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

by Rosalind James

  “I wasn’t brave enough to do the right thing,” she whispered.

  Drew pulled back and stared at her with wide eyes. “How did you get brave enough?”

  “You, Drew. You made me brave enough to run away, so your Daddy wouldn’t hurt us again.”

  Drew’s smile was like sunshine. He smeared his grubby hands across her cheeks, wiping off the tears. Then his small eyebrows drew together. “Did Nate hurt you? Is that why he went away?”

  For a moment, Lauren couldn’t think of what to say. She hadn’t considered that a four-year-old could come to these sorts of conclusions.

  “No, my darling. Nate would never hurt either of us. He was one of the good guys.”

  The enormity of what she’d lost smashed into her soul with the devastation of a train wreck. Again. God, she loved him with a fierceness that turned her insides to a pulpy mush. But it hadn’t been enough, and she had to accept it. Nate had gone, and the photos were his way of saying goodbye.

  She lowered Drew to the ground when he wriggled. “Run along and play with Uncle Todd; I’ll be finished in a little while.”

  Drew tugged on the pocket of her apron. “I hope Nate comes back soon, Mummy. I want him to come home.” Then he skipped outside, bopping along to some internal soundtrack that convinced him all would be well in his world.

  The phone on the counter tempted her to punch in Nate’s number, as it did at least thirty times a day. But she refused to be weak. She couldn’t continue pining for a man who didn’t love her in return. Not if she ever wanted to completely shed the dead skin of Alexandra Knight and Sexy Lexy. She would fight for her identity, fight for a new life in Bounty Bay for her and Drew.

  Taylors never give up the fight.

  ***

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Savannah’s voice slammed down the phone line hard enough to leave a bruise. “What’re you going to do about it?”

  Nate grunted into the handset and propped his bare heels on the coffee table, knocking off a stack of old pizza boxes and aluminum cans. He pawed at the couch beside him and found the remote. The screen buzzed to life, casting shifting flashes of light around his apartment. God, how pathetic was he, sitting alone in the dark?

  “Don’t make me come over again, do you hear me? Traffic’s a nightmare.”

  “How’s the single life treating you?”

  “And don’t change the subject.”

  Damn. “I’m not doing anything about it. I didn’t sell the property to Martin Davis, so she and her kid won’t have to deal with the dreaded paparazzi showing up on her doorstep—I’ve done enough.”

  “You didn’t sell to Davis because it would mean completely cutting your ties with Lauren.” Smugness oozed through the phone.

  How the hell did she figure that out? “Bite me, Sav.”

  Savannah chuckled. “I got the photos you sent. It’s the most gorgeous hidey-hole I’ve ever seen.” Her tone dropped and went syrupy. “If a certain cousin of mine lived close by, say with a pretty mechanic and her little boy, I might be tempted to take it off your hands.”

  He bolted upright, his feet smacking the floor. “You’d what?”

  “You heard me. A girl needs a bolt-hole in the bush to hide from the world every now and again.”

  “You love the world. You’d go crazy up there by yourself in two days.”

  “Which is why I could visit my dear cousin and his lady next door, if he ever pulls his head out of his bum and gets her back.”

  “I don’t need to get her back. I walked away from her.”

  She made a clicking noise with her tongue, and he could all but see her roll her eyes. “And look how well it’s working out for you. You’re miserable.”

  “I am not miserable. I’m right where I want to be.” He shut his eyes, refusing to glance around his darkened living room at the takeout bags and clothes strewn across the floor because he couldn’t be bothered picking them up.

  “Are you?” Savannah’s voice was oddly gentle. “Nate, contrary to what your pal Steve always told you, contrary to what you keep telling yourself, you aren’t meant to be alone.”

  Nate folded in half, his forehead dropping onto his palm. Alone. Without Lauren by his side. Without Drew bouncing on his shoulders. Without the people who’d become his family.

  Hell. He even missed the damn dog.

  Don’t choose my life, boy. He shook his head, trying to dislodge Steve’s voice, but the memory of those last harrowing days was too strong. Steve’s eyes rimmed red, the glimmer of life oozing away like air seeping from a punctured tire, as he shrank into the hospital bed. Don’t repeat my mistakes. Don’t die alone with only the pity of an old friend to see you through to the other side.

  “She’s getting on with her life without me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I caved and called her sister-in-law last week. Hell, she’s gone from social recluse to a social butterfly. Kathy says she’s knee deep into organizing Drew’s preschool carnival.”

  “And that’s a bad thing…?” Savannah’s voice trailed off.

  “No. It’s a great thing. She’s finally stopped hiding in the shadows.”

  “Shadows, huh? I could bet you a thousand bucks you’re sitting there in the dark, moping.”

  What was she, psychic? He stood, walked to the wall and slapped the switch. Harsh, white light splashed across the wreckage of his living room onto the single photo he’d kept from the stack he’d sent Lauren. Onto Drew’s Superman picture stuffed into his laptop bag. Onto the cross-stitched sampler poking out from under a jumble of paperwork. God, what a reality check. “I don’t mope.”

  “Cousin, you’re a moron. Now answer my first question—do you love Lauren?”

  Nate slumped against the wall, cradling the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

  “And she loves you?”

  He closed his eyes. Saw her curled in his arms, smiling up at him, heart in her eyes. The look on her face before he walked away that last time. “I think so.”

  “Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her and her little boy?”

  Warmth prickled up his spine, curled around his heart. “Yes. But what is this, twenty questions?”

  “I’ve just one more.” Her voice turned snippy. “Have you told her this?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m a moron.” He shoved his hand into his hair and grimaced; he hadn’t combed it in days. “But I’m a moron with a five hour drive ahead of him in the morning, so I’d better go to bed.”

  Savannah’s smoky laugh rolled down the line. “With any luck, you won’t be sleeping alone tomorrow night.”

  Nate disconnected the call with his cousin and walked to his coffee table. He picked up the photograph he’d taken of Lauren and her chainsaw. He’d often thought of Lauren’s home as a self-imposed prison that kept her safe and separate from everyone. Ironic that the whole time, he was the one locked up and isolated, because he hadn’t understood home wasn’t a place, it was a person. Moron was too kind a description.

  “I never want to sleep alone again,” he said and tossed the photograph back onto the coffee table.

  Home is where the heart is.

  And his heart had found its home with Lauren.

  ***

  Lauren gunned the Cadillac as it hit the open road, and Lizzie, sitting beside her, threw back her head with a whoop.

  “Your best idea, ever,” Lizzie yelled, hair whipping around her face.

  Lauren grinned as they roared back to Drew’s preschool, where her next paying customer would contribute ten dollars to the carnival for a ride in her dad’s convertible.

  “We’re like Thelma and Louise!” Lizzie threw her hands up into the slipstream, slanting over a glance. “Except prettier and in your case, blonder.”

  “Angelique did a good job.” Lauren tossed her newly dyed-back-to-original blonde hair over her shoulder, slowed and signaled to turn through the wide gates onto the field
where the carnival was held. “It’s the new me.”

  Lizzie reached across and squeezed Lauren’s knee. “I told you you’d be Bounty Bay’s five-minute wonder, and then life would get back to normal.”

  “Guess I was worried about nothing.” She peeled her lips up into another smile, as painted on as a clown’s. Would life ever feel “normal” again? She’d changed—blossomed, even, though the word made her cringe—since she’d met Nate. How could life without him be normal?

  A small crowd gathered by a row of safety cones. Stretched between two garden stakes was a hand-painted sign: $10 for 10-minute ride. Keeping an eye out for any sugar-drunk kids who might decide to charge across the grass, Lauren slowed the Caddy to a crawl and parked at the head of the line.

  “Nobody seems at all interested in the new me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

  Lizzie’s tone prickled Lauren’s nape and she glanced up at the other woman’s dimple-creased grin. “Huh?”

  “There’s someone who’s very interested in you.”

  Lizzie pushed herself back, flush against the caddy’s seat, so Lauren had a direct view of the man at the front of the line.

  A man with piercing green eyes, his gaze trained on her face like a laser.

  She could only stare, her throat locked tight, her heart slamming an erratic tattoo against her ribs.

  Nate was here. Nate was in Bounty Bay.

  Lizzie cranked open the door and hopped out.

  Nate leaned down to rest a forearm on the corner of the car’s windshield. “That’s some car you’ve got, Ms. Taylor.”

  “Nothing beats a ’67 Cadillac DeVille in Flamenco Red.” She slid her arm along the back of the bench seat and hoped the V8 engine’s grumble would cover the tremor in her voice. “They knew how to make cars in the sixties.”

  “So they did. And it’s good to see it’s no longer shrink-wrapped in protective plastic and hidden away.”

  She swallowed, desperate to wet her dust-dry throat. “A life is for living and a car is for driving.”

  He reached one long-fingered hand into the pocket of his jeans and drew out a crumpled bank note. “Take me for a drive?”

  Her eyes flew open—the note was red. “For a hundred dollars?”

  “A long, long drive.”

  His voice rolled over her skin like sun-warmed silk, sending delicious shivers skittering up and down her body.

  “I don’t know if I can. I’m shaking too much.” Shaking in a good way, because surely, surely him being here meant something?

  With a chuckle, Nate slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. “Didn’t you once say you could outdrive me on any road?”

  She withdrew her arm from the back of the seat and slotted the Caddy’s column shift into drive. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  They rolled slowly across the field and out of the gate. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

  “Where do teenagers go around here to make out?”

  His voice was cool, but she caught a quick flash of humor as his gaze skimmed over her.

  “You want to make out?” Her heartbeat skipped, and she pressed her thighs together.

  “I want privacy. Somewhere we can talk.”

  No making out then. She was getting ahead of herself.

  Signaling left, Lauren turned onto the road leading to the beach. “I know a spot.”

  Wind whistled past the windshield as she guided the Caddy around the sharp curves toward Bounty Bay’s beach. Instead of taking the ramp to the sand, she chose a side road that led to a small parking area overlooking the endless blue curve of ocean. Once she’d parked the car and killed the engine, they sat in silence, the rhythmic hiss of breakers pounding up the beach below the only sound.

  “I like your hair,” he said. “It suits you.”

  “Thanks.” She drummed her fingers on the Caddy’s steering wheel.

  Then she swiveled on the bench seat, soaking up every detail of the line of his shoulders beneath a blue-checked shirt and the length of his legs in worn jeans. God, he stole the breath from her lungs, the thoughts from her head. Everything she wanted to say to him scattered in the whirlwind of love sweeping through her.

  Kia kaha, Lauren. You can do this. You can be strong enough. “Aren’t you meant to have flown out by now?”

  He continued to stare out the windshield, the scent of his warm skin wrapping around her like a feather-soft blanket. Then clearing his throat, he turned toward her.

  “Change of plans.”

  “Oh.” Her gaze lowered to the rapid movement of his Adam’s apple behind his unbuttoned collar. Her closeness affected him. Something of a boost to her dwindling confidence.

  He shifted closer on the bench seat. “My plans had to change because I didn’t take the deal with Martin Davis.” One of his hands closed over hers and squeezed.

  Nate didn’t take the deal? He didn’t look upset, so maybe he’d changed his mind about selling Mac’s place. Maybe he intended to be some part of their lives, after all.

  “I’ve sold it to someone else.”

  His statement clanged discordantly around her head. The sliver of hope snuffed out. She tried to tug her fingers from under his hand, but he tightened his grip.

  “And my dreams have changed a little—hell, a lot—in the last few weeks.”

  “I see.”

  Throwing herself into the ocean seemed a fine idea about now. Beneath the waves, she could pretend the man she loved hadn’t driven all the way up here just to blow her off a second time.

  His other hand stroked her hair, and before she could utter a wounded snarl and shove his fingers away, he spoke. “Yep, Savannah’s gonna love Mac’s place.”

  She jerked, her muscles icing to robotic stiffness. “Savannah? Your cousin Savannah?”

  “The one and only.”

  Suddenly glad she’d vetoed the fairy floss Drew wanted to share earlier, Lauren decided her churning stomach agreed with what her mind suspected. He wasn’t here for her. He’d come as a courtesy call to tell her about her new neighbor.

  But damn if he’d see her cry.

  Heat flared across her cheekbones, and she lifted her chin, armed with an ex-model’s best defense—the ability to smile for the camera while her life tore to ribbons. “I guess that’d still work for you. You’ll have the money to travel now.”

  He shook his head and traced the line of her cheekbone with his finger. “Lauren, that’s not what this is about.”

  “So what is it about?”

  His gaze bored into her, making her ache for him all over again.

  “I want you to understand. Before Steve died, he said something to me I chose to ignore for far too long. He told me not to be like him, to find a woman to love and to make a home with her. Steve said in dying, he’d learned everything about living.” His hand slid around to cradle her jaw. “I realized I’m not like Steve. I’ve found the woman I’ll love for the rest of my life. I’ve found the boy I want to raise as my own son. I’ve found the family and home I’ve always wanted but been too proud to admit I need.”

  “Did you—?” Her blood thrumming so fast it was a small miracle her veins and arteries didn’t spontaneously explode, Lauren blinked repeatedly. “Did you just say you love me?”

  Moving even closer on the bench seat, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Yeah, for quite a while now. I think seeing you handling that chainsaw did it for me.” He chuckled then huffed out a sigh. “I love you, Lauren Taylor. But I know I’ve been a complete idiot.”

  “You have.” She couldn’t prevent the quaver in her voice as she cupped his jaw, the sweet, sweet feel of his raspy stubble bringing tears to her eyes.

  “Will you give me another chance?”

  She could turn Nate down and refuse to take the risk of trusting him…or she could quit hiding and let her heart be exposed. “Yes. Because I love you, too, and we all deserve a second chance to be happy.”

  He let go of her h
and and tugged her forward. She fell against him and grabbed his arms for balance, but he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her until her toes curled.

  “You love me?” he said, chest heaving.

  She gripped handfuls of his shirt so tightly the stitching on his shirt pocket tore. “So, so much.”

  He tilted his head and delivered a kiss that melted her into a quivering puddle. She came back down to earth with a bump as the kiss ended, and she realized there were words left unspoken.

  “Nate, I know you’re not the settling down type—”

  “About that.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Remember I said I had some new dreams?”

  She nodded, and his lips curved into a wide smile.

  “Well, the new dream involves a coffee-table book but with a different theme.” He gently rubbed her arms. “The beauty of Bounty Bay. Whānau. What makes us unique, what brings us together, what it means to be part of a family.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” More than wonderful, an idea so beautiful that only a photograph of her soul could capture what words couldn’t. “But you love the rush of photojournalism, Nate—I saw your face at the Waitangi protest.”

  “Yeah, I do. And I can still freelance with the odd local or short-term assignment. But no more warzones, no more months away. Not when I’ve found something so much better.” Nate nuzzled the soft spot below her ear. “It’s you I want to hold every night until you fall asleep. It’s you I want to be tangled up with every morning.”

  Determined not let the weepy-female side of her take over, Lauren hooked her arms around his neck. “You’re the best cure for insomnia.”

  Nate laughed, his chest shaking and his eyes crinkling. “Well, thanks, I think. And by the way? I’ve left a message with a real estate agent to put my apartment on the market.”

  Bubbles of joy fizzed in her chest. “You’re going to move up here?”

  “Todd’s promised to rent me a patch of his lawn to pitch a tent on in case you take some convincing to let me back in your life.”

  She showed him her palms. “I’m convinced. Besides, I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to be Todd’s tenant. He’ll fleece you dry and talk your ear off.”