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

by Rosalind James

  “Geez.” He dropped his duffel, lifted his son and daughter into his arms to kiss them. “You’ve both got bigger. What have you been feeding them?” he asked Jenna, smiling into her eyes. “Magic beans, I reckon.”

  “Nah, Dad,” Harry protested. “We don’t eat beans. We eat meat. And I had to get new shoes! My feet got bigger!”

  “Did they, now.” Finn set his children down, reached for his duffel again, then took a hand in each of his own. “Must be the meat, then.”

  “Good trip?” Jenna turned around to ask as she led the way out the doors. “We’re parked close by. In case you’re worn out, especially after that exhibition you guys put on the other night.”

  “It’s a long flight,” he admitted. “No matter how well they look after us. Wish I could run home, and that’s the truth. Don’t fancy sitting again for a day or so, at least.”

  “We watched your game!” Harry exclaimed. “I watched almost all of it, Dad! I would have watched it all, but Ethan was there. And he’s little, you know. He can’t concentrate.”

  “I watched it all,” Sophie assured him. “Jenna too. She woke us up early to watch. You did great, Dad. Were you the tackle leader? They didn’t say.”

  “Nah.” He smiled down at her. “Second. Behind Drew, as usual. Made sixteen, though.”

  Jenna was quiet on the drive home, he noticed, seeming content to listen as the kids overflowed with questions and information.

  “You look good,” he said quietly as they stopped at a traffic light. “Buy some new clothes while I was gone?”

  “A few things.”

  “They suit you.” She looked beautiful, in fact. A bit thinner, maybe, but just as curvy as he remembered. The dull fatigue had lifted when he’d seen the three of them, and his heart felt light to be back again, the Range Rover traveling through the familiar streets, the tidy neighborhoods, green gardens filled with all the rioting blossom of a Southern Hemisphere December.

  “Who wants to take a walk to the top of Mt. Eden with me?” he asked as Jenna pulled the car to a stop outside the villa. “Soon as I drop this bag in my room and pop into the shower?”

  “Me! Me!” Harry and Sophie chimed in chorus.

  “Jenna?” he asked.

  “You go on,” she told him. “It’s almost seven-thirty already. I want to get dinner fixed. I know you must be hungry. I’m sure they didn’t feed you guys nearly enough on the plane.”

  “You’re right. Forty-five minutes, OK?”

  “Perfect.”

  It was after nine by the time they had eaten, and ten before the overexcited Harry and Sophie had finally settled in bed, Sophie succumbing to one final tearful outburst beforehand.

  “Geez,” Finn sighed as he came out of her room at last and sank onto the couch. “Has she been like that?”

  “All day,” Jenna said with a sigh of her own. “Both of them, actually. But especially Sophie.”

  “You must be worn thin.”

  “A bit. It’s been a long day. Not as long as yours, though. Want a beer?”

  “You know I do. Don’t get up. I’ll go.”

  He came back in a minute with bottle in hand. “The Poms think they make good beer, but to my mind, it doesn’t compare to Mac’s.”

  “It’s all in what you’re used to, I suppose,” she said.

  He looked across the couch at her, sitting as usual with her feet tucked under her. “Still not drinking, eh.”

  “Nope. New leaf continues.”

  “Wouldn’t have said you needed reforming. Except in certain areas.” He grinned across at her. “I missed you.”

  “Me too.” She smiled back at him.

  He was just scooting across to join her when Harry appeared in the doorway, glasses askew, PJs rumpled.

  “I need a drink of water,” the boy complained. “I woke up and I was thirsty.”

  Jenna got to her feet on a long breath. “OK. Let’s go.”

  She came back into the lounge five minutes later. “Guess that was our cue to say goodnight, because that might not be the last journey out of bed for them. Not going to work. The kids have a playdate tomorrow, though.”

  “A playdate, eh.” His smile grew. I’ll have to look forward to that, I reckon. And meanwhile.” He hauled himself up off the coach, where he felt like he’d taken root, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not going to bed without kissing you. No matter who needs a drink of water.”

  He felt her wrap her arms around him to draw him closer, and deepened the kiss. It felt so good. And it had been so long. “Sure?” he murmured.

  “He’s going to be popping up again in five minutes,” she sighed against him. “Or Sophie will have a bad dream. Tomorrow. Two o’clock.”

  “Two o’clock,” he said reluctantly, letting her go and watching as she went to the door. “Too long.”

  Not too Flash

  Jenna looked up from her book at the knock at the door. “Come in.”

  She set the paperback down with surprise as Finn came through the door and closed it softly behind him, his thumb flicking the lock shut. “What are you doing here? We just agreed about this.”

  He came to sit on the bed next to her. “I got to thinking about it. Only a week left till the end of our contract. We can end this tomorrow, if we want to. I don’t mean end it,” he said hastily, seeing her frown. “I mean, end the nanny thing. You can move out now. I’ll help you, if you need someplace to stay. We can go from living together to dating, out in the open.”

  He leaned over to kiss her, lingered there. “I’ve missed you so much. Couldn’t wait to be with you again, that’s the strength of it. I’m bloody tired, but I couldn’t sleep, thinking of you down here in bed without me, after I spent all these weeks alone.”

  “You had a roommate,” Jenna pointed out weakly, feeling her resolve evaporating.

  He laughed, pulled the duvet back to climb into bed with her. “Lackie’s not a bad young fella, but he isn’t quite in your class.”

  She sighed with pleasure at the feel of his hand stroking her hair back from her face, of his mouth on hers. Once would be all right. Just once, before she told him. She deserved that, didn’t she?

  Tell him now, the voice of reason said sternly. He needs to know. But her body was saying something else, drowning out that sensible voice.

  Finn wasn’t rushing tonight, despite the long separation and the need she sensed in him, a need she felt just as strongly, pulling her toward him, into him. She pulled his T-shirt over his head, wanting to feel his skin against her hands, to memorize the look and feel of him.

  She’d forgotten so much. This curve, where the muscle rose from his neck along the top of his shoulders. The swell of his bicep under her palm as he propped himself on an elbow, the silky skin of his inner arm. His mouth, moving over hers, kissing her as if he’d missed this as much as she had.

  His hand moved down to stroke a breast, and she flinched involuntarily at the touch. He felt it, pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re a little tender right now, that’s all. Can you be really careful? And can we turn out the light? I’m feeling a little shy,” she tried to joke. “It’s been a long time.”

  He frowned, but moved to comply. “I’d rather see you. Course I will, though, if that’s what you want.” He came back to her, felt for the hem of her nightgown, pulled it over her head. “Where were we?”

  “You were kissing me,” she told him in the dark. “And it was feeling really good.”

  “I was, wasn’t I. And I was touching you. Gently.” He went back to kissing her again, moved his hand carefully over her breast, keeping it soft. Then stroked down her side, over her abdomen. And froze.

  “What the hell.” His voice was strained now. He sat up, fumbled for the light again, turned it on. And stared down at her beneath him. At the fine lines of blue veins, always visible through the pale skin of her breasts, so much more prominent now. The nipples darker, breasts fuller than they had been. And that fi
rm swelling below her navel.

  “How far gone are you?” he asked. “And why didn’t you tell me about this?”

  “You can tell?” she faltered.

  “Course I can tell,” he said impatiently. “I have two kids. How far gone?”

  “Twelve weeks,” she admitted. “Ten weeks since conception. That’s what the midwife says.”

  “And?” he prompted when she fell silent. “Why didn’t you tell me, sometime in those ten weeks?” He reached for his T-shirt, pulled it back on with jerky motions.

  Jenna leaned over to pick her nightgown up from the floor where he’d dropped it, wanting to be dressed for this conversation. It wasn’t going anything like the way she had envisioned. The way she had hoped it would be.

  “Before you left,” she began, “I wasn’t sure, at first. And then I was, pretty sure. But I had a … I had a miscarriage before, when I was married. I couldn’t believe it would work, that the baby would live. And I wanted it to, so much. I thought I would wait and see first. I didn’t want to tell you, and then,” she swallowed, “then have it die again. If that was going to happen, I needed it to just be me who knew.”

  “I don’t understand that. It’s mine too. Isn’t it?” he asked sharply. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No!” She stared at him, horrified. “You know it is. You know I hadn’t been with anybody else. How can you ask that?” Her breath was coming shorter now. She felt the nausea rising, swallowed it back.

  “How, then?” he challenged. “We used protection, every time. I was bloody careful. How could that happen?”

  “Because it isn’t perfect! You aren’t a kid. You know it isn’t perfect.”

  “Weren’t you using anything else, for God’s sake?”

  She looked at him, stricken. “Of course I wasn’t. How could I have been? I’d probably had sex twenty times in my life. I hadn’t had it at all for years. Then you came along. You know what happened. You were there too. You know how it was, how fast it was. You have to remember.”

  “But after the first time,” he said with frustration. “Didn’t you think about it?”

  “Did you?” she challenged, getting angry now. “You’re the one with the experience. Anyway, it probably happened that first time. Ten weeks, Finn. Count back.”

  “Aw, shit.” He put his head in his hands. “Bloody vending machine condom. How could I have been so stupid? Twice. I can’t believe it.”

  She looked down at him, the cold seeping through her. She hadn’t expected him to be thrilled, of course. Well, she’d hoped, in some part of herself, that he would be. That he’d want this baby, would want her, as much as she wanted both of them. She was the one who’d been stupid. That was obvious now.

  He lifted his head, eyes narrowing again, hard now. “Right,” he rapped out. “You didn’t tell me before I left. I’ve been gone five weeks, Jenna. You had to know all those five weeks. Everything’s obviously going on according to plan, based on how you look. Baby’s growing, heart’s beating, all that. So why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “On the phone? How was the game, and by the way, I’m pregnant?”

  “Yeh,” he snapped. “Exactly. I had a right to know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I was scared, all right?” she burst out. “I was scared you’d react exactly the way you’re doing right now. And I wouldn’t even be able to see you, talk to you. I thought it wouldn’t matter, that I could wait till you came home. I even hoped you might be happy about it.” Her eyes were welling with tears now, and she dashed them away impatiently with one hand. “Stupid. But you’re such a good dad. I thought, I hoped, maybe you’d want it as much as I did.”

  “Right,” he shot back. “You thought I’d be rapt that I’d got the nanny up the duff.”

  She reared back as if he’d hit her, her eyes going wide with shock and pain. Her hand went to her mouth as she stumbled out of bed.

  “Don’t run away from me.” He was in front of her now, glaring at her. “We’re talking about this.”

  “Sick,” she got out from behind her hand, pushed past him and ran for the door.

  “Shit.” He watched her go, sank down on the bed again, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, head bent. Took a few deep breaths and pulled himself back under control with an effort. Shook himself like a dog and stood up to go find her.

  He waited in the hallway until he heard the toilet flush, then walked cautiously through the bathroom door to find her still huddled on her knees over the toilet, gripping the bowl.

  “Aw, geez.” He pulled a hand towel from the rack and wet it at the sink, squatted down next to her to wipe her face. She was crying in earnest now, and the guilt twisted inside him. “Hang on. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  When he came back with it, she was standing again, holding onto the sink with one hand and slowly brushing her teeth with the other. Her face still looked paper-white, and she didn’t appear any too steady on her feet.

  “Come on,” he urged as she spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth with the water he offered. “I’ll help you back to bed. Have you been crook all this time? This bad?”

  She nodded, still not looking at him.

  He exhaled. “Let’s go, then. We can talk more tomorrow, figure out what to do. You need to lie down now.”

  “No.” She lowered the toilet seat and sank down onto it. “I’m going to stay here for a minute.” She swallowed. “Still sick.”

  “Right.” He leaned back against the wall to wait.

  She pulled her hair back from her face with one trembling hand and looked up at him with weary eyes. “Please go away. Go to bed. I don’t want you here with me right now.”

  He looked down at her helplessly. “Are you sure? Can I help?”

  She shook her head tiredly. “Just go. Please.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, then,” he said again. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Bit of a shock.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Yeah. Shock to me too. Go to bed. You’ve said enough. I get it. And I need to be alone now.”

  He hesitated, then pushed himself off the wall and left the bathroom, closing the door quietly after him. He couldn’t have made more of a hash of that if he’d tried. He winced inwardly at the memory of her stricken face, the pain in her eyes. He’d apologize again tomorrow. They’d make a plan. He pushed a hand through his hair and made his way down the long hallway, up the stairs to his own room, all the weariness of the journey back in full force.

  Pregnant. Bloody hell.

  * * *

  “Daddy!” Finn woke from the doze he’d finally fallen into as Harry, always the early riser, jumped onto the bed next to him.

  “What time is it?” he asked, pulling the alarm clock towards him.

  “Morning,” Harry pointed out unnecessarily. “And Jenna isn’t up. Jenna’s always up when I get up, Dad.”

  “We’ll let Jenna sleep a bit this morning,” Finn told his son. “Where’s Sophie?”

  Harry sighed. “Reading in bed. Of course.”

  “I have an idea. We’ll get dressed and walk to the café for breakfast. A treat. How would that be?”

  “Jenna too?” Harry scrambled for the edge of the bed.

  “Nah, Jenna needs some rest. She wasn’t feeling too flash last night.” Because of him, Finn thought guiltily.

  Harry nodded. “Jenna feels crook a lot. She has a funny tummy. That’s what she says. ‘Just my funny tummy.’ One time she had to stop the car. And then she spewed on the verge. All over the grass, Dad. It was disgusting.” Harry shuddered at the memory. “Sophie and I were really scared. But then she got better.”

  Finn winced. “Well, we’ll let her give her tummy a rest today, now that I’m home. Go get your gear on. And tell your sister.”

  “OK.” Harry ran off, and Finn moved into the bathroom to get himself ready. He’d take the kids out, then put on a DVD for them and have a quiet talk with Jenna. It wasn�
�t ideal, but after the disaster last night, he couldn’t afford to wait.

  * * *

  “Jenna!” Harry and Sophie ran ahead of Finn into the house, Sophie clutching the white bakery bag. “We brought you a scone! Jenna!”

  Finn went into the kitchen, looked around with surprise. Was she still asleep, then?

  “Dad!” he heard from the other end of the house. Then both his kids were running back to find him. “She isn’t here!”

  “She probably went for a run,” he told them. “Took advantage of you monsters being out of the house for once.”

  “No, Dad,” Sophie said soberly. “Her room’s empty.”

  “What do you mean, empty?” A chill ran through him at the look on their faces, and he followed them down the hall. Paused outside the open door to Jenna’s room and looked inside.

  They were right, it was empty. Cleaned out. The bed was neatly made, but the few personal items that usually sat atop the bedside table were gone, and her cardigan was missing from its usual spot across the chair back. He moved across to the closet, pulled the door open. Nothing but hangers, looking forlorn in the empty space.

  Sophie came to join him, her eyes too old in her small face. “She went away,” she told him. “Why didn’t she say goodbye to us, Dad?”

  “No!” Harry shouted. “Jenna wouldn’t go away. She loves us. She loves us, Dad. And I love Jenna. I want Jenna.” He started to cry, and Finn looked at him helplessly, reached an arm out to pull him close.

  Sophie was there again, handing him a folded sheet of paper. “I think she left you a letter, Dad. It has your name on it. It was on the bed.”

  He took it, not trusting himself to open it in front of them, sat on the bed and pulled them down to sit beside him. “I think Jenna had to go away for a while,” he told them. “But she’ll be back. She had something to do, that was all. She waited until I was home again to take care of you, then she went.”