A Cosy Candlelit Christmas: A wonderfully festive feel good romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 2)

by Tilly Tennant

  There was a second of charged silence. And then he pushed her against a nearby wall and kissed her hard. Shock and anger turned to fierce desire as an explosion of conflicting sensations coursed through her. All at once she was appalled and enraged, but the electricity of those feelings sent sparks through her entire body. She wanted to push him off and yet she wanted him more than she could understand. This was a man she could barely trust but she couldn’t deny the force of their attraction. It couldn’t go anywhere, could it? If she were thinking straight she wouldn’t even want it to go anywhere. But she wasn’t thinking straight.

  He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing harsh, still pulling her desperately close so she could feel the heat of him, even through their jackets. ‘You’re so hot when you’re angry,’ he said. ‘I want you. I want to make love to you so much I’m going to explode.’

  She was silent, her hold on his gaze almost a challenge, desperate not to melt in it.

  ‘Won’t you say something?’ he asked.

  ‘I think you should get off me,’ she said quietly.

  He shook his head slightly. ‘I cannot do that because I know you want this too. You can lie but your body does not.’

  And then he pressed into her and their mouths met again, all her logic and predictability captive in the molten lust of his touch. She needed to walk away from this before it got out of hand, but she was powerless.

  ‘Please…’ she whispered between his hot, urgent kisses. ‘Please don’t…’

  And yet her words that came out like a sigh only seemed to spur him on. Now his hands were beneath her coat, travelling the length of her body and stirring her to desperate new heights of need.

  ‘No…’ she murmured. ‘Justin, stop…’

  ‘Let’s go back to your room,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘I am so mad with desire I must have you…’

  And something clicked into place. Pushing him away, she sidestepped out of his reach. ‘No. This is not happening.’

  Rather than anger at her refusal, he threw her a sardonic smile. ‘Do you think either of us can stop it?’

  ‘You think I’m not strong enough?’

  ‘That is exactly what I think.’

  ‘You caught me off guard and you know I find you attractive. But…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know what I think about you but I do know this is all too fast. If you had any respect for me you’d slow it down.’

  ‘You are looking for love? Marriage?’

  ‘I’m not looking for a one night stand, and if you thought that you’re sadly mistaken. I might look vulnerable and in need of a friend, but I’m not.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘But you thought it. Perfect situation to get a desperation shag, right?’

  ‘There is no need to complicate things. You want me and I want you – why do we need anything else? Passion is life and everything else is unnecessary.’

  Isla wrapped her arms around herself and stepped away as he made another move towards her. ‘Justin – why did you go back to Serendipity Sound yesterday and take down all the Christmas decorations?’

  The mocking, patronising smile slipped from his face. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he replied, but it wasn’t quick enough and Isla knew he knew something about it.

  ‘I went there. Today. I just wanted another look. I couldn’t get in, of course, because besides Grover Rousseau you have the only keys, so I looked through the windows and you know what I saw?’

  He shook his head slightly.

  ‘I saw a perfectly tinsel-free room. How do you explain that? More to the point, why would that happen?’

  ‘I thought I would tidy it for you.’

  ‘So you went back? And you tidied it out of the goodness of your heart? Wow, you must really have wanted sex, though it’s an unusual seduction technique by most standards. I’m not bothered that you went back because you had some weird compulsion to tidy some old tinsel away, but I don’t know why you just felt the need to keep it from me and then lie when I asked.’ She stared at him for a moment more, and then shook her head. ‘You know what, it’s not even worth the hassle. Forget dinner, I’ll ask Dahlia to fix me a sandwich.’

  She turned and began to walk.

  ‘I was wrong!’ he called. ‘Isla! Come back and let’s talk!’

  But she didn’t stop and he didn’t follow.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Isla paced the room as she waited for her mum to pick up the phone. She didn’t even know what she was going to say to her. Above all else, she was angry with herself for letting Justin get to her – both with his jibes and with his damn sexual magnetism. She didn’t need that jumped-up little shit to tell her what sort of woman her mother was, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t love her just the same. Glory was difficult and stubborn and prone to passionate outbursts, fierce in love and even fiercer when you crossed her. But what if all the years of her demonising Isla’s father had coloured her view? What if, far from being the perpetrator of the hurt, he’d been a genuine victim of it? What if he really hadn’t been the bad guy? Her mother had blamed her father for just about everything that had ever gone wrong in their lives, but was that fair? Who was Isla supposed to believe? She couldn’t believe her mother was the villain of the piece, even if she now doubted her father’s guilt. Marriages ended all the time and sometimes it was just nobody’s fault. Isla wanted to believe that of her parents’ marriage. Right now, she didn’t know what to think.

  ‘Finally she decides to phone me,’ Glory said in prim tones as she answered. ‘I’d almost forgotten I had a daughter. I suppose you’re having such a wonderful time with him that you’d almost forgotten you had a mother.’

  ‘It’s been a bit busy. I’ve been out and about, taking in the scenery, you know… I probably won’t ever get the chance to come back here. And the phone signal has been pretty bad,’ she added. Not quite the truth but easier than admitting that she just hadn’t felt like talking to her.

  ‘They don’t have landlines in France?’

  ‘I suppose so, I just never seem to catch the hotel owner to ask.’

  Glory gave a sharp click of her tongue. ‘So, you’re coming home tomorrow?’

  ‘The day after.’

  ‘Your aunts have arrived for Christmas with your cousins. They’re helping me to get the house ready.’

  A deliberate dig designed to make Isla feel guilty for not being there. She wouldn’t rise to it, not when so much else needed her attention. ‘That’s nice. It’ll be good to catch up with them when I get home.’

  Silent tears began as she sat on the bed. Why did life have to be so complicated? Why did she have to feel so disloyal for giving her father a chance? Why couldn’t she have normal parents like other people had? Covering the phone, she sniffed hard and dried her tears.

  ‘Are you OK, though, Mum?’ she asked in a gap between sobs.

  ‘I’m always OK,’ Glory said. ‘I’ve always had to be.’ There was a pause. ‘What’s his new wife like?’

  ‘Ian’s? She seems nice enough. She’s hardly new, though, they have two grown-up kids.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Have you seen a lot of them?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ Isla said, which was the truth. Considering how long she’d been in St Martin-de-Belleville she hadn’t really seen much of them at all.

  ‘But you’re all happy families now I suppose?’

  ‘We’re getting along, if that’s what you mean. But we have to – it’s a condition of Grandma Sarah’s will.’

  ‘For what? What has she left to you?’

  ‘A house.’

  There was silence at the other end of the phone.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘A house?’ Glory repeated in a husky voice. ‘Are you serious? You inherited a house and this is the first you’re telling me?’

  ‘It didn’t seem that important.’

  ‘It’s a house!’ Glory cried, and
Isla could hear the blind panic in her voice. ‘Does this mean you’re staying in France?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then what is the point in having a house there? Tell them you don’t want it!’

  ‘I did, but Ian and Celine can’t get their inheritance if I don’t accept mine – it’s a condition of the will.’

  ‘What does that matter to you? It’s their problem, not yours! You owe that man nothing!’

  ‘I know, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help. What’s the point in us all losing out?’

  ‘Why do you care what happens to him? He’s got to you – I knew he would!’

  ‘Mum, nobody has got to me! You sound hysterical and you need to calm down.’

  ‘Is this how you repay all the years I spent alone raising you? Telling me I’m hysterical like I’m the bad person! What has he said about me? I suppose he’s told you I was awful, how cruel and mean I was—’

  ‘No, as a matter of fact he’s been very diplomatic—’

  ‘Diplomatic! This can’t be the same man I was married to!’

  Isla pinched the bridge of her nose as she held the phone away from her ear and looked at it. Glory was still yammering away at the other end of the line. She could press a button and end this call. If she’d hoped to get comfort from hearing her mum’s voice, it looked as though she was going to be disappointed.

  ‘Mum…’ Isla took a deep breath. ‘I love you and you know that. I’m not going to move to France but I’m not going to give up my inheritance or my new relationship with Dad.’

  Dad. She hadn’t yet felt right calling him that but somehow, as she said it, it sounded perfectly natural for the first time since she’d arrived here. And then another realisation hit her. She liked him. A lot. She couldn’t say she loved him yet like she loved her mother, but she liked him and right now that was easier to deal with, because love and like were sometimes very different things.

  ‘But all those years! Don’t they mean anything to you?’

  ‘You were as responsible for the rift as he was and don’t try to deny it because there’s no point.’

  ‘That’s what he’s been saying?’

  ‘Actually, no. He had more dignity than to blame you for everything. But I know about the letters you refused to give me and the phone calls you wouldn’t allow me to take. I know it all, Mum, and I forgive you, but you have to let me forgive him too. I need some balance in my life and this is the way I can finally get it.’

  Glory was silent again.

  ‘You’re sulking now?’ Isla said. ‘I’m a bad, ungrateful daughter, I know. Just let me do this and I promise I’ll be home and all yours again in a couple of days, OK?’

  ‘I miss you,’ Glory said, her voice cracking. Isla couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard that sort of emotion in it.

  ‘I know you do. And I miss you too. I’ll be back before you know it and we can talk things over properly.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘You don’t need to hope because it’s happening. A couple more days, OK? You’ve got a houseful of sisters so I’m sure you can keep yourself busy until I get back.’

  ‘Of course. I can’t help worrying.’

  ‘I know. I love you, Mum.’

  ‘I love you too. You’re the most important person in the world to me and…’

  Isla didn’t need her to say it. Glory was terrified of losing her daughter, even though she knew she couldn’t have that little girl forever and hadn’t really had her for a long time now. But what she couldn’t seem to understand was that she didn’t need little girl Isla any more when she had a grown woman who would love and support her no matter what she did. Isla might have known what sort of woman her mum was, but she was her mum nonetheless and she always would be.

  Half an hour had passed since she’d ended the call to her mum and now that she’d worked through that part of her emotional turmoil, she found herself wholly absorbed by thoughts of Justin. Regret and shame filled her heart as she relived their encounter that evening. She’d been weak and pathetic and she was angry with herself more than him for what had happened between them. The signs had been there but she’d chosen to ignore them, dazzled by his charm and good looks, that delicious accent. Had she been so desperate for the hand of friendship and mediation he’d offered? Did her dad know what he was capable of? He’d certainly sounded surprised by the news that they were meant to go out for dinner together that night, so perhaps he didn’t. At least, she wanted to believe that he didn’t.

  Dialling Dodie’s number, she chewed on a thumbnail as she waited for her friend to answer. But it rang out and she hung up. She needed to talk to someone, even if it was about something and nothing to take her mind off things. Someone she could trust not to judge her. Someone who was a friend.

  Putting the phone to one side, she pulled on her boots and cardigan and snatched up the keys to her room. She was halfway down the corridor to Seb’s room when she stopped. What would she say? What if he was busy? Would it seem like she was intruding on his privacy, turning up unannounced at his door? Then he wouldn’t be able to turn her away even if he wanted to, and he’d be too nice to do that anyway no matter how much of an inconvenience she was. Not only that but in a tiny corner of her mind she was afraid she couldn’t trust herself, not after her disastrous encounter with Justin. Hadn’t there been a moment with Seb too, back on the lake? She’d tried to deny it but now, with distance and reflection, she had to recognise it for what it was. Seb was a world away from Justin, of course, but still…

  She turned on her heel and made her way back to her own room. Whatever troublesome thoughts were running amok in her mind right now, it looked as if she’d have to round them up and deal with them on her own.

  The combination of emotional overload and clean mountain air had knocked her spark out, just when she’d least expected it. Returning to her room, she’d collapsed onto the bed and nodded off, on top of the covers and still in full make-up.

  She awoke the next day to find Justin had left a raft of missed calls and text messages on her phone. In every message, a thinly disguised attempt at blame dressed up as an apology. Like how she drove him crazy because she was so unobtainable, like a prize he just had to win, how her beauty and self-sufficiency made him act in ways that were not like his usual self, how she got under his skin and made him lose control. Nobody had that much power over someone else, Isla reflected, and if he couldn’t show any self-restraint then what was the next step? She didn’t want to find out. Though the messages were meant to win her over, they were having the opposite effect; she didn’t want to spend time alone with a man who had no self-control in her presence. She decided not to reply.

  Still groggy from her deep sleep, she splashed some water on her face to wake herself, put on some fresh clothes and headed to the breakfast room. She had an appointment to keep but couldn’t help but feel disappointed not to see Seb there before she left. A quick look out of the window at snow falling thick and fast told her that he wouldn’t have gone far if he was out studying. At least she hoped he wouldn’t have because, although it was pretty, it didn’t look very safe to be driving around in, especially up to a glacier.

  ‘The weather’s set to move in,’ Ian said as she stamped the snow from her boots at the doorway of his sports hire shop. He was behind the counter with Celine at his side. Her two half-siblings, for the first time, were nowhere to be seen.

  ‘You might want to check on the flights,’ he added. ‘We’ve got a blizzard on the way and you may find yours is delayed.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ Isla replied a bit shortly, but then she looked again and saw genuine concern in his expression. ‘I’ll check online when I get back, don’t worry,’ she said, softening her tone. ‘Mum will kill me if I don’t make it home for Christmas, though. I’m not sure if I’d rather risk flying in a blizzard.’

  To her surprise, he chuckled warmly at her flippant comment. ‘I think I’d have to ag
ree with you on that. Subtlety was never her strong point.’ He glanced briefly at Celine and then at Isla again. ‘How are you planning on getting back to the airport?’

  ‘Same way I got here,’ Isla replied. ‘On the bus.’

  ‘I could drive you, if you liked.’

  Celine looked at him sharply now and Isla couldn’t help an inward smile, guessing this had not been in the script.

  ‘Maybe. I’ll let you know, thanks.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. And it has nothing to do with… you know, this…’

  Isla raised her eyebrows. ‘I never thought for a minute it had. But thanks for clearing that up.’

  Ian gave a rueful smile, and in it Isla suddenly saw every moment of regret he must have had over the last twenty-four years. It took all her strength not to lean across the counter and hug him, but now didn’t seem like the time. Perhaps it was already too late for it ever to be the time. Perhaps this progress, here and now, was the best they could ever hope for. Celine looked up with a forced smile as a party of skiers arrived with equipment to return.

  ‘It might be quieter in the back,’ Ian said, beckoning Isla to follow him to a private office behind the main shop.

  Closing the door behind them, Ian bade Isla sit in a battered old armchair while he pulled up a spare seat across from her.

  ‘Coffee?’ he asked. ‘Tea?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Are ye though?’ he asked. Isla couldn’t help but smile at the lapse into his native accent. She’d never heard it that plainly before. ‘Because I can’t help feeling there’s still a lot of hurt in there. And I’d understand why.’

  ‘It’s not easy,’ Isla admitted. ‘I don’t know what happened between you and Mum, and maybe I don’t want to know. All I know is that she was around for me and you weren’t. Is it any wonder I’m having a hard time trusting you? I don’t want to be this way but I can’t help it. I’m rude and snappy and I don’t like those qualities about myself any more than you do, but it’s the only way I know how to be. It’s a defence mechanism, you know? So I can’t get hurt.’