Christmas Holiday Husband

by Kris Pearson

  I want to be more than just fun.

  He was still pumped up hard; far from sated.

  He moved experimentally, watching for her reaction.

  “No way, Tony. Out! We’ve already taken a horrendous risk. I’m not stupid enough to add to it.”

  Regretfully he withdrew, in long gentle strokes, reversing direction several times.

  “Out...” she growled again, insisting upon his withdrawal and trying to struggle away from his embrace.

  Finally he lowered her to the floor. “How am I going to manage in Melbourne without you? Shall we see if there’s a spare seat in business class? You could go shopping...?” He kissed her neck, whispering into her ear as he nibbled on the soft sensitive lobe. “For pretty underwear.”

  xxx

  Ellie knew he was attempting to seduce her all over again—not with the promise of a shopping trip but with the magnetism of his body and the sensuality of his kisses.

  Two could play at that! She pushed him back against the door and locked it, then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it part way down to trap his arms, enjoying her view of his broad shoulders, and the hard muscles of his chest under crisp dark hair.

  They stood facing each other, breathing the same air, millimetres apart.

  “No,” she whispered, slipping a hand down to caress him.

  He caught his breath as she explored.

  “No to Melbourne, although I agree you have a very nice little friend down here who once again seems pleased to see me.”

  She tightened her grip, sliding and teasing. “And who certainly does feel willing to repeat his recent very pleasurable performance.”

  Tony closed his eyes, and she continued her taunting massage.

  “No to Melbourne because your girls need bringing up to speed before they start school.” She settled her hand more firmly around him, enjoying being the one in control.

  “No to Melbourne because I’d never let you out of bed to attend your wretched conference, whatever it is.”

  “Optimising the fertility of a beef stud,” he muttered as she gently squeezed his own studly attributes.

  “Well, in case you’re in the high fertility range yourself, we’re going to need plenty of your late night purchases for this little affair,” she emphasised, flicking her tongue over his nipples, nipping at him until he groaned. “Next time we’re taking no risks. But for now, just relax. We’ve got five more minutes and I’m going to make you remember me for the next three days.”

  “Wait until Saturday evening—I’ll have the whole night to sort you out in return...”

  “Promises, promises,” she teased, watching his face as purest pleasure washed over it—and wondering how she could ever survive until then.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  He’d gone. Once again darkly suited, a surprising but desirable stranger. He’d flown himself as far as Wellington and then boarded a commercial jet for Australia.

  The rest of Wednesday stretched out in a sticky morass. Before starting the classroom sessions, Ellie set Cal’s photo back beside her bed, peering even more closely at his face now she had Tony’s features fresh in her mind.

  Callum’s skin was olive and his chin had a central dimple—maybe the start of his father’s cleft?

  His eyes were the absolute clincher—the angle somehow exactly Tony’s, the colour an absolute replica—the same coffee-and-whiskey combination that had snared her attention so long ago.

  Was she being unfair, keeping her son a secret from his father? Should she have told Tony about Callum as soon as they met? The guilt twisted her gut into knots.

  But Tony had never intended to give her a child, and his travelling had meant they’d immediately lost touch. Her desperate but amateur search for him had failed. He’d never tried to find her in return. There’d been no connection in all these long years.

  He had his daughters. She had her son. She tried to persuade herself it was fair to keep it that way.

  Now that she knew Tony’s real position in the world, she resolved to be even more guarded. He had money and influence...vast resources for lawyers and court cases if he wished to try and lay claim to his son. Her son.

  How would that stack up against her ten years of unconditional love? Ellie was savvy enough to know that money always won out in the end. If she had to give Cal into his father’s custody even for occasional weekends or school holidays, he’d be slowly stolen away from her, and that would be devastating.

  Cal wasn’t the only one-parent child amongst his friends. He had a loving mother and a doting grandmother—more than some children were lucky enough to have.

  Did he hope that one day his ‘dead’ father would reappear, as if by magic?

  He was a happy, open child and Ellie felt she could read him correctly. Hoped she could read him correctly.

  No, she’d keep Cal’s existence hidden from Tony, even if the guilt was overwhelming.

  And you’ll be depriving him of all the things his father can give him, her conscience insisted. A wonderful historic home. Two lively sisters so he’d feel part of a real family. A swimming pool and a trampoline. A pony? Education at one of the best schools? The chance to roam the huge farm...maybe inherit part of it?

  As she gazed at her son’s photo, she knew there was something outweighing all of those. The knowledge his father loved him and wanted him. For surely Tony would jump at the chance to know his son? He loved his daughters fiercely. He’d treasure a son who was his absolute image.

  And that was the killer. Could she really deprive Cal of his father’s love?

  With a heavy heart, she headed for the schoolroom.

  xxx

  Thursday came and went. She knew some of the other people at Wharemoana now—old Herbie the gardener, still devastated that his wheelbarrow had caused Steven’s injuries...Janine who helped Ginny with the housework in the huge homestead...Alan Waring the farm mechanic, always coaxing some sort of machinery back to life in one of the nearby buildings.

  But the man she yearned to see was nowhere in sight.

  xxx

  Friday ticked past, one slow second at a time, and at last, near midday on Saturday, she heard the helicopter signalling Tony’s return. She dashed upstairs, hid Cal’s photograph amongst her underwear again, and closed the drawer.

  “Daddy!” the twins squealed, hugging a long leg each as he stopped under the portico. He cuddled them close, but his eyes were on Ellie as she hesitated by the ruby-red front door. “Did you miss me?”

  “Yes!” they chorused.

  Ellie nodded and he grinned. ”I missed your pretty hair,’ he said, stroking his daughters’ blonde heads and glancing up at Ellie. “And your lovely eyes.”

  Caro and Ants gazed at him adoringly, never knowing his compliments were for their teacher.

  “And your fun and games.”

  Ellie tried to stifle her giggles. “No fun and games in Melbourne?” she asked.

  He rolled his eyes.

  She’d been two minutes back in his presence and already liquid heat and anticipation flowed through her. She leaned on the doorframe, knees full of jelly, as the twins raced into the house.

  Tony cast a swift look around the entrance lobby and ensured they couldn’t be seen. “Ellie,” he breathed, tilting her head up for a kiss so gentle that she pressed into him, desperate to deepen the contact. Three days apart had played havoc with her libido. He’d awakened her and then deserted her. Her dreams had been hot and vivid. Her daydreams had been hot and vivid...

  As she’d taught the twins the sounds of the alphabet, she’d heard Tony’s voice—his soft exclamations of ‘aahhh’ and ‘mmmmm’ as she had rubbed and stroked and teased him on Wednesday morning. The sharp ‘sssssss’ as he clenched his teeth, stifling his shout of ecstasy, eyes fixed on her face as she’d brought him to climax. He’d been on her mind every moment he’d been away.

  Ginny’s shoes tapped across the terracotta tiles in the kitchen and they wrenched themselves ap
art.

  He crossed to the doorway. “Home safely, Ginny. What’s for lunch?”

  “Didn’t you eat on the plane?”

  “Early breakfast. It seems a while ago. I’ll go and get changed.” He hefted his bag and swung up the stairs to his room, giving Ellie a conspiratorial wink on the way by.

  She’d dressed with care to welcome him home. Grudgingly chosen one of Julia’s beautiful unworn Italian tops to wear with her white trousers. The soft bands of nutmeg and ginger contrasted with her gleaming, newly washed dark hair. An extra coat of mascara gave her eyes more drama than usual. She knew she looked pretty—for all the good it would do.

  xxx

  Tony enjoyed that image of her as he unpacked and changed. She’d been a girl when he’d first met her. Now she was all woman—warm welcoming woman—but only for the next few weeks. She’d made it plain she’d be leaving him to return to her new house in town and her old life as a teacher. He blew out a frustrated breath as he tossed his laundry aside and located the gifts he’d bought.

  Instead of revising his lecture notes on the Melbourne flight, he’d spent most of the time thinking of her and planning how to prolong their contact.

  He’d fallen hard all those years ago. Hadn’t wanted to become so attached before travelling on with Darren. He’d been careful to give Ellie the opportunity to turn away, even though it had nearly killed him. But she’d been just as deeply attracted. And she’d been his first and only virgin. He’d never forgotten that.

  Rediscovering her in the kitchen at Wharemoana had brought submerged memories shooting to the sunlit surface. She’d been so sweetly eager in Sydney, so uninhibited and willing to learn. And at twenty-four, Tony was experienced. He’d taught her about herself...himself... And then she’d surprised him by going way beyond that, inventing new games and pleasures. They’d been sensational together, their chemistry explosive.

  Now she’d yanked him alive again. Set his blood racing. And made it clear he’d have no part in her future.

  He turned that thought around bitterly.

  Mutual pleasure, no strings—that had been their bargain. Easy enough to agree to at the time. She’d been so playful on the river bank he’d wanted her on any terms she set. But terms could be renegotiated—and they would be. If he worked on her with enough skill he’d persuade her. In any negotiation there was room for movement.

  xxx

  Ginny served lunch on the terrace table under the big green shade umbrella. Once they’d finished, Tony retrieved his hidden gifts from the sitting room.

  “All got clean hands? You don’t want butter over these pretty things,” he said as he teased his daughters with colourful bags containing kitten and puppy T-shirts.

  “And for Ginny,” he said, handing over a soft package wrapped in golden paper and bound with slim silver ribbons.

  “You didn’t have to do this, Robbie,” she said, smiling her gratitude nevertheless.

  “I found a wonderful little French boutique,” he said, sliding a much smaller, golden packet across to Ellie.

  She stared back at him in disbelief. “I’m only the teacher,” she said.

  Ginny shook out the folds of an elegant lace-trimmed nightgown and held it up by its shoulders, fingering the fabric. “That’s lovely, Robbie—you’ve been very extravagant. Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “And what do you think of yours?” he asked Ellie. She still sat frozen, stunned to be included. What would Ginny think now?

  “At least it’s small,” she muttered, slipping the silver trim undone and folding the paper and tissue wrapping aside to reveal something cherry red with emerald ribbon woven through tiny hand-worked slots. Expelling her breath with annoyance, she slipped her fingers under the narrow straps and lifted up an exquisite silk camisole for the others to admire. The front plunged deeply. There were panels of cherry lace to cradle her breasts. The slender emerald ribbon wove its way above and below this area for extra emphasis. Tiny green bows marched from breastbone to hem.

  “I thought you could wear it at Christmas,” Tony said. “The colours are just right. I didn’t know what sort of panties you’d prefer, so I bought both.”

  Swallowing, Ellie turned back a further fold in the tissue paper and uncovered matching silk bikini panties with emerald bows trimming the transparent cherry lace front panel. And the tiniest thong in the world. No more than a lacy band and a narrow silk strap. She blanched at the implications of such a gift, folded the panties swiftly away and laid the camisole on top.

  “You’ve no business giving me these,” she said, horrified he’d produce something so intimate in front of his family.

  “An apple for the teacher,” he suggested, eyes dancing.

  Ellie glared at him. “A bit more than an apple.”

  She caught Ginny’s amused expression, and a furious flush raced up her neck to overtake her previous icy calm.

  “You did have some fun, Robbie,” Ginny said before she could explode.

  “Indeed I did. It was about time.” He sat relaxed, smiling at his daughters as they held their T-shirts up to show each other. “So will everything fit?”

  Ellie left the table as soon as possible, snatching up her gift and taking it out of sight. No man had ever bought her anything so personal, or so exquisite. But why hadn’t he waited until they were alone to let her unwrap it in privacy? It was almost as though he was laying claim to her in front of his daughters and mother-in-law. That thought was enough to send shivers of terror racing right through her as she flopped down on her bed.

  How could she keep Cal a secret from him if he decided to seriously pursue her? It would no doubt be a huge emotional adjustment for Tony to find he had a son. But he would cope.

  What absolutely ate at her was Cal’s reaction.

  How would he feel if he found he’d had a father living only hours away for most of his life? A handsome father he was the absolute image of? A father who’d have provided anything he’d ever wanted or needed?

  Ellie’s meagre funds and stringent budgeting hadn’t stretched to longed-for toys and games, or many new clothes. Right now Cal didn’t even have his own bedroom—although that at least would soon change, provided she managed to keep his paternity a secret from Tony. The fact that she’d genuinely not known of Tony’s proximity would cut no ice with her son.

  Would she have forgiven her own mother if she’d sprung something like this on her? A million times, no!

  There was a discreet tap at her door.

  “Ellie? Can I come in?”

  She glanced across to check that Cal’s photo was out of sight, rose from the bed and opened the door a crack.

  “Do they fit?” he asked.

  Dear heaven, he expected she’d dashed away to try his finery on. “Probably.”

  “May I see?”

  “I haven’t got them on.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Ellie—why not? I’ve been sitting down there imagining you stripping off and having a little try-on.”

  “Why did you have to do it in front of everybody?” she demanded, face burning. “Why couldn’t you wait? Have you any idea what Ginny thinks now?”

  “I had a fairly good idea what Ginny thought before I went away. She had a little word...”

  “About your intentions being honourable?”

  “I assured her yours weren’t...”

  God, this is worse than ever, Ellie agonized. “Yes...well...” she floundered. “This can’t be permanent, Tony. I told you that.”

  He pushed the door further open and stepped inside. “So let’s at least make it nice while it lasts,” he said, drawing her close against him and holding her there despite her seething fury. He settled his groin into the notch of her thighs, soothing her with his hands, igniting her with his hips.

  “It’s only going to make it worse when I leave,” she muttered miserably.

  “So we’re not quite dead in the water yet?”

  “Tony—Tuesday n
ight wouldn’t have happened if we were dead in the water! I’m not that much of a tramp.”

  “You’re not any kind of tramp. But we do have unfinished business, Ellie. You still turn me on without even touching me. And when we’re as close as this...”

  She knew exactly what he meant.

  “So show me how you look in your panties, my scarlet woman.”

  “It’s not Christmas yet,” she pouted, shrugging out of the striped knit top, despite having no intention of doing so. She turned away to unclip her bra. Tony’s hands cupped her breasts an instant later. His breath wafted over her shoulders...his lips travelled down her neck...his hands turned her so he could trail a line of soft hot kisses down to one distended pink nipple and then across to the other. Sighing, he smoothed his face over her breasts. “No—not Christmas yet,” he agreed. “But I want to see my decorations on you.”

  “Lock the door,” she murmured, already drunk and disoriented by his attentions.

  “Put your pretties on, then,” he countered, releasing her and moving away to ensure their privacy.

  She slipped her hands into the camisole and Tony returned. “Allow me, Mademoiselle,” he said, kissing each breast again while her arms were still held aloft.

  Ellie stayed still, and he began to use his teeth on her, scraping and nipping, biting with such slowly building momentum that she felt no pain...only the smooth sweep of his tongue, gentling her after each practiced liberty he took.

  She loved this. He drove her mad by biting gently, and then not so gently. Ellie moaned and gasped, and clawed at his hair—eyes tightly closed to concentrate the sensation. She clung to him, trembling, whimpering his name.

  He drew back, smoothing the camisole down over her body, snuggling her breasts into the cobwebby lace. Her nipples now thrust the fabric into sharp peaks.

  “See how hard you are, Ellie. See how beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling at the lace. “Even lovelier than Sydney. Now I want the panties on.”