Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances

by Rosalind James

  He smiled down at Ellie again, and then out to where the twins sat with Alfie Hamlin. As always, Alfie seemed to have no boyfriend in tow.

  “Thank you to my pretty daughters for being such wonderful flower girls. You look beautiful, and you’ve carried out your duties superbly.” He blew them a kiss and they burst into giggles.

  “Thanks to all of you for your generous gifts and good wishes—and even more for your company here today.” He glanced around the ornate marquee again. “Better also add a big ‘thank you’ to the caterers and the florists for doing such a superb job, although at least you’ll get paid for your trouble.” Tipsy chuckles filled the air.

  “Does that cover everyone?”

  He paused.

  “And now, the fairy story. Once upon a time...” He smoothed his fingers over Ellie’s shoulder again, and paused for a few more seconds, waiting until the noise died right away.

  “Once upon a time, a young king went wandering, and he met a beautiful princess over the sea in another country. But the young king had to journey onward, and he never knew there was a little prince waiting to be born.”

  He rubbed his chin and hesitated for a moment. “In time the young king married and had two tiny princesses of his own.” Tony smiled out at his big-eyed daughters who were spellbound by the story. He held out a hand, and Caro and Ants came running to stand beside him, snuggling up to his long legs.

  “The years went by and the little princesses grew older, and the palace needed a teacher for them. Mistress Ginny chose the very best teacher she could find.”

  “Ellie,” Caro chimed in.

  “Ellie,” he confirmed. “Princess Ellie from all those years ago, by a wonderful chance. But Mistress Ginny didn’t know the name of the princess, and Princess Ellie didn’t know they were the king’s daughters, so when she arrived everyone was very surprised.”

  “I wasn’t,” Ants said.

  “Well, I was,” Tony continued. “And although Ellie was unexpected, there was an even bigger surprise to follow.” He held out his other hand to Callum, who shyly approached and stood with them. He touched Cal’s dark hair, and looked out over the sea of faces. “I’d like to introduce you all to my young prince. This is Callum Anthony—my son from all those years ago.”

  Some of the guests gasped. Others nodded, being already in the know.

  “Callum is bringing me very great joy.”

  Cal ducked his head, then stood tall again and braved the stares. Ginny and Rebecca started to clap, and soon applause and whistling filled the whole marquee.

  Tony motioned for silence again so he could say, “And they all lived—”

  He looked down at his daughters.

  They each dragged in a deep theatrical breath. “Happily ever after,” they chorused.

  The band produced a triumphant drum roll and fanfare.

  Tony turned and drew Ellie’s chair out so she could stand. He wrapped her fingers in his and led her onto the dance floor.

  “Dance with me forever, my beautiful wife,” he invited, folding her into his arms.

  THE END

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  The Heartlands Series -

  ***

  Book One – Melting His Heart

  Kate Pleasance is on her best behavior. Matthew McLeod is certainly not. She really needs the job he's interviewing her for. He totally wants the unexpected candidate in his bed. But is Kate spying for her famous father? Should Matthew trust her in the least? Join them in the beautiful New Zealand alpine resort of Queenstown, famous for its daredevil extreme sports. Will Kate dare? And is Matthew the devil he seems to be?

  WARNING: Contains one tall tortured man who's super-talented in bedrooms and boardrooms.

  Excerpt

  Kate Pleasance scrolled through the online job ads for the morning, and stopped when SUPERWOMAN WANTED jumped out at her. Could she be a superwoman? She huffed out a sigh. She’d been pretty damn super for the last three months!

  With nothing to lose, she emailed her CV and a slightly cheeky letter. She was exactly ready for a different life—away from the sad memories of her mother, and far away from all the people and places she’d known when she was Simon’s partner. This definitely sounded different—something she could get her teeth into and distract herself with—and in New Zealand’s most famous alpine resort, too.

  As she alighted from the commuter jet a bare week later, the biting June air seeped through her cream Merino suit jacket, through her camisole, into her very skin. From the plane, Queenstown had looked deceptively summery—blue sky from edge to edge—even though there was an icing-sugar dusting of snow on the surrounding mountains. She’d left sixteen degrees at home, way to the north in Auckland. Here it was a crisp and shimmering eight.

  She scanned the arrivals lounge where other passengers were greeting friends and relatives. Charlotte had said she’d be there to meet Kate, but what did Charlotte look like?

  Not like the elderly lady in the blue hat. It hadn’t been a quavery old voice on the phone.

  Hopefully not like the harassed-looking woman with the screaming child— although she certainly seemed in need of a helpful companion.

  And certainly not like the tall dark man with his head down, studying something. They were the only people who’d not claimed their passengers yet. Perhaps Charlotte was still finding somewhere to park her car? Kate strode resolutely on.

  ~♥~

  Matthew compressed his lips and lifted his eyes from the photograph clipped to the CV. That had to be the Pleasance girl in the cream suit. The photo showed a pale young woman with her dark hair pulled back and pinned up. She stared primly into the camera lens—trying to look businesslike, he supposed. Trying to look innocuous enough to gain access to his home where she could spy for her ruthless father, more like!

  He saw now that she was unusually tall, moved with easy grace, and had hair right out of a shampoo ad—thick, glossy, and flowing down past her shoulders today. His fingers twitched at its imagined softness and warmth. Scheming bitch! The severe CV photo certainly didn’t do justice to candidate number three. For the interview, she was apparently turning on all her feminine wiles in an effort to put him and Lottie off their guard.

  ~♥~

  Book Two – Christmas Holiday Heart – Tony and Ellie’s story.

  ~♥~

  Book Three – Cowboy Wants Her Heart

  Exiled from his family for half his life, hard-living cowboy Rory Morrissey finally quits Texas and embarks on a desperate and delicate mission: to return to New Zealand, convince shy Kiwi heiress Alfrieda Hamlin to marry him, and earn a fresh start, respectability, and one hell of a farm.

  Alfie might be shy but she’s no pushover. When she learns about the succession deal being hatched between her autocratic grandfather and the handsome Texan stud, she rebels. There’s no way she’ll stand by and have her expected inheritance and freedom stolen away, so with only one month to outwit the scheming duo, she throws caution to the wind and snuggles up to the man she’s been ordered to marry. After all, she needs to know her enemy if she expects to beat him at his own game.

  WARNING: Contains one hunky cowboy determined to ride down his heiress, hog-tie her, and bundle her into his bed.

  Excerpt

  Rory Morrissey soared above the property like a hawk, inspecting Glenleighton with eyes as keen as lasers. He leaned further forward in the cockpit and his heart rate kicked up another notch with pure exhilaration. The noise of the Cessna’s engine faded to nothing.

  Old Alfred Hamlin’s photographs hadn’t done it justice. In the early evening light the estate seemed wrapped in magic—magic and money. Emerald lawns and undulating gardens surrounded the huge old timber house. Prime grazing land stretched as far as he could see on either side, the grass bleached gold in the height of summer. Plantations and native forest
climbed the higher hills. And the Pacific Ocean tossed and twinkled, dead ahead.

  He’d been away from New Zealand for sixteen long years. Finally he’d come home.

  A fierce hunger to be master of Glenleighton settled deep in his gut, gnawing and churning, eating like acid.

  He had to have it. It would go a long way toward recompensing him for his banishment and the subsequent loss of his rightful inheritance.

  But one tiny prickle of unease danced down his spine. There’d been no photo of the granddaughter. How intolerable would she be?

  ~♥~

  Alfie Hamlin rubbed her temples as she heard the small plane approach, then veer away, then return again. It wasn’t Tony Robinson’s helicopter. And wouldn’t be an aerial top-dressing contractor at this time of day.

  Could it be their dinner guest checking the place over? Her unease grew stronger. Something was up. Something bad. She could feel it as clearly as she could see her own reflection in the mirror.

  She’d known about Rory Morrissey for several years. Her grandfather had made sure of that with occasional gruff references to his abilities. Now Rory had returned from Texas, and been invited to dinner. Mrs Addison, the housekeeper, had spent the day on a short fuse. Why? It made sense if they were having a dinner party, but he was the only guest. The edgy feeling tickling along Alfie’s nerves grew ever stronger.

  Earlier, when she’d collected her grandfather’s afternoon tea cup and saucer from his study, Alfie had been on the very point of daring to ask what was behind the invitation. But at that instant he’d stopped searching through the big bookcase full of farming magazines and skewered her with one of his disparaging glares.

  “Get out of those bloody jeans for once and make yourself look like a woman tonight,” he’d demanded before he hustled her away and closed the door in her astounded face.

  What had she done to deserve that? He’d never objected to her wearing jeans while she slogged around the farm for him.

  Now she regarded herself doubtfully in the long mirror of her childhood bedroom and pulled a ferocious face.

  Would Grandpa consider a blue denim skirt and a new black polo shirt womanly enough for the unknown Rory? Probably not.

  Read more about 'Christmas Holiday Hearts' and see where to buy it HERE

  Romances that sizzle with love, life and laughter.

  http://www.krispearson.com/

  Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand

  Rosalind James

  Copyright © 2012 by Rosalind James

  http://www.rosalindjames.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  A New Zealand glossary appears at the end of this book.

  Prologue

  Well, that had been a waste of an hour.

  Jenna switched her car off in the underground garage, then reached into the back seat to pull out the large messenger bag holding her student files. If she’d seen Richard’s text before setting out, she’d have realized the meeting had been canceled and could have saved herself the trip. Oh, well. It was still only seven forty-five. Plenty of time to bake some cookies to take into the teachers’ lounge tomorrow.

  By the time she entered the black-and-white-tiled foyer of the modern flat overlooking Wellington Harbour, she had added a bread pudding to the list. That would give her a jump on tomorrow night’s dinner. Jeremy wouldn’t eat it, of course. He was watching his diet more carefully than ever these days, and spending more time in the gym, too. But it was one of her own favorites. And it was just bread, eggs, and milk, right? That was healthy, surely.

  “I’m home!” she called. That was odd. Jeremy hadn’t said he was going out. She dumped her purse and bag and made her way to the back of the flat. Maybe he’d gone to bed early. He’d seemed a little quiet earlier that evening, and she’d wondered if he were under the weather.

  She got as far as the bedroom doorway. And froze. She saw the two figures on the bed, but her mind refused to acknowledge the truth of the scene unfolding so clearly before her. She stood rigid, mouth half-open in shock. Until Jeremy looked up and froze himself.

  “Jenna. What … why are you home?” He scrambled to his feet, grabbed a shirt from the floor and held it pathetically, ridiculously, in front of himself.

  Jenna held her hands out in front of her, backed away. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just … I’ll … I’m going.”

  She ran down the hall, back to the foyer. Grabbed up her bags again, looked around wildly for her keys. Why weren’t they on the hook? She needed her keys. She needed to leave.

  Jeremy hurried down the hall towards her. He’d managed to pull his pants on, was struggling to zip them as he ran. “Wait, Jenna. I can explain. Hang on.”

  Her keys were in her hand, she realized through her fog of panic. Purse. Bag. Keys. Out the door. She stood in the passage, punching the button for the lift. Jeremy was there with her now, still barechested, reaching for her arm.

  “Don’t leave. We need to talk about this. Jenna, come on. You must have known.”

  She stared at him. “No. No.”

  Finally, blessedly, the ding that announced the arriving lift. And the brushed steel doors sliding smoothly open, letting her in. Letting her escape.

  The Dog Lover

  Twenty months later

  “I like your dog.”

  Jenna looked down at the little boy, short blond hair rising in a comical double cowlick, blue eyes bright behind steel-framed glasses, who had come up to join her. “He’s nice, isn’t he?” she agreed. “Do you want to throw the ball for him?”

  “Yeh,” he breathed. “Will he chase it?”

  “That’s his very favorite thing,” she assured him. “Oscar! Come!” The Golden Retriever bounded over from where he’d been distracted by a friendly Labrador.

  “Sit,” she told Oscar firmly, before handing the ball to the boy. “Here you go. It’s a little slobbery. But if you don’t mind that, give it a throw.”

  The boy laughed with delight as the dog twisted to catch the ball in mid-air, then bounded back with it, dropping it at his feet.

  “Throw it again, if you like,” Jenna urged. “He’ll do it over and over. He loves it.”

  “That’s because he’s a retriever,” the boy told her knowledgeably as he gave the ball another awkward toss. “That’s his job.”

  “You’re right. You know about dogs, huh? Do you have one yourself?”

  “Nah,” he said sadly. “Dad says Nyree has enough to do. And he says I’m not old enough to be responsible. I am, though. I’d be very responsible.”

  “So you’re just here looking at the dogs today?”

  He nodded, threw the ball again for an eager Oscar. “Nyree said a few minutes.”

  He looked up as a comfortably built Maori woman approached, together with a girl who looked to be seven or eight. “Can I stay a bit longer?” he pleaded. “I’m throwing the ball. And Oscar likes it. He wants me to throw it.”

  “Time to go,” the woman said. “Sophie’s not as keen on watching the dogs as you are. Not fair to keep her hanging about any longer. Besides, you want to climb to the top, don’t you?”

  “Yeh, I s’pose,” he said reluctantly.

  “Hi.” Jenna put her hand out to the other woman. “I’m Jenna McKnight. You must be Nyree.”

  The older woman smiled. “Nyree Akara. Harry and Sophie’s nanny.”

  “I’m guessing you’re not Harry,” Jenna said to the little girl, her brown hair touching her shoulders, large brown eyes serious in her heart-shaped face. “So that leaves Sophie.”

  “Hello,” Sophie said, shaking Jenna’s hand politely in her turn. “Harry’s my brother.”

  “The dog lover. Oscar and I need to go too. We
’ll walk out with you.”

  She attached Oscar’s lead and accompanied the others out of the fenced area. “He isn’t actually my dog either,” she told them. “I’m just like you, Harry. I’d love to have a dog, but I can’t manage one right now. Your dad’s right, it’s a big responsibility. So I borrowed a friend’s today. Thanks for helping me give him some exercise.”

  She smiled at the group and said her goodbyes, then began to jog down the road. It was a four-kilometer run back to Natalie’s flat, and she’d told Nat’s neighbor Eileen that she’d have Oscar back by five.

  * * *

  “I’ve been thinking,” Jenna said that evening over the quick dinner she’d prepared for her friend. “I was planning to look for another café job. But I don’t know. I really miss working with kids.”

  “Hard to find a post in the middle of the school year,” Natalie pointed out.

  “I know. But I might at least check out possibilities in Auckland for next year. And maybe look into substitute positions for now, because I do like it here.”

  “What I told you,” Natalie agreed. “Much warmer than Wellington. Less windy, too. You need a change anyway. More of a change. You’ve already done the physical bit. I was gobsmacked when I first saw you. I’d hardly have known you.”

  Jenna shrugged. “The Divorce Diet. That’s what they call it. A decidedly mixed blessing.”

  “It wasn’t just the dieting, though,” Natalie said. “It was more the running, I’m thinking. What made you start with that? Last thing I would’ve expected from you.”

  “It was after you moved up here,” Jenna explained. “After the separation. It wasn’t part of any grand life plan. More running away, really. Literally. I’d leave school and I’d think, go home and sit watching telly with my flatmate, or get out? And I had to get out. The worse my life looked, the more I ran. And the more I ran, the more I liked it. It made it easier to eat better. And then I started to look different, and …” She shrugged. “It was like there was this one thing that was actually improving. My life was a mess, but hey, something was working.”