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

by Rosalind James

She flushed. “No. At least, you’ve seen the extent of it. I was still married until last week, remember? OK, separated, I know. But it’s still married, isn’t it? At least it was to me. I wasn’t feeling very desirable anyway, for a long time. Having your husband not want you can do that.”

  “OK. Going to ask again. Not at all?”

  “I think he told himself he was bisexual, like you said. He deceived himself as much as he deceived me, in the beginning. Almost,” she corrected. “He knew he was attracted to men, obviously. And he didn’t share that tidbit. I think he persuaded himself that he could be interested in me. But, as it turned out, not so much.”

  “Are you telling me you never had sex with him?” he asked bluntly. “You were married for, what? Five years?”

  “Three and a half, not counting these last two years. And no. Even I would have figured that one out. But it was never very much. In any sense. Less and less as time went on. I just wish I’d known why. It would have saved me a lot of pain.”

  The tears came to the surface again. “They invited me to their wedding,” she burst out. “And I wish I could go. I really do. Whatever else he was, Jeremy was a good friend, at a time when I needed one. He got me out of Las Vegas and over here, which was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But when they told me that today …” She stopped, swallowed. “I’m still mad. I can’t help it. Because I wasted all those years. I wanted kids. That’s what I’ve wanted most in my life. The one thing. It doesn’t seem like too much to want, does it? And now I’m thirty. If he’d had the guts to tell me, I could have got out, tried again. But now . . .” She shrugged helplessly, the tears starting to spill over now. “Shoot.” She got up, grabbed a paper towel and wiped them away. “I need to go check the kids.”

  She returned a few minutes later, shutting the door quietly. “Fell asleep watching,” she told him with a determined calm. “They were up late last night, and they love being with you so much, today was a lot of excitement.”

  She picked up her glass of wine. “And now I’m going to go to my room to read my book,” she told him. “I’ll let you relax. Quit telling you my sad story.”

  “Jenna.” Finn reached for her hand, pulled her down to sit beside him. “Don’t. I’m glad you told me. And I have something to say too.” He reached for the wine bottle and topped up both glasses. “I told you any man would be lucky. I meant that. Matter of fact, I’ve been wishing I’d be that lucky.”

  “You?” she faltered.

  “Yeh. Me. Didn’t you know?”

  “Sort of. Something,” she admitted. “But I’m not even close to your type, I know. You date women like Ashley.”

  “Not for a while now, if you’ve noticed.” He set down his wine glass, took hers from her hand, moved closer to her on the couch, raised a hand to her face and cupped it in his palm. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

  She leaned into him as he came closer. Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her in a way Jeremy never had. Hungrily, his hand at the back of her head now, his other arm going around her, pulling her closer to him.

  “Open your mouth for me,” he murmured. She sighed and did as he asked, and his tongue was inside her mouth, diving and exploring as she melted into him.

  He pulled back at last, leaned his forehead against hers. “You have a great mouth. I’ve been waiting so long to do that. But it’s all of you. All of this.”

  His hand was moving down her side to her waist, making her shiver. He outlined her lips with his tongue, slipped it inside her mouth again to taste her. She found herself falling back against the couch, lost in the feeling of his mouth on hers, his hands holding her so close. His mouth moved to her ear, kissing her there, taking the earlobe between his teeth to nip it, then moving down her neck to her throat.

  “Finn,” she groaned as he she felt his mouth on her neck, his teeth grazing her, his hand moving over her. “I can’t … we shouldn’t …”

  “I know,” he told her, his mouth on the sensitive spot where her neck met her collarbone, biting gently there, making her shiver and shift beneath him. “Bad idea. I know. Just a few minutes more. Just want to kiss you a little more, touch you. Then we’ll stop.”

  He went back to her mouth, his lips moving over hers until she was limp against him. His hand stroked her waist, moved up her side, closed at last on one round breast.

  “We shouldn’t,” she protested weakly. But his hand was exploring now, and she’d never felt anything like this, the heat of it. She held his shoulders, moved her hands down his arms. He felt so solid, so firm under her palms. She reached around to his back, felt the shifting planes of muscle there, tentatively moved her own tongue to touch his own. He groaned and reached under her sweater, touching her skin at last, and she jumped at the feeling of his big hand against her bare skin, shivered as he slid it up to her breast, his hand moving inside her bra to hold her there, stroke her.

  She surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her for long minutes, then pulled her mouth from his, put her hand on his arm, made a supreme effort and pushed him away.

  “Finn.” She wrenched herself up next to him. “We can’t. The kids are right there. And it’s a bad idea anyway. We can’t.”

  He let go of her with an effort of his own, leaned his head back against the couch cushions. “You’re right. Thought I could just kiss you, see what it felt like, finally. But geez. It’s like I’m fifteen again. On the couch and everything. And wanting you so much I can’t stand it.”

  “Me too,” she admitted shakily. “But not here. Not now.”

  “Right,” he groaned. “I know you’re right. But go to bed now, because I can’t sit here with you anymore. We’ll be good in the morning. If you stay out here tonight, though, I’m going to touch you again. And if we go any further, it’s going to be even harder to stop.”

  Neanderthal Brain

  “I may never want to travel by myself again,” Jenna told Finn the next morning over breakfast in Air New Zealand’s luxurious Koru Lounge in the Wellington Airport before their flight. “I’m going to miss this when I’m on my own again, down amongst the Regular People.”

  He laughed. “There are a few perks. Good thing, as much time as I spend in airports.”

  “Stop reading for a bit so you can finish your breakfast, Sophie,” Jenna admonished. “We’re going to be getting on the plane in a few minutes.”

  Sophie sighed as she reluctantly set Fantastic Mr. Fox aside and went back to her Weet-Bix, soggy now. “I’m just at the good part,” she complained.

  “You can look forward to finishing it on the plane, then,” Jenna told her firmly. “And in the queue, too. I know you. Stay close, OK? I don’t want to lose you because you’re walking and reading.”

  Harry looked up from his Zoobooks magazine, featuring sharks this time. “Will you read my magazine to me on the plane, Jenna?”

  “Sure. Stick with me, buddy.” She smiled back at him, then reached over to push up his glasses. “We need to get these specs adjusted before we go to Dunedin. They keep falling down. And you’ll want to look your handsome best for your grandparents and all the rest of your relatives.”

  “Talking of that,” Finn told her, “my mum called this morning. She and Dad want to take the kids back to Motueka after the wedding, keep them there for the first week of the school holidays. My sister said she and Kieran—her husband—can bring them back up to Auckland. Give them a chance to take a couple days off as well. They run a holiday park, won’t have much opportunity to get away once we’re into spring. You’ll still need to fly down with the kids, but you could have a week’s holiday yourself. Stay in the South Island, if you want. A bit cold down there this time of year, but if you don’t mind that, you may enjoy it. I could help you work out places to stay. Or you can go back to the house, of course.”

  “Ah …” she looked at him, then down at her coffee cup. “We should talk about it.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “OK. I’ll still pay
you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That helps a lot,” she told him gratefully. “And that’s nice of you.”

  “Not really. I should’ve built in holiday pay anyway, just didn’t think of it.”

  Jenna nodded and began to help Sophie and Harry gather their belongings as the plane was called, while Finn shouldered the bags for the short trip to the gate.

  * * *

  “I wish we didn’t have to go to school today,” Sophie complained as they climbed into the Range Rover in the Auckland Airport carpark after the brief flight.

  “You left early Friday, and you’re going in late today,” Jenna pointed out. “You’re going to be missing this Friday as well, and then it’s going to be all fun. You have to learn something before that happens.”

  “We went to the museum yesterday, though,” Sophie reminded her. “That was educational.”

  Jenna laughed. “That’s why I don’t feel bad about your missing the morning. And after dinner tonight, remember, we’re starting our new book, since we finished The Hobbit.”

  “What are you reading us next?” Harry asked with his usual enthusiasm.

  “I thought, since Sophie enjoyed Fantastic Mr. Fox so much, I’d read Matilda to you. I’m going to see if I can get it from the library this afternoon. If you both help me clean up after dinner, we can get started early.”

  “We’ll help,” Sophie promised.

  “Do I get to listen too?” Finn asked. “I like the way you read.”

  “Of course you do, if you flatter me like that, and if that’s the way you want to spend the last bit of your time off. Be warned, I might make you help clean up too.”

  “Think I could run to that,” he agreed. “As this is meant to be your own day off.”

  “You’re right. But this is actually pretty selfish. I’ve been wanting to read it again myself. It’s one of my favorites.”

  She remembered what a revelation it had been the first time she had read the book. Her own third-grade teacher had recommended the Roald Dahl story, seeing something of Matilda in Jenna’s quiet, bright eight-year-old self. TV dinners. Literally and figuratively. They’d made Jenna, like Matilda, a reader and a cook in self-defense, which was why the book had always resonated so powerfully with her. Too bad she’d never had superpowers. She’d magically flown from her chaotic upbringing into this life, though, and that was something in itself.

  * * *

  “Well,” she said as Finn pulled the car to a stop outside the villa after dropping Sophie and Harry at school.

  “Well,” he grinned back at her. “Here we are.”

  He hopped out, began pulling bags from the back of the Range Rover, and she went to help him.

  “Reckon we’ve got a choice here,” he said, making his laden way up the villa’s front steps. “You could start your time off. Or you could go upstairs with me.”

  There was nothing she wanted more right now. She wrestled with herself as she pulled out her key to open the front door, preceded him inside.

  “I’m really tempted,” she admitted at last, pulling Harry and Sophie’s bags from the pile he tossed into the middle of the entryway floor. “But I was right, last night. Bad idea. So I’m going to get the kids unpacked, start the washing, and then I’m going to go for a run. And I must regretfully decline your kind invitation.”

  He sighed. “I was afraid that was going to be the answer.”

  “Remember, I have my volunteer day tomorrow.” Time to move on. “Rescheduled. Miriam’s coming in the morning. She’ll take the kids to school, but I’ll be back to fix dinner.”

  “I’m remembering. Can I ask you for a lift to the airport Wednesday morning, though?”

  “Oh. Right. Because you’ll be driving the Toyota back again after the wedding,” she realized. “Sure. I can do that.”

  “Thanks.” He watched her heading down the hallway with a sigh of regret. She was probably right. It was probably a bad idea. But it felt like such a good one.

  * * *

  “How was the volunteer day?” he asked her the following evening. She had at least joined him as usual for her glass of wine, he’d been glad to see. No jumping her, he reminded himself sternly, or he was going to lose any chance he had, and find himself minus a nanny as well.

  “Good. We worked on maths. And I had a great moment. There’s this one little girl, Fa’alele. Samoan, obviously. Very quiet, very overwhelmed, new arrival. I’ve been working with her on her reading, before this. She’s been struggling. So today, like I said, was maths. And she sailed straight through it. She did all the addition and subtraction, so I tried her on multiplication. And she got that, too!”

  “Multiplication? How d’you do multiplication in Year One?”

  “It’s all more concrete,” she explained. “You don’t use the abstract numbers. You use picture cards, and counters. ‘Tane has three kete. If there are four kumara in each kete, how many kumara does he have?’ Rather than three times four.”

  “And she got that?” he asked, impressed.

  “Yes!” He watched her face light up as she recalled the moment. “I tried her with a bunch of them. She has a real mathematical mind. It was so exciting.”

  “I can see that. Think Harry’d have a hard time with that problem.”

  “He’s more verbal,” she said. “Bright at maths, too, but it’s not his strongest point.”

  “And how’s my mate Ian?” he asked with a smile.

  “Stiff,” she admitted. “Still a bit offended, I’m afraid. He asked about you today. Sarcastically. He blames you.”

  “Me?” he asked, touching his chest and opening his eyes wide in mock alarm. “What’d I do?”

  “Exist,” she said with a sigh. “He thinks I have … other interests. That he can’t measure up.” She smiled. “Probably true.”

  “Could be that trip to Dunedin’s going to be a good thing after all, then,” he said. “Four weeks off before AB training starts up again. And the kids with their grandparents for a week. Fancy a bit of company on your holiday?”

  She smiled ruefully. “Always a mistake for me to sit with you and drink wine. I keep getting myself into trouble. In a couple months, when we’re done with this … Ask me out, and I’m not going to be saying no. If you still want to.”

  “I’ll want to,” he assured her. “No worries. I want to so much right now. Can’t tell you.”

  “Time for me to go to bed, then.” She got up, scooped up his beer bottle together with her wine glass. “Before I change my mind.”

  * * *

  “Got all the info you need?” he asked her from the passenger seat the next morning. “About packing the kids up, and all?”

  “If not, I have your sister’s number. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Right. Glad you’re staying for the game, anyway. Should be quite a contest. Everything at once, eh. Final game of the Rugby Championship, and if we win it, we’ll have the trophy as well. And I get to play it in Dunedin, in front of all my rellies. Always a treat when your family’s there.”

  “And even better when you win, I’m guessing.” Jenna glanced over her shoulder as she merged onto the motorway.

  “Too right. We’re ready to get stuck in, though. We’ve had some pretty good intensity this week. Everyone knows they need to step up another level with Drew out. Course, we’ll have to see how we go on the night.”

  “I’m confident,” she told him. “If you have anything to do with it.”

  They drove in silence for a few miles. “It’s really not right,” she mused at last.

  “What isn’t?”

  “Violence shouldn’t be attractive. Right? It must be my Neanderthal brain or something. Why am I looking forward to watching you so much?”

  “Well, that’s good news. Another reason to win, eh.”

  “Sadly,” she told him with a sigh, “it doesn’t even seem to matter. It’s just the effort, and the sweat. And the hits,” she admitted. “I’m not proud
of it, but there you are.”

  His grin grew as he watched her steer the car into the Departures lane, pull up to let him out.

  “Have a good game,” she said. “Play hard. And I guess maybe I’ll see you Saturday before I leave. Or after my holiday, if not.”

  He unfastened his seatbelt, leaned across the center console, and put a hand behind her head. “Saturday morning,” he promised. He pulled her more closely to him and closed his mouth over hers, felt himself falling into the sweetness of her mouth, the taste of her.

  He broke away at last, smiled into her eyes. “I’ll do my best to appeal to your Neanderthal brain.”

  “You do that.” She smiled mistily back at him. “I’ll be watching.”

  He got out of the car reluctantly, grabbed his duffel from the back seat. He slammed the door shut, then leaned in through the open passenger window for a final word.

  “We’re not going to be waiting till December,” he informed her. “Fair warning.”

  Bringing the Goods

  “Auntie Sarah!” Sophie called out as they came through the gate into the unassuming Dunedin Airport on Friday afternoon. She ran to the tall, rangy woman and gave her an enthusiastic hug. Harry wasn’t far behind to add his own greeting. “Where’s Uncle Kieran?”

  “Back at home,” Sarah told her, laughing as she pulled both children close. “We didn’t have enough people to work, in the end, and one of us had to stay.”

  She straightened up as Jenna approached, held out a hand. “You must be Jenna. Thanks for bringing these two down to see us.”

  Jenna wasn’t used to feeling short, but Sarah topped her by a good three inches. It was easy to see that Finn’s height was a family trait. “No worries,” she assured the other woman. “I was glad to do it. And I get to stay over tonight, go to the game as well. I’m looking forward to that. I want to see the results of all that extra time Finn’s been putting in this week.”

  “Heard about that. That Drew’s ankle’s still crook,” Sarah said. “I’m sorry to hear it for his sake, and the team’s. But I’ll admit that, as a sister, it gives me a good thrill—and a fair dose of the collywobbles for his sake—when Finn’s the skipper. And being able to see it live tonight will be pretty special.”