The Christmas Sisters

“Are you laughing at me? Because I can tell you I’ve had the most stressful flight of my life imagining you with this Eric. Your sister said he was the outdoor type, and I was imagining big shoulders and—” He broke off. “Is it going to damage our relationship if I kill your sister?”

“Not at all. I was going to kill her myself. It’s the reason I came upstairs.”

“I thought the reason you came upstairs was to escape from me.” He kissed her again. “Your sister was being protective, which I like, but I don’t much like the idea that I was the one she was protecting you from.”

Hannah swallowed. “It’s complicated.”

“Not from where I’m standing.” He pulled her against him. “Eric needs to know that I’ll fight him for you.”

“As a matter of interest, what would you have done if he’d been a person?”

“I don’t know. You’re assuming there was some logical thought behind my actions, but the truth is I went all Neanderthal and jumped on a plane.”

“They didn’t have planes two hundred thousand years ago.”

“I don’t think Neanderthals were called Eric, either. You have no idea how relieved I am not to find you sharing your room with a kilt-wearing, muscle-bound Highlander.” He brought his mouth down on hers and she felt the familiar kick of heat that only ever happened with him. Her body melted, pleasure sliding through her with delicious sweetness. Before she’d met Adam, she’d never known a kiss could be so intimate and yet the way he kissed her was so personal, so knowing, that it was almost as if he had a blueprint that showed him the location of all her nerve endings. He held her head, stoking sensation with the slow slide of his tongue and the gentle pressure of his fingers. She felt dizzy and disorientated, as if she’d drunk a glass of whiskey too fast or spun like one of the ballet dancers Melly loved to watch.

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he backed her to the bed and tumbled her onto the mattress.

Hannah gasped. When she was with him, she didn’t just lose her balance, she lost a part of herself. The part she relied on to keep herself safe. “We shouldn’t—I’m not sure—” When he was kissing her, she couldn’t hold the thought for long enough to finish the sentence. “It’s complicated.”

“This part isn’t complicated.” His hands were in her hair, his mouth trailing over her jaw, her throat, her shoulder. With a smooth sense of purpose, he slid off her sweater and unbuttoned her shirt, giving himself access to bare skin. “This part isn’t complicated at all.”

She tried to respond, but all she could manage was a faint murmur and he lifted his head, slowly, reluctantly, as if someone was dragging him away from her.

He fixed her with his gaze, the thoroughly male assessment leaving her breathless. “Do you want me to stop?”

Given what he was now doing with his hands, she didn’t consider that a fair question.

He gave a slow smile and, as he stroked his way down her body, Hannah discovered that she definitely didn’t want him to stop. Nor did she want him to fly home or sleep in the pub.

She wanted him to stay right here with her. She wanted it enough that she was prepared to expose their fragile relationship to the scrutiny of her family. She wanted it enough that she was prepared to deal with Suzanne’s expectations.

In a tiny corner of her mind, buried under an excess of sensation and endorphins, was the knowledge that she still had to tell him she was pregnant.

But not tonight.

It had been a long day. An even longer evening.

Hopefully it would also be a long night.

There was plenty of time for that conversation.

24

Posy

Refusing her mother’s offer of a nightcap, Posy stomped her way across to the barn, her feet crunching through fresh snow. It coated the trees, bending branches and muffling sound. It reflected the moonlight, removing all need for a torch.

Normally the landscape soothed her, but tonight not even the crisp cold air or the soft smell of wood smoke drifting from the lodge could lift her spirits.

She was still angry with Luke and humiliated, but her overwhelming emotion was one of misery. Not misery because of Luke. Misery because she’d upset Hannah. For the first time in ages, they’d shared confidences and laughter. She’d learned new things tonight. Things about their past relationship. Things about her sister. There had been a shift in the atmosphere and for a fleeting moment she’d felt a closeness that she couldn’t remember feeling before.

But she’d killed it.

Why had she opened her big mouth and suggested Adam come?

On the other hand, she’d intended it as a joke. How was she to know he’d actually do it? She didn’t know many men that committed.