She’d been sledding in Queenstown as a child in the New Zealand winter, the middle of July, but hadn’t done it for years, and the next couple of hours were the most fun she’d had in a long time. They stayed on the shallower slopes as Oscar was still so young, and the first few times she sat him with her until he got used to the sensation of bombing through the snow. But it wasn’t long before he wanted his own sled, and soon the four of them were having races, starting in a line and hurtling down the slopes squealing until they hit the bottom, frequently tumbling off at the end.
Eva thought Oscar might have got tired after a couple of goes, but time after time he took his sled and dragged it back up the slope to the top, ready for another go, yelling to Isabel that this time he was going to beat her, and screaming with delight the times he did get to the bottom before she did.
And at the end, when he was too tired to pull his sled to the top, Rudi carried him up a few more times so he could join in until Isabel had finished, settling him in front on the sled and chatting to him all the while as they wove down the slopes.
Eva smiled to hear their manly conversations, so different to her own fussing and worrying.
“Faster this time,” Oscar instructed, getting comfortable between Rudi’s legs.
“Right-ho. Speed of lightning.”
“Speedy lightning,” Oscar confirmed.
“We might take off,” Rudi said.
“Like Rudolph!” Oscar chortled.
“Your nose is redder than mine,” Rudi said, grinning.
“No, your nose is redder.” Oscar looked delighted at the argument.
And they careered down the slope, tumbling off into a heap of snow and subsiding into gales of laughter.
Eva and Isabel followed at a more ladylike pace, and Eva caught the young girl glancing over at her occasionally, adjusting her hold on the sled or shifting her position to match Eva’s. It was only when Isabel pulled off her hat when she got hot that Eva saw the younger girl had tied her blonde locks back in a knot at the nape of her neck in the exact same way Eva had done her own hair that morning, looped through and secured with a scrunchie. Isabel was copying her, she realised. The thought took her aback. She was sure Isabel was aware on some level of what was going on between her and Rudi, and she’d assumed it would upset the young girl—that she would resent her for coming between Rudi and her mother, because didn’t all children secretly hope separated parents would get back together again? But clearly Isabel wasn’t upset with her. If anything, it appeared quite the opposite.
Finally tired, they took their sleds back to the shed. A small van selling hot and cold drinks and snacks had opened up, to Eva’s delight, and so she and Rudi bought a coffee, Isabel had hot chocolate and Oscar had a fruit juice, and they shared a couple of hot pies while they discussed what to do next.
“I have an idea,” Rudi said, and gestured to the reindeer stalls across the road.
Eva nodded and the kids were enthusiastic, so Rudi went over and booked a ticket. Within ten minutes, as they finished their drinks, their number was called, and they all climbed into the sleigh. Eva settled back next to Rudi, the kids in front, and there wasn’t a huge amount of room, so it seemed natural to nestle up against him, and for him to put his arm around her. They were given blankets to cover their legs and keep them cosy, and then they were off.
The driver flicked the reins, and the reindeer at the front proceeded to take them on a tour of Santa’s Secret Village before heading off into the forest.
Eva leaned against Rudi, comforted by his body heat even through his coat, comfortable and content. The trees opened up and then closed around them, encasing them in a winter wonderland. Snow slid to the ground with a thump from the conifers as they passed, icicles jangled from branches, and small animals skittered into the undergrowth as the sleigh wound its way through the forest.
It was already semi-twilight, but in the forest it grew dark; however, the trees had been decorated at regular intervals with large lanterns that made Eva think of Narnia and wonder if somewhere there was a doorway through to a wardrobe in a distant land. Snowflakes fluttered down on them as they passed beneath the trees, dusting Rudi’s hair and shoulders where he’d removed his hat, and when he finally bent his head to kiss her, his lips were cool, but his tongue as it brushed hers was warm.
He lifted his head just in time for Eva to catch Isabel’s glance. The young girl had seen them kiss. It had been only brief, but she’d obviously looked around at just the right time. Eva held her breath, expecting an outburst, but Isabel just turned her head away and didn’t say anything. Rudi obviously hadn’t noticed, busy pointing out the flash of reddish-brown against the white as a fox darted through the bushes. Should she tell him that Isabel knew about them? She decided to think on it, and maybe mention it later, if and when they were alone.
When they got back, they went into the restaurant and had some lunch. Eva insisted on paying this time, as Rudi had paid the day before, even though he promised he didn’t mind. They decided to order a big pizza between them, and munched on pepperoni and fries before the kids ran off to the play area.
“I have to tell you something,” Eva said once they’d gone, a little nervous of his reaction.
“What?” He leaned back in his seat, one arm over the back of his chair. He’d taken off his coat, and he looked almost edible in a soft grey jumper over a light blue shirt. He sat watching her, and the way his eyelids had lowered to half-mast, and the lazy smile on his face, suggested to her that his thoughts might be starting to wander down the same path as her own, with the thought looming of some possible free time together that afternoon. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his mouth, remembering how he’d kissed down her body to pleasure her with his tongue.
She blinked. She couldn’t think about that now. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I think Isabel knows about us.”
His eyebrows rose. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m sure she saw us kissing in the sled. And I think she was listening to our conversation in here yesterday. I don’t know. I’m just sure she suspects.”
“She has not said anything to me.”
“Even so… Do you think you should talk to her about it?”
He looked down then, and played with the handle of his coffee cup. “I do not see much point, at the moment anyway. There is not that much to tell.”
She thought she understood what he was trying to say. This relationship was fleeting, like a snowflake caught on the palm; beautiful and fascinating, but hardly long lasting. What was the point in him having a long, in-depth conversation with his daughter about Eva, when in two days it would all be over?
He looked back up then, and his expression softened, as if he had seen the sudden pain that passed through her. She forced herself to smile, not wanting to spoil their time together. Live for the moment, she reminded herself. She already knew it was going to hurt when they parted, and it wouldn’t hurt any less if she told him now that she didn’t want to spend any more time with him. And he knew his daughter better than she did. If he didn’t think it was worth talking to Isabel, who was she to say?
She decided to change the subject, wanting to see that light appear in his eyes again. “Does Isabel want to go to the Little Elves after lunch?”
The light reappeared. “I believe so. Does Oscar?”
“Oh yes, he’s very excited.” She leaned on the table, studying Rudi’s mouth. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself for two whole hours though. I’m sure I’ll get terribly bored.”
He leaned forwards as well, until they were only about a foot apart. “Well, we will have to see if we can keep you entertained.”
She moistened her lips, not missing the way his gaze dropped to them briefly. “Do you have any suggestions? Juggling maybe? A crossword or two?”
He looked amused. “I was thinking more of trying out the sauna.”
Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of them sittin
g together in the tiny room, skin shiny and damp with sweat. “Oh.”
He chuckled. “Your eyes look as if they are going to pop out again.”
“Can you blame me? You are so wicked. Such a tease.”
“Wicked?” He looked affronted. “Me?”
“Yes.” She was breathless now, fired up at the thought of being alone with him. “Wicked. Devilish. Naughty.”
“It is your fault for being so beautiful.”
“I’m not beautiful. I’m ugly. I’m going to turn all the lights out in the room so you can’t see me.”
“Never,” he murmured. “I want to be able to watch you. I want to see myself sliding in and out of you; to watch your face when you come.”
Her eyes widened. He would only have to lean forwards a little and he’d be able to kiss her, but he didn’t; he just studied her, his eyes blazing with sudden heat, setting light to the fuse at the bottom of her spine that then fired all the way up her body to her brain.
“Okay,” she said, her voice sounding husky, even to herself. “Time to go.”
Chapter Sixteen
Rudi chuckled to himself as Eva hurriedly scooped up Oscar and pulled on his coat, then tugged on her own duffle coat and headed for the door. Her enthusiasm amused and pleased him—not that he wasn’t eager to get her alone himself. He’d dreamt all night about taking her in his arms, about the feel of her soft body against his, about losing himself in her. In his head she’d come to symbolise everything that was missing from his life—fun, sex, beauty and companionship. He’d thought he was happy immersing himself in work, that he didn’t need anyone in his life. But he’d been wrong.
But this was good, he thought as they headed out into the wintry village. Eva had taught him that maybe it was time for him to get back into the world, that he was ready to love again. Just like maybe he had taught her it was okay to move on. They’d both served a purpose—they were a convenience, a trigger to force each other onto a different track.
And yet that sounded like such a meagre description—as if he were trying to describe the beautiful scene before him by saying, “It’s white.” That could never take in all the colours, the smells, the expectation in the air.
“Thirty minutes until the Little Elves opens,” Eva said, checking her watch. “Damn it.”
He laughed. “Come on. We can build a snowman while we wait. But first, I have to pop back to the cabin for something. You get started—I will only be a moment.”
Eva and the kids headed for the field between the village and the forest and, still in the circle of the lanterns, they started the snowman.
Rudi walked back quickly to his cabin, carried out a few brief tasks, then returned to the field. He helped Oscar push the ball around to pick up the snow, while Eva and Isabel looked for stones and sticks for the final decoration. As he worked, he thought about what Eva had said, that Isabel knew what was going on. She certainly hadn’t said anything to him. Ultimately, he thought, it shouldn’t be any of his daughter’s business; he’d been faithful to Vanessa all the time they were together, and although he’d been divorced for over a year, there had been no line of girlfriends paraded in front of Isabel. But still, he understood that daughters are loyal to their mothers, and she might not understand why he desired companionship. He would talk to her about it later, he thought, when she got back from the club.
They finished the snowman and decorated it, and he had to admit it looked great when they finished, complete with stones for buttons on his coat, stick arms and tiny pebbles to form eyes and a happy smile.
And then it was time to take the kids to the Little Elves, so they walked them there and handed them over, and he was pleased to see Oscar run off even before they reached the door, clearly eager to join in with the game they were playing that involved jumping around the room in hoops pretending to be Santas dropping down chimneys, presumably with the intention of wearing the kids out before they sat them down to do more creative pursuits.
He and Eva left their names and numbers, checked that the kids were happy, then wandered out into the snowy vista.
Rudi held her hand as they walked back to their cabin. Everywhere he looked, families had smiling faces, and excitement and anticipation hung in the air along with a dusting of snow, lending it a subtle shimmer.
“Can you feel it?” Eva said, as if reading his thoughts. “Everyone’s so excited. I love Christmas Eve. And it’s lovely to be here and to be sharing the experience with everyone—kind of like spending it with a large family. I thought I’d feel lonely here, on my own with Oscar, but I don’t.”
“I am glad,” he said, meaning it. Like Eva, he’d thought anyone who wasn’t part of a standard two-point-four family would feel out place at Santa’s Secret Village, and hadn’t considered it could be more than a twee representation of the perfect Christmas, that it could be a haven for those who were lonely at that time of year. Although she’d had some criticisms, Eva had been full of praise for the site, and that had given him food for thought. He was going to have to think very carefully about his decision to sell.
But there would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he had other things on his mind.
They walked up the path to the cabins, and Eva followed him to his front door. He unlocked it and let her precede him, then followed her into the cabin.
“Ooh, it’s nice and warm in here,” she said, taking off her gloves and unbuttoning her coat. She wore a scarlet roll-neck sweater that offset her dark hair beautifully and made her look exotic, as well as Christmassy. “Is this why you came back—to get the place ready?” Her eyes twinkled; she was teasing him.
“Absolutely,” he said. “We cannot have you being cold.” He gestured at the sauna. “Another ten minutes, I think, and it will be ready.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. You weren’t joking?”
“Of course not.” He slipped off his own coat and walked up to her, and slid his arms around her waist. “I cannot wait to get you naked and shiny. If…you still wish to.”
He could see the rapid pulse in her neck, the way her pupils dilated. “Yes,” she whispered.
He stepped a little closer. She smelled of a deep, heady perfume that seemed to wind around his senses, ensnaring him, pulling him in. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against her neck and up to her ear, inhaling as he did so, enjoying her answering quiver. “You smell divine.”
She turned her head and brought her lips to his, and they kissed, slow and lingering. He put his arms around her, feeling a flood of contentment and pleasure at the embrace, at the anticipation of undressing her and making love to her, at the feel of her in his arms.
When he finally lifted his head, her eyes had taken on a glazed look, and her lips were swollen and bare. “Don’t stop,” she murmured.
He chuckled and released her. “First things first. I shall get us a drink—not alcohol, mind, we have to be careful to keep hydrated in the sauna.” He poured them both a tall glass of lemonade and added ice cubes and a slice of lime. “Drink up,” he said, leading her over to the sofa.
Eva sipped her drink and sat, and when he placed an arm around her shoulder, she curled up next to him. They looked out at the darkened field, watching the snow whirl briefly in a light breeze, and he thought he hadn’t been so contented, so happy, for years. He wanted her, he wanted to kiss her and touch her and slide inside her, and his heart pounded with his impatience to start the process, but equally he could have sat there all day, just enjoying her presence, just being with her.
He blinked. Just being with her.
“What?” she said, looking up at him.
He said nothing, his heart pounding in his ears. Her face, turned up to his, was pale with two spots of pink on her cheekbones. Her dark lashes framed her large brown eyes that looked up at him with affection, with trust. Her lips had parted slightly, and they looked soft, inviting.
He was being foolish, caught up in the excitement of Christmas and the atmosphere of the plac
e, because he’d only just met her, and he couldn’t possibly be feeling what he thought he was feeling. It was lust, that’s all; he’d been without sex for so long that his body heated up at the first sight of her, and his brain was interpreting that as something more.
Although he’d bought Vanessa flowers and jewellery when they were younger and had tried to arrange the odd trip away, theirs had never been a romantic relationship in spite of his early attempts to make it so. In a way, he’d thought himself beyond that now. He’d assumed falling in love was a notion that one grew out of, like believing in Santa or the tooth fairy; that the romance portrayed in movies and novels was as make-believe as any other form of magic.
But if so, why did his heart race every time he looked at Eva and imagined her in his arms? He wanted to kiss her. To make love to her. To spend days, weeks in bed exploring her, finding out what she liked, how she responded to his touch. To make her laugh, to see her eyes light up, to watch them close in the heat of passion. To just get to know her.
He wanted her forever.
But all he had was here and now. And his heart ached.
Because he didn’t know what to say, he took her drink and placed it on the table with his own. Pulled her up and onto his lap so she sat astride him. She gave a breathless laugh and settled herself, their bodies just brushing, and her dark hair fell forward like a sleek curtain to hide them from the outside world. It brushed his cheek, soft and silky, enveloping him in the heady scent again. He didn’t usually like strong perfume, thought it masked the natural scent of a woman, but even though her perfume was musky and exotic, it was subtle enough to wind around him gently, and once again his heart began to race.
Santa's Secret Page 12
