A Christmas Night to Remember

by Helen Brooks

  They had eaten the moist, wonderfully tangy cake after dinner with their coffee, sitting on the villa’s balcony in the richly perfumed air as a glorious sunset had filled the sky with rivulets of scarlet, gold and deep violet, and afterwards, content and sated, had made love for hours in their big, billowy bed. He’d told her she was exquisite, a goddess…

  Enough. The warning was loud in her head. That was then and this was now, and the girl who had lived in a bikini practically the whole holiday was gone. She had never considered herself particularly beautiful, but had always had confidence in her firm, graceful dancer’s body, able to hold her own in that regard with the jet-set who congregated around Zeke like moths to a flame. What would they say now?

  People. Melody’s green eyes darkened. Always people. When she thought about it now, she had never felt she had Zeke completely. There had always been people in the background making claims on him. Even in Madeira there were friends who came by for dinner or barbecues—beautiful people, rich, funny, intelligent, fascinating. She had told herself she had to expect that; he was nearly forty years old, for goodness’ sake, and he had built a life for himself that had to continue when she had come along. It would have been totally unreasonable to expect anything else. And she hadn’t minded then—not much, anyway. Only sometimes she’d felt on the outside looking in.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ He was staring at her. ‘What is it?’

  She came back from the past to find she must have been looking at him without seeing him. ‘Nothing,’ she said quickly. ‘My mind was wandering, that’s all.’

  ‘Wherever it had wandered it didn’t seem to be a good place from the look on your face.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘What makes me think it was something to do with us?’ he added softly, leaning back in the sofa as he surveyed her through glittering black eyes. ‘It was, wasn’t it? What was it?’

  Her senses registered the way his powerful muscles moved as sleekly as an animal’s, and she was reminded again how magnificent his body was. The first time she had seen him naked she had been in awe of his male beauty. She still was.

  ‘Melody?’ he pressed silkily, in a way she knew meant he wasn’t going to let the matter drop. ‘Tell me.’

  Suddenly she threw caution to the wind. ‘I was thinking about how in the whole of our marriage, apart from on our honeymoon, we were constantly surrounded by people wanting a piece of you,’ she said flatly. ‘Weekdays, weekends—it was always the same. Looking back, I’ve sometimes thought I was just one of many hangers-on in your world.’

  To say she had shocked him was an understatement. She watched as his fiercely intelligent mind considered what she’d said. ‘You were never, ever just anything. As my wife you were up there with me one hundred per cent. Or at least I thought you were.’ He had sat up straight as he’d spoken, every line of his body tense now. ‘Obviously I was mistaken.’

  She wasn’t going to let him lay it all on her. ‘You never asked me what I wanted, Zeke. Not really. And I admit for my part I should have spoken up, but I was overwhelmed by it all.’ By my incredible fortune in marrying you. By the impossible fact that you loved me. ‘And I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, because I did, but I never really felt—’

  ‘What? What didn’t you feel?’

  ‘That I fitted in, I guess.’ She shook her head, biting her lip. ‘Maybe you were right when you said I never thought we’d last. I was never conscious of thinking that, but once you said it I realised there was an element of truth there. And it wasn’t just because of my grandmother and her attitude to men. Not wholly. It was because I sort of slotted into your life without you having to make any changes, with me hardly making a dent in your way of going on. And if I disappeared out of it again the same would apply. Nothing would really alter. I’d barely make a ripple as I left.’

  Zeke was staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. ‘You can’t believe that,’ he said eventually, clearly stricken. ‘How many times did I tell you I loved you? That I had never loved anyone else? Did you think I was lying?’

  Melody paused before answering. She was aware she had opened a can of worms, but there was no going back now. ‘No, I know you loved me,’ she said slowly. ‘But why wouldn’t you when I was doing everything you wanted? Being what you wanted? And it wasn’t all your fault. I’m not saying that. I loved seeing how the other half lived and being part of that world. It was exhilarating and crazy and a million things besides. But—’ Another silence while she searched for words to explain the unexplainable. ‘But there’s another world too—a real world. A world devoid of rose-coloured glasses.’

  ‘Meaning what, exactly?’ His voice was grim, his body tense.

  She shrugged. ‘I suppose I mean that outside the Zeke James bubble people struggle to pay their bills each month, they work nine to five just to make ends meet, they strive all their lives and never really make it. They can’t just pick up the phone and have half a dozen people ready to jump through hoops and pave the way for whatever they want. They’ve never experienced walking into a store and being able to buy whatever they like without looking at the price tag. They have bad days, they get sick, they—they have accidents.’

  She stopped abruptly. She wasn’t putting this very well. What she wanted to say had nothing to do with wealth and fortune. Not really. It was about Zeke belonging to her and she to him. ‘I can’t explain it very well,’ she added lamely.

  ‘Are you blaming me for succeeding in life?’ Zeke asked, his voice as even as a sheet of glass. ‘Because you’ll wait one hell of a long time for me to apologise for that. I pulled myself out of the gutter inch by inch, and I saw enough to know I’d rather slit my own throat than go back to it. Try living in a succession of rooms with the one person who’s supposed to love and look after you but who forgets you’re alive most of the time. Sleeping in filthy beds, eating half-mouldy food because if you don’t you’ll starve and no one will give a damn. Having no idea what a bath is but knowing other people out there don’t smell like you and your mother and her pals do. And when you’re finally dumped into care, longing to go back to that life, bad as it was, because it’s all you’ve ever known and you’re scared out of your wits.’

  As if he couldn’t bear looking at her he stood up, turning away and taking a deep breath. For a moment his back was ramrod-straight and the muscles in his shoulders hard and tense. Every line in his body proclaimed how much she’d hurt him.

  Horrified at the wounds she’d uncovered, Melody murmured, ‘Zeke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.’

  He swung to face her and she saw the iron control was back. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ His face was relaxed, calm, but she knew he wasn’t feeling like that inside. ‘It was a long time ago. But don’t tell me I haven’t experienced life, Dee. I wasn’t brought up in what you call the Zeke James bubble. Blood, sweat and tears got me to where I am today—that and Lady Luck. But I’ll tell you one thing.’ He moved over to where she was now standing, his dark eyes fixed on hers. ‘I could give it all up tomorrow and walk away without a backward glance or an ounce of regret. You talk about my world, but let me make one thing perfectly clear. It doesn’t own me. I own it. There’s a difference. One hell of a difference.’

  Melody stared into the rugged face. She wanted to believe him but she didn’t know if she did. And, anyway, did it really make any difference one way or the other? It was all relative.

  This close, she was aware of the fresh soapy smell emanating from his body, of his still-damp hair falling into the quiff which was somewhat boyish and incongruous against the hard tough features. It strengthened his overwhelming maleness in a way that caused her heart to pound as the intimacy of the moment deepened. She felt the pull of his attraction drawing her.

  He reached out and sifted a strand of her hair through his fingers, letting it fall back into the shining curtain on her shoulders as his eyes caressed her face. ‘You look good enough to eat,’ he said huskily. ‘Far more delicious than fondan
t fancies and infinitely more satisfying.’

  Melody knew what was going to happen, and she also knew he was giving her time to move away, to break the spell which had fallen. The sitting room was lit only by a couple of lamps Zeke had switched on, and the soft mellow glow was enhanced by the swirling snow outside the window and the twinkling white lights on the little Christmas tree. It was cosy and snug, safe and warm, and the power of his sensuality wrapped round her as she gave herself up to the magic of his kiss.

  His bare arms folded round her waist, tugging her into the cradle of his hips as he purposefully deepened the onslaught on her senses. She felt her breasts respond as the towelling robe pressed against the wall of his chest, their tips hardening and swelling as the blood heated in her veins.

  His tongue probed the warmth of her inner mouth and the effect on her was electric. A little moan escaped her throat, vibrating against his mouth and causing Zeke to groan in return as her arms wound round his neck, her fingers sliding into the black thickness of his hair.

  Now his mouth was hungry, demanding and wonderfully, achingly familiar as every nerve in her body sensitised. His grip tightened around her waist, his hips grinding against hers as he moved her against him. She arched in unconscious abandonment, unaware the folds of the robe had opened as her belt had loosened. And then she felt his warm hands on the bare flesh beneath the thin wispy bra she was wearing and she froze.

  ‘No.’ Her voice was high with panic as she jerked away, pulling the robe back in place and jerking the belt tight.

  Zeke was breathing like a long-distance runner and he had to take a rasping breath before he could speak. ‘It’s all right.’ He wouldn’t let her escape him completely, drawing her back into his embrace with steel-like arms which allowed no protest. ‘We can take this as slow as you want.’

  ‘I don’t want it at all.’ Melody’s mouth was dry and she licked her lips and swallowed painfully. ‘We can’t—’

  ‘We can.’ He kissed her again—a mere brushing of her trembling mouth. ‘We’re man and wife, Dee, and you’ve just proved you want me every bit as much as I want you.’ It wasn’t arrogant or triumphant, just a simple statement of fact. ‘We are one and you can’t fight that.’

  She shook her head dazedly, a hundred and one conflicting emotions tearing her apart. If they made love, if he saw her naked, he couldn’t fail to be repulsed. And she couldn’t bear that. She wanted him to remember her as she had been—to picture her in his mind as smooth-skinned, nubile, inviting. She was doing this for him as much as her. She was. He had married her when she was perfect. Why should he have to learn to adapt to anything less? She was finding it hard, but what would it do to a man like Zeke? No, this was the only way. It had to end now. Swiftly, cleanly, unhesitatingly—like the surgeon’s scalpel. She had to remain strong. She couldn’t weaken.

  ‘No, Zeke,’ she whispered. ‘We’re not man and wife any more. Not here, in my head.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’ He still continued to hold her, but now the circle of his arms was relaxed. ‘Not for a minute, a second. So don’t waste your breath trying to convince me when all you’re really doing is lying to yourself, okay? Now, go and pamper yourself—have a long soak in the tub and cream and titivate and whatever else women do when they’re getting ready for a night on the town. I’m wining and dining you tonight, and I’ve got tickets for the theatre.’

  Melody stared at him aghast. ‘I’m not going out.’

  ‘Of course you are. We’re not going to let a bit of snow beat us. This is London, not the arctic.’

  ‘I don’t mean that.’ And he knew it. ‘I’m staying here.’

  ‘Why?’ The ebony eyes challenged her. ‘Why is that?’

  Melody fell back on one of the oldest excuses in the book—the one that came just after I’ve got a headache. ‘I’ve got nothing to wear,’ she said. It was true. Her suitcase contained the leggings and T-shirts and other comfy clothes she had worn in hospital once she was allowed her own things, but absolutely nothing suitable for the sort of evening Zeke had described. All her evening things were back at their house.

  He grinned. ‘No problem.’ Releasing her, he walked over to the Christmas tree and she saw that at some point during the afternoon a host of beautifully wrapped parcels had appeared beneath it. ‘You can have a couple of your Christmas presents early,’ he said cheerfully, extracting two parcels from the pile. ‘I bought a size below your normal measurements, so hopefully they’ll fit. Try them on and see.’

  Utterly taken aback, Melody stuttered, ‘When—? How—?’

  Zeke paused as an array of emotions—wariness, delight, embarrassment—flitted across his features. ‘I did a little shopping when you were asleep,’ he admitted. ‘I’d left your Christmas presents at home. I thought—’ He shook his head. ‘Well, you know what I thought. I didn’t expect we’d be spending Christmas in a hotel in the city.’

  ‘Zeke, I can’t accept these.’ It seemed absolutely brazen to take anything from him in the circumstances. ‘You must see that.’

  ‘Why not?’ he said easily and without heat.

  Melody wasn’t fooled. She’d seen the flash of granite in his eyes.

  ‘I just can’t,’ she murmured helplessly. ‘I haven’t got anything for you, for a start. It—it wouldn’t be right.’

  He slung the parcels on a sofa and reached for her again, refusing to let her go when she tried to pull away. One hand took hold of her face gently, lifting her chin so his midnight-dark eyes stared straight into hers. ‘You being able to walk out of that place today is all the present I’ll ever want. In those first few days I didn’t think you were going to make it. I was terrified and I couldn’t do anything. Something like that has a way of sorting out the priorities of life, believe me. So, you’re my Christmas gift this year.’

  ‘Zeke—’ She was struggling not to cry. ‘I can’t—’

  ‘I know, I know.’ He pressed a quick kiss on her mouth. ‘You don’t want to hear it, but tough—it’s the truth. Now, take your presents and go and make yourself even more beautiful, if that’s possible. Because we are going out tonight, Dee. Even if I have to dress you myself.’ He smiled, but Melody knew he wasn’t joking. ‘Which, incidentally, is the option I prefer.’

  Knowing she ought to be stronger, but still melting from the beautiful things he’d said, she continued to stand looking at him for a moment more. Maybe going out was the best idea after all. Certainly a night in together would be dangerously cosy with Zeke in this impossibly seductive mood.

  As if to confirm her thoughts Zeke kissed her again, as though he couldn’t help himself—a kiss of slow sensuality. She had wedged her arms between them, flattening her palms on his powerful chest in an effort to push away from the hot desire which had immediately gripped her. It had always been the same; he only had to touch her and she was lost. His mouth moved to one shell-like ear, nibbling it before progressing to her throat and finding her pounding pulse. His rapid-fire heartbeat under her palms revealed Zeke’s arousal as blatantly as the silk pyjama bottoms, and for a split second the old thrill and delight that she could inspire such desire in him was there, before a flood of cold reality doused the feeling as effectively as a bucket of icy water.

  He didn’t know what she looked like under the robe. He hadn’t seen the scars and puckered skin.

  Melody jerked away so violently she took him by surprise. ‘Please don’t,’ she said brokenly. ‘Please, Zeke.’ She gathered up the parcels he’d thrown on the sofa and moved to the door, turning in the doorway to say, ‘What time do I need to be ready?’ as she nerved herself to look at him.

  He hadn’t moved, and her breath caught in her throat at the sheer male beauty of his magnificent body. The velvet eyes swept over her and there was no annoyance in his face. His voice was deep and warm and very sensual when he said, ‘I’ve ordered cocktails here in the room for seven before we go.’

  She nodded stiffly, holding the tears at bay through sheer wi
llpower as it came to her that she had never loved him so much as she did right at this moment. He was everything she had ever wanted—would ever want—and she was going to let him go. She knew it. She just had to make him believe it before she went insane trying.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ONCE in her own bedroom, Melody shut the door and plumped down on the bed, the parcels in her lap. She stared down at them through the mist of tears clouding her vision. Rubbing her hand across her eyes, she sniffed. No crying. Not now. Not until this is over. She couldn’t give in. She had to be strong.

  The short pep talk helped. She had always known life after the accident, particularly the first few days and weeks, was going to be hard. For all sorts of reasons.

  She nodded to the thought. No just because of learning to cope with the world outside the hospital cocoon. She realised this confrontation with Zeke had always been on the cards from the moment she’d made up her mind their relationship was over. If she could have done she would have simply disappeared out of his life; she didn’t want to argue or discuss or rationalise, but she had always accepted she would have to.

  The fingers of her right hand moved slowly over the rings on her left, but she refused to brood on the day when she had chosen her engagement and wedding rings. Instead she opened the presents Zeke had given her. The silver shot-silk trousers were exquisite and the cream-and-silver tunic top more so; she didn’t dare contemplate what they must have cost, but the designer label shouted exclusivity.

  She wished he hadn’t done this. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she let her shoulders slump—but it didn’t help the tension gripping her nerves. She felt as though any minute now she was going to shatter into a thousand pieces, all the benefit of the afternoon sleep she’d enjoyed ruined.

  Bath, she told herself, slightly hysterically. She’d wash the last of the hospital out of her hair and skin. Strange how the faintly antiseptic smell permeated everything, not matter how many creams and perfumes you applied. But she was free of all that now—free of the endless routine and doctor’s visits and lack of privacy. So why did her heart feel even heavier, like a ton of bricks suspended in her chest? She had to pull herself together. She couldn’t let Zeke affect her like this. If she wasn’t strong now it would make things even harder in the future. This was just one night. She could get through that.