Once Upon a Christmas

by Sarah Morgan

  For a single, breathless moment in time she belonged to him.

  She was part of him.

  And finally he closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair.

  ‘I love you, Helen.’

  His soft words brought a gasp to her throat and tears to her eyes. She opened her mouth to say the words back to him but no sound emerged.

  It had felt so special but she couldn’t work out why.

  What was the magic ingredient? Why had it felt so different?

  ‘Oliver …’

  He lifted his head and kissed her gently, a wry smile of understanding in his blue eyes. ‘It’s all right—I know it’s all too soon for you.’

  So why was she lying underneath him feeling as though she never, ever wanted to move?

  Helen nursed a cup of coffee and stared out of the kitchen window towards the mountains, wondering how everything in her life could have changed so much in just three weeks.

  Her aching body was a delicious reminder of the night before and she ran a hand from her waist to her hips, as if aware of herself for the first time.

  I love you.

  She closed her eyes briefly, reliving the moment when he’d said those words with a thrill of excitement.

  And then she remembered David.

  David had said those words, too. Just before he’d caught a plane to Singapore with another woman.

  Words were, after all, just words. Anyone could say them. Especially when sharing the intimacies that she and Oliver had the night before.

  If David hadn’t meant those words after six years, how could she expect Oliver to after only three weeks? No one fell in love in three weeks. It wasn’t possible. Love needed time to grow.

  She was still brooding when there was a loud knock on the door.

  Assuming it would be Tom, Helen put down her coffee and walked quickly to the door, opening it with a smile on her face.

  David stood there.

  Helen’s smile faded and emotion rushed through her with the force of a tornado.

  Something must have shown on her face because he gave a slight grimace and ran a hand through his hair. ‘If you’re going to hit me, perhaps you’d better do it now and get it over with. But at least let me talk. I’ve been driving all night.’

  Noticing that he was wearing a thin suit and footwear totally unsuitable for the weather, Helen stood to one side.

  It didn’t occur to her that three weeks previously she wouldn’t have noticed such a thing.

  ‘You’d better come in before you freeze.’ Her voice was strangely flat. Five weeks ago all she’d wanted had been the opportunity to talk to David. To find out why he’d done what he had. Now she couldn’t remember what it was she’d wanted to say to him.

  He walked past her into the cottage and paused in the hallway. ‘Helen …’

  ‘Let’s go into the kitchen,’ she said quickly, glancing anxiously towards the stairs. For some reason it seemed extremely important that Oliver didn’t come downstairs yet. At some point during the night the fire had gone out and they’d moved to the bedroom.

  And Oliver was still asleep …

  David frowned slightly but shrugged and followed her through to the kitchen, his expression wary as she turned to face him.

  ‘I’m going to come straight to the point.’ He gave her that lopsided smile that she’d once found so attractive. ‘I made a mistake, Helen. A huge mistake. And I admit it. We never should have split up.’

  Helen stirred. ‘We didn’t split up,’ she said politely. ‘You left me at the altar.’

  Bright spots of colour appeared on his cheekbones and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. ‘Well, not exactly. I—’

  ‘I hadn’t actually arrived at the church,’ Helen agreed helpfully, ‘but it was a close thing.’

  David gave a sigh and ran a hand over his face. ‘Look—you have every right to be angry. But we were together for six years. Is that really something that you can throw away lightly?’

  ‘You did,’ Helen pointed out calmly, and David frowned.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? You’ve changed,’ he said quietly. ‘You never used to answer back or be confrontational.’

  ‘Well, maybe you just didn’t know me, David.’

  ‘Listen, sweetie.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Everyone makes a mistake at some point in their lives. Well, this was mine. And now I’m going to put it right. I want you back.’

  He wanted her back?

  Helen stared at him, waiting to feel a rush of relief and pleasure. Waiting for the impulse to throw her arms around him.

  Nothing happened.

  Her eyes slid over him, noting his perfectly groomed appearance. Despite the fact he claimed to have driven all night, there was no trace of stubble on his freshly shaved jaw. He looked as though he’d just stepped out of the courtroom—his tie neatly adjusted, the flash designer watch gleaming on his wrist.

  He looked rich, sophisticated and self-confident. Most women’s idea of a perfect partner. And he wanted her back.

  It seemed that shattered dreams could be glued together again after all.

  She looked at him, searching her brain and her heart for the answer.

  However much he’d hurt her, they had been together for six years.

  She’d been expecting to exchange vows with this man.

  She could still have the life she’d mapped out for herself.

  Oliver woke to find the other half of the bed empty.

  He rolled over, his body reacting instantly to the subtle scent of Helen’s perfume still clinging to her pillow.

  Where was she?

  They’d made love all night, so ravenous for each other that they hadn’t broken contact until the light had started to intrude through the curtains. They’d savoured and lingered and feasted on each other until, clinging together in blissful, satiated exhaustion, they’d finally fallen asleep.

  And for the first time in his life he’d laid himself bare emotionally. Stripped himself naked in every sense, willing to trust this precious woman with his heart.

  For the first time in his life, he’d said I love you.

  He covered his eyes with his forearm and cursed softly, grimly aware that despite the unbelievable physical intimacies they’d shared, Helen hadn’t once said those words back to him.

  But, then, Helen didn’t think that love could happen so quickly.

  Or did she still think that she was in love with David?

  Deciding that he’d given her enough space, Oliver pulled on jeans and a jumper and padded downstairs, pausing on the bottom step as he heard Helen’s voice coming from the kitchen.

  He frowned.

  He hadn’t heard the door.

  ‘I’m really glad you came, David,’ she was saying and Oliver froze.

  David? She was talking to David?

  And she was glad he’d come?

  Unprepared for the pain that seared his chest, Oliver pushed open the door of his sister’s kitchen and saw Helen wrapped in a man’s arms.

  David’s arms.

  ‘Excuse me.’ If he’d had his way he wouldn’t even have announced himself, but to make his escape he needed his jacket and his car keys and both were in the kitchen.

  He cast one long look over the man who had once been Helen’s fiancé and who was obviously destined to hold that position again. If he hadn’t heard those words himself—I’m really glad you came, David—he would have flattened the guy for the way he’d treated Helen.

  But clearly such heroics were uncalled for.

  So instead he walked calmly into the kitchen, trying not to notice that Helen was still in her dressing-gown. The thought that she was still naked under there filled him with almost unbearable tension.

  Last night she’d been his.

  Every warm, feminine inch of her.

  ‘Oliver …’ Helen pulled away from David and turned towards him, clearly embarrassed and Oliver managed a smile. In fact, he was fairly
proud of the smile. Considering the way he was feeling, it was a hell of a convincing smile.

  But he didn’t want Helen feeling guilty.

  He knew better than anyone how confused she’d felt over David and if she wanted him back in her life he certainly wasn’t going to stand in her way.

  ‘I need to go to the surgery.’

  ‘But you’re not working.’

  He gave a shrug and reached for his keys and his coat. ‘You know me by now, Helen. I’m always working.’ And he no longer had a reason to stay.

  Helen stared after Oliver and suddenly everything was clear.

  Like the mist lifting from the mountains, she suddenly saw what she wanted her future to be with perfect clarity.

  But was it too late?

  Was Oliver just going to walk away from what they’d shared the night before?

  She stood frozen to the spot and then the heavy slam of the front door galvanised her into action and she sprinted after him, desperate to talk to him, totally oblivious of the fact that David was still standing in the kitchen.

  She tugged open the front door, frantic to get to Oliver, but Oliver put his foot down, scattering shingle and snow as he drove away at speed.

  ‘No!’ Feeling utterly desolate, Helen’s slim shoulders slumped and she stared after him helplessly. Then she noticed the four-wheel drive.

  He’d taken the sex machine. Which meant she could go after him.

  Lost in thought, she gave a start as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  She’d totally forgotten about David.

  He stared after Oliver’s car with disapproval. ‘Who was that? He was driving far too fast for the road conditions.’

  ‘That,’ she said quietly, ‘is the man I love. And he’s used to the road conditions. He’s lived here all his life.’

  She turned, noticing how ridiculous David looked in his expensive suit. She’d always thought he was good-looking but suddenly she found herself noticing that his shoulders weren’t as broad as Oliver’s and he didn’t smile with his eyes. In fact, no matter which way you looked at it, he just wasn’t Oliver.

  She tried to imagine David climbing into a ditch to save a woman’s life or making a call on a Sunday unless he was being paid an exorbitant hourly rate.

  She tried to imagine David making love to her the way Oliver had the night before.

  Her face heated at the memory and she gave a soft smile.

  Love.

  That was the secret ingredient.

  That was the reason it had felt different.

  ‘Are you seriously suggesting that you love that man? You can’t possibly love him.’ David looked at her in bemusement. ‘You can’t have known the guy for more than a few weeks.’

  ‘But time doesn’t have anything to do with it, does it David?’ she said quietly, suddenly desperate to go after Oliver and talk to him. ‘You and I were together for six years, but I don’t think you ever knew the real me. And I don’t think I knew you either.’

  David looked thoroughly out of his depth. ‘Shall we continue this conversation indoors?’ he suggested, glancing up at the sky with a frown. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

  Helen shook her head. ‘Actually, I like it out here. The air is really clean and there isn’t anything more to be said. I’m really glad you came, David, because it helped me realise that we are not a good match.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’ David looked at her. ‘You would have made a perfect lawyer’s wife.’

  ‘No.’ Helen lifted her chin. ‘I’m me, David. I’m not here to make your life easier. If that’s what you want, find yourself a secretary. And now I need to get dressed.’

  And with that she hurried back into the cottage and up the stairs.

  She needed to see Oliver.

  She found him in the surgery, absorbed by something on the computer.

  ‘Oliver?’

  He lifted his head, his expression distant. ‘Hi, there.’

  She remembered just how close they’d been the night before, how he’d held her and made love to her, and wondered how he could be so reserved.

  Her heart plummeted.

  That cool reserve hurt her more than she could possibly have imagined.

  Had she misread the situation?

  ‘Listen, about David—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Helen.’ His tone was steady and he turned his attention back to the computer. ‘You must be thrilled that he came back.’

  She looked for signs of jealousy. Anything that suggested that he minded, but there was nothing.

  Misery spread through her.

  If he didn’t mind that David had come back, that could only mean one thing. ‘Oliver—’

  ‘Our relationship probably helped you put your feelings for him in perspective. It was just a bit of fun. I hope you’re not feeling guilty about it.’

  Helen stared at him, really shocked by his almost indifferent response.

  Last night he’d kissed every inch of her quivering body.

  Last night they’d whispered intimacies and shared secrets.

  Last night he’d told her that he loved her.

  And now he was talking to her as though she were a patient.

  ‘Tell me honestly …’ Her voice was croaky and suddenly she found that her hands were shaking. ‘Do you regret last night?’

  There was a long silence and when he finally turned to face her she noticed the lines of tiredness around his kind blue eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly, ‘I suppose I do.’

  Pain stifled her breathing and she backed away from him. She’d heard all she needed to hear.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was barely audible and she grabbed the door handle for support. ‘If it’s any consolation it won’t matter because I’ve decided to go back to London. I’m catching the train tonight. You won’t have to see me again.’

  He gave a brief nod, not in the slightest surprised, and Helen was astonished by the depth of her own disappointment.

  What had she expected?

  That he’d try and stop her? That he’d beg her to stay?

  He’d already told her that he regretted their relationship.

  There was nothing left to say except goodbye.

  But the words stuck in her throat and Oliver seemed more interested in his computer than her.

  So Helen quietly put his car keys on his desk, slid out of the room and walked out of the surgery with tears in her eyes.

  She’d get a taxi back to the cottage, pick up her bags and go to the station before Bryony and Jack arrived home. That way she wouldn’t be a wet blanket.

  She stood for a moment in the car park, staring at the mountains, thinking that in a month she’d recovered from David.

  All she had to do now was recover from Oliver.

  But she knew that what she felt for Oliver would be with her forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  OLIVER stared blindly at the monitor, fighting the temptation to put his fist through it.

  It had taken every ounce of will-power on his part not to crash his way through his desk and grab Helen.

  But the image of her in David’s arms had stayed with him.

  He tried to console himself with the fact that four weeks ago his life had been happy.

  Four weeks ago his life had been fine.

  But that had been before he’d met Helen.

  The door to his consulting room flew open and he glanced up eagerly, his broad shoulders sagging slightly when he saw his brother standing there.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  Tom strolled into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. ‘Bryony just rang from the airport. She’s on her way back. I came to warn you so that you can rethink accommodation for you and Helen.’

  ‘Thanks, but it’s all sorted. I’m going home after I’ve finished here.’

  ‘Home to your home?’ Tom lifted an eyebrow mockingly. ‘And what about your roof?’

  Oliver didn’t smile. ‘My roof is finished.�
��

  Tom looked at him searchingly. ‘And Helen?’

  There was a long silence and when Oliver finally spoke his voice sounded rusty. ‘David has turned up.’

  ‘David? The guy who left her?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘And she slapped his face, yes?’

  ‘Not when I was there,’ Oliver said evenly. ‘In fact, they were looking pretty cosy. She came here to say goodbye. She’s on her way back to London, presumably to begin the life she had planned before he ditched her at the altar. He’s about to make her a very happy woman.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ Tom frowned. ‘I just saw her climbing into a taxi, looking as though her best friend had died. She certainly didn’t look like a woman who’d rediscovered the love of her life.’

  Oliver gave a twisted smile. ‘Helen’s a sweet girl. I expect she was worrying that she’d hurt me. I tried to pretend that it was all just a bit of fun and that none of it mattered, but I don’t think I was very convincing.’

  Tom looked at him, his eyes searching. ‘And you’re sure you didn’t misunderstand?’

  ‘I heard her say that she was glad to see him,’ Oliver muttered, running a hand over his face and slumping in his chair. ‘Damn, Tom. I never thought it would hurt this much.’

  ‘Love?’ Tom gave a harsh laugh. ‘Love is the worst pain known to man.’

  Momentarily distracted, Oliver looked at his brother, realising that the statement had deeper implications. ‘I assume you’re talking about Sally. I’ve always wanted to know why you ended it.’

  ‘Because I thought she was too young to make that sort of commitment …’ Tom paused for a moment and his firm mouth curved into a smile of self-mockery. ‘And I was stupid,’ he finished softly. ‘Incredibly stupid.’

  Knowing that Tom never talked about Sally, Oliver held his breath. ‘And if you could put the clock back?’

  ‘It’s too late for that,’ Tom said harshly, glancing quickly at his watch, ‘but it isn’t too late for you. I suggest you go back to the cottage and knock him down. Then drag the maiden back to your lair and have your wicked way with her.’

  He’d done that the night before.

  It didn’t seem to have made even the slightest difference to her final decision.