiding? Well—he knew what she was hiding, but why?

  He loved his girls. Adored them. But to find he had a son as well! And at ten the boy would be old enough to talk to and get to know. He very much wanted to do that,

  but Ellie was flinging up barriers at every turn. If he confronted her head-on she might vanish and he’d have to waste time tracking her down again. Tracking them both down, he corrected. Deep in his memory he heard his grandfather saying ‘softly softly catchee monkey.’

  He squeezed her hand again and changed the subject, knowing he was getting nowhere. “You’re seeing the beach at its best today. It gets pretty wild along this coast. Tearing winds sometimes. Don’t ever go swimming on your own here. Even when it’s as calm as this. There’s a rip out there that’s a real killer. You can see it from the cliffs.”

  She gazed out over the blue water with its lazy lace-edged waves and smiled as though she didn’t believe him. It certainly looked safe enough today.

  “Still waters run deep,” he said, thinking of Ellie and her hidden mystery.

  They walked on along the firm sand. She bent and picked up occasional shells and dropped them into her bag.

  “What are you planning to do with them?” he asked.

  “They might be handy for a school project. You never can tell.”

  “Indeed, you never can,” he said with heavy irony.

  ~♥~

  Once dinner was done, Ellie excused herself and went to her room. Ginny expected Tony would follow. They’d seemed more at ease with each other this evening, but he sat on, apparently having no intention of joining her.

  “Do you want to take Ellie another coffee?” Ginny asked.

  “In a minute,” he replied, sounding distracted. “You’ve got her home address somewhere, have you? I’ll need it for her tax info.”

  Ginny rose and walked across to the beautiful old mahogany desk where she kept her household and personal paperwork. “I’ve got her mother’s address, anyway,” she said, poking about. “Her old place burnt down of course. I don’t have the new house address yet.”

  “Her mother’s will have to do then,” Tony said. “Is there a phone number? Not that we’re ever likely to need that, I suppose...”

  Ginny wrote the details on a small notepad, ripped off the page and handed it to him.

  He nodded his thanks and tucked the paper away in a pocket. “I’ll get her tax form organised while it’s on my mind. Down again in a few minutes.”

  He bounded up the stairs and Ginny heard the floorboards creak over the far end of the sitting room—nowhere near Ellie’s room. Plainly they’d not entirely resolved their problem, whatever it was.

  ~♥~

  Tony dropped into his black leather swivel-chair and slid the desk drawer open yet again. He wondered how many times today he’d inspected his son’s photo. Once again he ran a tender finger along the side of Callum’s face, enjoying the cheerful smile, the dimpled chin. He looked such a good kid. Such a boy. And Tony had hoped for a boy after the twins, but that had never happened.

  At lunchtime he’d stood, holding the sheet of paper with fingers that shook a little, regarding himself and his son side by side in the big bright mirror. His boy. No doubt about it. And for all those years he’d had no clue he existed.

  What had Ellie told Callum about his absent father? Dead? Deserted? Married to someone else? He compressed his lips, clamping his teeth together, biting down on the wasted years and the sharp yearning now flooding through him. He was raw with the loss of the boy he’d never known.

  He’d engineer a meeting, and soon. School was due to close for the Christmas holiday in two days. He had the grandmother’s address and phone number now. He’d find him, even though Ellie plainly didn’t want him to.

  Was she ashamed of her son? Her unmarried status? Surely not. So why was she keeping Callum’s existence a secret from him?

  He turned the questions around and around as he swung the chair from side to side in a soothing mindless motion and hatched his plan.

  Somewhere in the house there’d be photos of himself as a child. He stood, considered for a few moments, then prowled around the landing to check the long selection of family shots there. He found some as a toddler, some as a teenager, but nothing quite the age he’d hoped for. He set off downstairs, remembering the photos in his parents’ bedroom.

  Among the snapshots in one of the old albums he found exactly what he needed; himself very close to the boy’s age, his head tipped on almost the same angle. His hair was rather longer, but the similarity of expression was unnerving. He eased it free from the page and took it upstairs. Couldn’t resist placing it next to his son’s photo and comparing the two of them side by side before laying it on the scanner bed, enlarging it to much the same size as Ellie’s, and printing a copy.

  Excellent—stage one complete.

  Fifteen minutes later he knocked on the Blue Room’s door. “Ellie? Ginny wondered if you wanted another coffee. I’ve brought a tray up, in case.”

  She opened the door and stood blocking his access to the room, reached for the tray, and smiled politely. “Tell her thank you. I’ll bring it down again later.”

  Tony backed away. That was pretty conclusive— she definitely didn’t want him in her bedroom while she had that photo beside her bed. And she wasn’t issuing invitations for later in the evening, either. Damn—he’d hoped their embraces on the beach had got around that little problem. Duplicitous she might be, but he still desired her.

  Chapter Fifteen—Kidnapping Callum

  An anguished cry ripped from Ellie’s throat. Her hands clutched at her breasts. Her nails bit in, unheeded. She tightened her arms around her body, rocking herself for comfort where no comfort could possibly be found, and sank onto the bed.

  He knew.

  Cal’s photo still stood there, but now another boy’s likeness leaned against it. A boy so similar to Cal that no argument was possible. A boy with a hairstyle from a generation ago, but in every other way her son.

  The laughing eyes with their lush lashes... the cheeky smile... the olive skin—all Cal’s, and all Tony’s.

  The hot burn of vomit rose up her throat and she began to retch, bolting to the bathroom just in time to direct the remains of her breakfast down the toilet. Dropping to her knees she clutched the cold porcelain and heaved until she was empty—as empty as her wide scared eyes.

  What would he do? What could she say? Surely there was no way to salvage anything from such a horrendous situation?

  Tony must utterly despise her for never letting him know he had a son, even though she’d had no idea where in the world he’d been for years afterwards.

  Well, guess what Mister? I’ve managed this long without your money; I don’t need it now.

  But worse—far, far worse—would be Cal’s reaction. What had she done?

  “I had a Dad all the time, Mum, and you didn’t tell me. Even when you knew, you didn’t tell me. I hate you Mum. I want to be with my Dad.” She heard his voice so clearly he might have been in the room with her. And what could she say to refute his accusations? Nothing.

  She bowed her head, stricken, shamed, shaking, and finally rose to rinse the acrid taste from her mouth. Then she crept back to the bed, and curled up, aching and trembling, knees tight against her chest like a scared child.

  After a few minutes she reached out and separated the photos, setting them side by side to compare them. Huge tears blurred her vision, leaked down her face, and soaked into her pillow.

  She had no idea how long she lay there, desolate and inconsolable, but she stirred at the polite tap on her half open door.

  “Ellie? Are you all right, dear? Are you coming down for lunch?” Ginny’s kindly voice enquired.

  Ellie moaned—a hopeless terrified sound. Ginny hurried in and laid a concerned hand on her brow. “Oh my dear girl, whatever’s wrong? Please—whatever�
�s wrong?”

  She flapped a hopeless hand toward the two photographs. “My son is Tony’s child,” she choked. “Tony’s found out about him. He’s left me this to show me he knows...” She collapsed into wracking sobs again.

  Ginny drew a fast breath and lowered herself onto a nearby chair. Ellie continued to sob. A few minutes later the distant beat of the helicopter intruded into the strained atmosphere of the room.

  “You’ll have to be very brave, Ellie,” Ginny said, standing again. “We need to smarten you up. That’s Tony bringing your son back to the farm. He swore me to secrecy. Said he’d arranged it as a surprise for you now school’s out because you were missing Callum so much.”

  She reached for the photos and inspected them more closely. “I had no idea about the relationship of course, but they’re peas from the same pod, all right.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at Ellie with motherly compassion. “Can you do it? Can you manage to look pleased for your boy?”

  She set the photos down again, crossed to the bathroom, turned on a tap, and returned with a cold, damp washcloth. She ran it briskly over Ellie’s face and smoothed her hair back as though she was one of the twins. “Lie there a minute with this over your eyes.” She folded the cool cloth into a pad and handed it over.

  “I’ve been sick,” Ellie muttered, obediently reclining and pressing the welcoming dampness over her face.

  “Some perfume then,” Ginny said. “Have you brushed your teeth?”

  The helicopter throbbed raucously close now. Ellie listened until it settled, then levered herself up from the bed. She staggered to the bathroom, gave her teeth a rapid minty scrub, heaved a huge sigh, applied some lip gloss, and stood there blinking at Ginny. “Will I do?” she quavered.

  “Quite a transformation. Have you time for a lick of eye-shadow? Just to disguise the redness in your eyes?”

  Ellie fumbled amongst her small cosmetic collection and smoothed on some grey-blue frosted powder. “God help me,” she groaned at her reflection. “Thank you Ginny. I couldn’t have managed it without you. What the hell happens now?”

  “Let’s watch for them from the balcony—it’ll give you a little more time, and the fresh air will help.”

  “I don’t think anything much will help.” But she followed Ginny out through the French doors and leaned on the surrounding parapet until Cal and Tony came into view.

  The breeze blew down from the hills. The scent of the pine forest wafted strong and fresh. Any other day she’d have breathed it in with pleasure; today it barely registered. She’d fixed her whole panicked attention on the two figures below.

  Tony’s stride was long and purposeful. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses, and he prowled like a beast after prey. Callum was the prey—skipping ahead of him, full of eager anticipation, and never knowing the havoc his sudden appearance had caused.

  Tony said something, and Cal glanced upward and waved. “Mum! Mum! We came in the helicopter!”

  “I heard you land,” she called back with false brightness. “I’ll be right down.”

  She and Ginny turned together.

  Ginny paused by the telltale photographs and nodded. “Not much doubt, is there?”

  “No doubt at all,” Ellie replied. “Tony was the only man I ever slept with. Even if Callum had turned out short and fat and blond, he’d still be Tony’s.”

  Ginny let out an amused squawk at the reply, and the two of them descended the stairs, spluttering helplessly, although more from nerves than mirth.

  ~♥~

  She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet whatever accusations his dark gaze held. Her eyes went straight to Callum as he ran toward her under the shady portico. She hugged him close. “What a fantastic surprise for me, Cal! I’ve only just found out you were on your way. We’ll have to make your bed up, won’t we?”

  She turned her back on Tony, tucking an arm around her son, hoping to put on a good enough show to fool him. But still Tony’s menacing presence intruded.

  Fingers of unease ran up and down her spine as she led Cal into the entrance hall. Tony paced close behind, carrying a small suitcase that Ellie recognised as her mother’s. He eased ahead as the boy stood staring at the curving timber staircase with obvious awe.

  “I’ll get the bed set up for you,” he called over his shoulder. They trailed him up to the gallery, and he entered The Blue Room uninvited. Ellie raised a hand to stop him, but he silenced her with a hard glance.

  She blanched as he headed straight for the photos, then relaxed as he opened the top drawer, pushed them in, and slammed it closed. He turned to the wardrobe where the folding bed was stored. “Can you give me a hand, Cal? It’s a bit tricky.”

  “Sure, Robbie!” He was his father’s willing slave already.

  “Sheets,” said Ginny, appearing at the door a few moments later. “Pillows and blankets are on the wardrobe shelf. Let me know if you want more.” She sent Ellie a brief smile. “Lunch in five minutes everyone.”

  ~♥~

  Tony settled onto the lounger next to Ellie an hour later while Ginny kept the three children occupied in the pool. Cal wore swim-shorts he’d treated him to before they flew out to Wharemoana. A very small token, given how much he’d missed out on over the years.

  “How could you do that to me?” Ellie hissed. “How could you leave me to face something like this with no notice, no preparation?”

  Tony turned in her direction, hoping his sunglasses hid the intensity of his emotions. “I wanted to meet him. I had to meet him.”

  “You could have asked!”

  “I asked. I gave you plenty of opportunities...”

  Ellie’s breasts rose as she dragged in a furious breath. “Such as when, exactly?”

  “You said he was only nine when Ants was talking about the Tooth Fairy. If you’d said ten I’d have had a clue, and we could have discussed it reasonably from there.”

  “Reasonably? I doubt you know the meaning of the word.”

  “He’s my son, Ellie. It’s a hell of a thing to find out.”

  “It’s a hell of a thing to try and discuss reasonably—that’s for sure.”

  Her panicked voice sliced chunks off his hard-held composure. He thrust a hand back over his hair and expelled a sharp breath. “You should have told me the truth on the beach. I gave you all sorts of openings.”

  “You gave me nothing of the kind. You bombarded me with questions and grabbed me against my will.”

  “Yeah,” he drawled. “I really noticed you objecting—rubbing yourself all over me like a bitch on heat.”

  She shot him a venomous glare. “Take those bloody glasses off and look me in the eye, Tony. Like a bitch on heat?” Her voice rose to a disbelieving squeak.

  “You wanted me,” he said, lips compressed, yanking at the glasses and returning his furious gaze to her.

  “Like a hole in the head. And we’re off the subject. Dumping that photo there for me to find was the cruellest thing anyone’s ever done to me.”

  “Apart from leaving you pregnant in the first place.”

  He wondered if Ellie would hear the regret in his voice. Hoped so much she would, but she ignored his tentative apology.

  “You didn’t know that, Tony. I didn’t know for weeks. I was on the pill—it shouldn’t have happened.”

  “On the pill for a bit of holiday fun, I suppose?” he couldn’t help suggesting.

  She raised her chin and stared him down. “On the pill for irregular periods, if it’s any of your business. Not on it long enough to be safe from your super-high stud-farm fertility, more’s the pity.”

  He gave a sudden amused snort and tried to stop it from becoming a full blown laugh. “Why didn’t you let me know you were pregnant?” he said with more softness.

  “How could I? Where the hell were you? In the outback? In India? Crossing the Sahara Desert for all I knew. How could I have found you? I did make an effort later, but it wasn’t easy. And I really bet you wanted a pregnant teenage
r chasing you around the world to wreck your holiday.”

  Then he saw her eyes narrow, and knew she’d made the connection.

  “On the beach?” she exploded. “You knew then?”

  He nodded, discomforted. “I saw Cal’s photo beside your bed,” he said very quietly, casting a glance out over the pool to ensure they hadn’t attracted anyone’s attention. “And that just demolished me. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you arrived here and found it was me? That he was mine?”

  ~♥~

  Ellie chose to ignore those queries to gain some much needed time. Her fevered brain raced and swooped like a flock of panicked sparrows. “What were you doing in my room?”

  “Ginny gave me some laundry to bring up. I wasn’t snooping.”

  She shot him a suspicious glare and then fell silent for a few moments. “But why did you do it like this?” she pleaded. “Why just foist it onto me?”

  He grimaced. “I thought,” he muttered, “that you might disappear again and I’d never get to meet him. You already had me scared silly, thinking you had another man somewhere...”

  “Quite a young one, as it happens,” she said with the ghost of a grin.

  “I wasn’t to know that, was I? You didn’t want me to know. You’re so damned self-contained.”

  “I’ve had to be.” She watched as he dragged in a deep breath.

  “Well, you don’t have to be now. Reconsider. Marry me.”

  Crimson fury bloomed in her brain. “What? You can’t be serious? Did I not make myself perfectly clear earlier?

  “It’s easy now this is out in the open. Marry me. Live here. You and me and Cal and the twins. One proper family.”

  Ellie produced a snort worthy of a Clydesdale. “That’d suit you beautifully wouldn’t it? Instant mother. Instant wife. Sex on tap. All the arguments you came up with last time. What about me? What about Cal?”

  He grasped her arm, bristling with frustration. “You’d both live here of course. You’d have a great life.”

  She cast a deliberate glance down to his hand. He gentled his grip and then released it to run his fingers down to hers. She shook him away.