Their One-Night Christmas Gift

‘Something like that. A one-time offer never to be repeated or spoken of again.’

‘Deal.’ His voice was a growl as he wound his arm around her waist, pulled her tight to his body and covered her lips with his.

Just like that the touch paper was lit, their passion reignited in an instant. The kiss so urgent and demanding it took her breath away. She didn’t remember Charles being quite so...masterful. Perhaps it was that knowledge they were being reckless that added an extra frisson to their passion. This was definitely the last time they’d be together and would be a sweeter memory, she hoped, to hold onto than the last one.

He backed her against the wall of the lift, his mouth, his tongue never leaving hers. Arousal swept through her, showing no mercy or regard for their location or history. Harriet felt along the wall for the control panel and hit the button for the fourth floor. Charles paused their amorous reunion to hit the one for the second floor instead.

‘My room’s closer,’ he whispered against her neck, and she felt the effect of his warm breath on her skin all the way down to her toes.

The thing about being her past lover was that he remembered exactly where to strike to make her weak at the knees. He knew all her sensitive spots and she shivered with anticipation at the thought of him using that advantage. Two could play that game and it wasn’t long before they were both gasping with pleasure as they began to reacquaint themselves with each other. If either of them had booked the penthouse suite she doubted whether they would’ve made it out of here without consummating their renewed acquaintance.

The doors opened, and they were soon fumbling their way down the corridor, steadfastly locked in their passionate embrace. Charles smiled against her lips as he tried to unlock the room door behind her. They were giggling young lovers again, driven by their hormones and lust, and Harriet was ignoring her adult brain telling her otherwise.

‘Have you got any protection?’ As they fell through the door her mind was racing ahead. She didn’t want to interrupt a crucial moment to track down some condoms in case it gave either of them time to think about what they were doing and change their mind.

‘Somewhere.’

He backed her over to the large bed, raining kisses along her neck and collarbone until she fell onto the mattress in a puddle of ecstasy. With one hand he fished in his pocket for his wallet and produced a foil packet. Harriet was glad he didn’t have a drawer full of condoms by the bed stocked up for a weekend of bedroom antics with faceless women. A hook-up had come as much of a surprise to him as it had to her but now it was happening she was glad one of them had come prepared.

She helped him shed his jacket and set to work unbuttoning his shirt, longing for the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. Finding that patch of hair on his chest reminded her how familiar his body was to her but, oh, how she wanted to get to know it intimately again. Her hands at his fly, she began to undo his trousers.

‘Harriet? I want to make this last,’ he gasped as she pulled him free from the constraints of his clothes.

‘I want you. Now,’ she demanded. This had to be on her terms, so she remained in control. The only way she could justify bedding her ex was to treat him as casually as he had her. She had needs and though she’d taken lovers since Charles, only he could give her what she truly wanted.

Charles didn’t protest. Instead, he slid his hand beneath her dress and tugged her underwear away. With their clothes half on, half off, and Harriet’s dress hitched up around her waist, she waited with bated breath for him to sheath himself. There was something daring and incredibly sexy about the spontaneity of it all. She was risking everything she had by bedding him one more time when he’d had the power in the past to topple her world around her.

‘I guess we do have all night to get to know each other again.’ Charles smiled at her in the darkness and Harriet arched to meet him at their most sensitive parts. She wanted their bodies to do all the talking tonight. That way there could be no confusion about what she expected from him. This was only about sex. An area she knew he excelled in.

They clung to one another, perspiration settling on their skins as they raced towards that moment of utter bliss they knew they could find with each other. Harriet was already on her way to hitting that peak as though she’d been waiting for twelve long years to do this with him again. Those years apart certainly hadn’t diminished their appetites for one another, not on her part at least. No other man had come close to satisfying her the way Charles had. Perhaps because she’d never allowed herself to get as emotionally involved with a man as she couldn’t bear the pain that came with it, or perhaps because he’d been the best lover she’d ever had.

He knew exactly where to touch her to drive her crazy and exactly where she needed him to be. Charles too seemed to be making up for lost time, lust setting the heady rhythm of his every stroke inside her. It was as out of control as she’d ever seen him, or indeed had ever felt herself.

When her orgasm came it hit fast and hard, and as Charles’s cries echoed hers she knew she never wanted this night to end. There was no more living in the past when the present was so much more enjoyable.

CHAPTER TWO

Two months later

EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE on this road trip had been telling Harriet to have a merry Christmas. From the radio presenters accompanying her on this journey, to the few strangers she’d encountered along the way, to the very weather, they’d been insisting she should be enjoying Christmas Day.

There was a fat chance of that happening, thanks to Charles, and now she was about to ruin his day too. She was happy to do this alone and more than capable. The only reason she was coming all this way was to give him the chance to step up to his obligations this time instead of walking away. He could tell her face to face if he didn’t want any part of this, then they wouldn’t have to see each other ever again.

The drive to Scotland had been long but uneventful thanks to the lull in traffic. Most people had chosen to stay at home celebrating with family and loved ones. How ironic when she had neither, but next year things would be different. Her whole life was about to change if she didn’t take steps to secure the one she already had.

The closer she got to the Ross-Wylde family estate, the harder and faster her heart pounded and her stomach churned. Both from the conversation she had to have with Charles, and the last one they’d had at Heatherglen. She’d never imagined returning to the very place where she’d left her heart.

Road signs directed her towards the clinic that had essentially stolen Charles from her. Where he’d committed to setting up a life as the director there and Laird of the estate, instead of as her husband.

The drive up through the hills to her destination was as familiar to her as the last time she’d seen it, albeit through tear-filled eyes back then. It was dark now, the winter night so all-consuming it had swallowed up the colourful patchwork of countryside she knew surrounded her. All that remained were the inky shadows of the trees towering on either side of the winding road leading to Charles’s ancestral home.

Buildings new and old appeared in view but her focus was entirely on the castle itself. With lights blazing in every window and the porch decorated with Christmas wreaths and garlands, it was a welcoming sight. An invitation to visitors that at least one of the residents might come to regret. She hadn’t called or texted ahead so she had the element of surprise and could gauge Charles’s true reaction to her news.

Harriet parked her car behind the others, which all had a dusting of snow like icing sugar on a sponge cake, and it was obvious no one had left the premises today. They’d been too busy having a good time, to judge by the sounds of music and laughter filtering through the crisp night air as she made her way to the entrance. There was a twinge of jealousy thinking of him celebrating the festive season here with family when she had no one. She rested her hand on her belly—flat for now. In another few months it would be a different story.

This wasn’t about forcing him back into her life. She’d managed quite well without him these past years and she wasn’t expecting anything from him now. Harriet wasn’t that naïve. A baby hadn’t been part of the deal, but she wanted to do the right thing by informing him of the pregnancy at least. With his track record she didn’t believe he’d want to be involved and so she would let him know she didn’t need anything from him. Her plan was simply to tell him and walk away, leaving them both with a clear conscience over the matter.

Before she could make her way up the stone steps, a door further along the castle burst open and all the warmth and excitement from inside spilled out.

‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise there was anyone out here. Are you here for the clinic?’ The petite, smiling blonde looked familiar.

‘Esme? Is that you?’ She’d only been a teenager when Harriet had last seen her, but there was no doubt that was who she was looking at. It was those dazzling blue eyes, so much like her brother’s, that gave away her identity.

‘Yes? Can I help you?’ There was no sign of recognition from the woman who’d almost been her sister-in-law but for all Harriet knew Charles could’ve had a procession of fiancées over the years. She couldn’t be certain Esme would even remember her if she introduced herself.

‘Esme, will you close the door, please? You’re letting the cold in.’ Charles’s irritated voice sounded from inside right before he marched out to see what the commotion was on the doorstep.

It was then Harriet wondered what on earth she’d been thinking by turning up here tonight instead of waiting to speak to him on his own. In truth she hadn’t been thinking clearly at all the second she’d seen the positive pregnancy test in her hand. She’d simply packed a bag and headed off to Scotland rather than spend the day considering what the consequences of their night of passion meant for her.

‘Harriet?’ He peered out into the darkness, glass of whisky in hand.

‘Sorry. I didn’t realise you’d have company.’ She was prepared to walk away from the heated conversation she’d imagined having inside rather than discuss it in front of an audience.

‘Harriet? Harriet Bell?’ Esme let out a squeal and launched herself at Harriet, hugging her so tight she could no longer feel the cold, or much else.

‘Esme, put her down.’ Despite their more mature years, big brother Charles still spoke to her the way all boys did to their irritating little sisters. And, as all little sisters tended to do, Esme ignored him completely.

‘What on earth are you doing here? It’s been, what, ten years?’ She had her arm around Harriet’s shoulders now, steering her past the main entrance to the house to a side door.

‘Twelve, but who’s counting?’ She managed to dodge answering the question when it was apparent Charles hadn’t shared any details of even having met her at the convention. There should have been no reason for him to do so when they’d agreed to forget it had ever happened. Something they could no longer afford to do.

‘It’s good to see you.’ Charles kissed her chastely on the cheek as she entered his ancestral home, probably for his sister’s benefit. If he’d answered the door he might not have let her over the doorstep. This definitely hadn’t been part of the arrangement.

‘You too.’ The brief contact was enough to fluster her and she hoped she could explain away her reddening skin with the cold.

‘We use the main house for the clinic now. Esme and I have private rooms in another wing. We converted the old servants’ quarters downstairs into a small kitchen and informal lounge. It affords us a little privacy from the comings and goings at the clinic. Now, can I get you a drink? A mulled wine or hot toddy to warm you up?’ He swilled the contents of his whisky glass, filling the air with scent of cinnamon and warm spices.

‘No, thanks. I’m driving. I’d take a cup of tea, though.’ She didn’t want anything, but she was hoping a trip to the kitchen would get her some privacy to speak to Charles alone.

‘Ooh, what about a hot chocolate? I can make you a double chocolate with cream and marshmallows.’ Esme’s special sounded delicious after the poor service-station efforts they’d dared to charge Harriet for during the stops she’d made on the way here.

‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ This was all so civilised and bizarre. The Ross-Wyldes were acting as though she was a neighbour who’d just happened to drop by, not an ex-fiancée who’d turned up out of the blue after an extended absence. Either they were incredibly well mannered, which she knew, or they were too worried to ask why she’d come.

Lovely Esme slipped off towards the kitchen and Charles offered to take Harriet’s coat for her. She supposed she was staying longer than she’d imagined.

‘So, you were just passing by, huh?’ He was smiling as he helped her out of her jacket.

She’d panicked when it was clear she couldn’t blurt out the real reason she was here on his doorstep. He knew there was no ‘just passing by’ when London was an eight-hour drive away, yet he didn’t seem put out by her unexpected arrival.

‘I know this wasn’t part of our deal and I’m sorry to intrude on you on Christmas night. I didn’t realise you’d have a house full of people.’ Even alluding to the ‘arrangement’ seemed salacious outside the anonymity of the hotel now, when they were in his home.

Charles, however, didn’t appear perturbed if his smile was anything to go by. ‘Oh, don’t worry. You’ve saved me from another game of charades. Esme insists on covering all the clichés of the season.’

‘That explains the outfit.’ Now they were in better lighting she could see what he was wearing. The gold paper crown suited him, but the ugly sweater was a far cry from his usual dapper suits. Although he did look pretty cute in it.

‘A present from little sis. She made it herself.’ He rolled his eyes and Harriet knew he’d suffer the indignity of being seen in it rather than hurt Esme’s feelings. If only he’d taken such consideration over her feelings when he’d broken up with her, she mightn’t have been so intent on getting closure with that one last night together.

‘That’s lovely. It’s so thoughtful for someone to put all that time and effort into making a gift.’ To her, Christmas had become just another day. There weren’t many presents beyond the odd box of chocolates or a bottle of wine from a grateful patient and she didn’t bother making an elaborate Christmas dinner just for one. She preferred to work whenever she could, this year’s exception giving her the chance to make the journey here.

‘I guess. I’m sure she’d have made you one too if we’d known you were coming.’

Harriet could tell he was curious about what had brought her here when they’d severed all contact after that unforgettable night in his hotel room.

She cleared her throat. ‘I came because there’s something we need to discuss.’

‘In that case, we should go somewhere quiet. We’re winding down from our Christmas party and there are still a few people here.’

‘That would be better.’ She didn’t want an audience for what was a very private matter.

‘What are you two still doing, standing in the hall? Charles, bring Harriet in so she can have her hot chocolate by the fire.’ Esme tutted as she chivvied them towards the lounge, but Charles resisted leaving the hallway.

‘I think Harriet would prefer somewhere more peaceful after her long journey.’

She saw the disappointment on Esme’s face and didn’t want to hurt her feelings when she’d been so welcoming. ‘I can always make time for a hot chocolate first.’

Charles seemed to understand what had brought on her change of heart and stood back to let them enter the living room in front of him.

There were a few couples engaged in conversation by the table of food along the back wall and a ruggedly handsome man, who got to his feet when he saw them, sitting by the fire.

‘Harriet, this is Dr Max Kirkpatrick. Max, this is Harriet Bell, an orthopaedic surgeon visiting from London.’

Charles made the introductions, giving little detail away, but Harriet realised it would be impolite for him to say she was the fiancée he’d dumped on inheriting the family silver. Introducing her as ‘an ex I hooked up with recently at a medical conference’ wouldn’t have been the ideal ice-breaker either. The extra bodies in the room, however, did mean she was forced to delay her news a bit longer.

‘Nice to meet you.’ She shook hands with the man, who couldn’t keep his eyes off Esme, and Harriet detected a reciprocal attraction between them. He wasn’t the last man she remembered Esme being head over heels about, but she knew better than most that love didn’t last for ever. These two still had that glow of new romance about them, which suggested they were in that phase when they found it hard to keep their hands off each other.

‘You too. Esme, didn’t you say you needed a hand with something in the kitchen?’ Max wasn’t very subtle about wanting some alone time with Esme, but Harriet didn’t begrudge them their privacy. You had to take the good times when you could find them.

‘Yes, I think I did.’ Esme set the hot chocolate on the table and hurried out with him, giggling down the hall.

Harriet couldn’t help but glance in Charles’s direction, when they’d been as keen to spend time together not long ago. To find he was looking at her with that same longing was unravelling all the tension that had set in on the drive until her limbs felt more like spaghetti. One word and she just knew they’d both agree to another no-strings tryst. Except that word wouldn’t be ‘baby’. It was going to change the way he looked and felt about her, and probably not for the better.

‘I should probably let you meet some of our staff here.’ Charles led her over to the source of the chatter she’d heard from outside.

‘Harriet Bell.’ She shook hands with the group and introduced herself.

‘Cassandra Bellow.’ The pretty American set down the plate of canapés in her hand to greet her.

‘Cassandra is one of our past patients and this is Lyle Sinclair, our medical director.’ Charles didn’t have to tell her these two were a couple either when they were glued to each other’s sides.

‘I’m Aksel Olson. I work with Esme.’ The large hand pumping hers up and down next belonged to a bear of a man who couldn’t fail to make an impression. The muscular build and Scandinavian accent coupled with the long air gave him a definite Viking vibe.

‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, before Charles moved her swiftly on to the woman standing next to him.

‘Flora. I’m a physio at the clinic.’

‘Hi.’ She was definitely the gooseberry here but, then, so was Charles, who didn’t seem to have a significant other in the mix. Something that hadn’t gone unnoticed and brought her a sense of relief she hadn’t known she needed. It hadn’t entered her head that he might have met someone in the weeks since they’d last seen each other. Certainly, it hadn’t been part of the deal that they couldn’t date anyone else. They weren’t supposed to see each other again. Thankfully, things wouldn’t get any more complicated than they already were.

‘And you’ve already met Esme and Max.’ Charles didn’t attempt to hide his disapproval as they reappeared with huge smiles on their faces.

‘Are you staying in Cluchlochry?’ Charles asked, as she attempted to drink her hot chocolate through the cream and marshmallow topping. It tasted as over-indulgent as it looked, and she just knew she was wearing a cream moustache as a result. As confirmed by Charles’s smirk when she lifted her head to reply.

She did her best to wipe away all traces with the back of her hand. ‘Probably. I didn’t really think that far ahead.’

It would be suicidal to attempt a return trip tonight when she was ready for bed. There was bound to be a B&B in the village where she could put her head down for the night.

Charles frowned. ‘Not everywhere would be willing to take guests in on Christmas night and those that do will be booked out. We get a lot of people who come for the Christmas market and stay on for Christmas itself.’

‘You must stay with us, Harri. There’s plenty of room.’ It was Esme who offered her refuge, not her brother. Although Harriet wanted to protest, she couldn’t face getting back into her car again so soon.

‘Esme, I really wish you wouldn’t invite every waif and stray into Heatherglen as though it’s your personal rescue centre. We converted the stables for your pet projects.’

‘No offence taken,’ Harriet muttered.

‘Sorry. That was directed at someone else.’ He nodded towards the furry bundle currently rolling around at his feet.

‘Oh, he’s gorgeous. What’s his name?’ She knelt down to stroke the curious-looking puppy with tiger-striped brown fur, which was wearing its own ugly little sweater.

‘Dougal. He was half-starved when we found him, but Aksel nursed him back to health. Esme’s trying to find him a home now.’

It was Flora who filled her in on his sad background, which just made him even more adorable.

‘My sister has issues about turning anyone away.’ Charles muttered.

‘Harriet is neither a waif nor a stray. She’s a friend who’s very welcome to stay.’ Esme overruled her older brother, using Harriet as a pawn in their sibling rivalry.

‘I didn’t say she wasn’t. I was simply making a point, Esme.’

Harriet set down her cup. ‘It would probably be easier if I look for somewhere in town to stay.’

This wasn’t what she had planned at all. By this stage she’d expected to be on her way home, with Charles thanking his lucky stars for escaping the parent trap.

‘No!’ Both Ross-Wyldes expressed their indignation at the suggestion.

‘I thought you said you wanted to talk to me about something?’

‘We have so much catching up to do, Harri.’

The group watched the pair vying for her attention with as much fascination as she was, and Charles discreetly manoeuvred the argument away from the spectators over to the far side of the room.

‘Charles is just trying to make a point—badly—about him being the king of the castle here. He runs the clinic and I run the veterinary practice and canine therapy centre across the way.’ Esme punched him not so playfully on the arm.

‘Oh, I think you mean Laird, Esme—but, yes, this isn’t about you. Forgive me, Harriet. I’ll take you up and show you to one of the spare rooms. Dear sister, perhaps you’d be so kind as to get Harriet something to eat too?’

He batted his eyelashes at Esme and Harriet knew it would be enough to persuade her to do anything. Especially when he was wearing those glasses and that jumper, which made him look more like the Charles she’d known instead of the suave version she’d met at the conference. She hoped that would keep some of the most recent, more erotic memories at bay so she could stay focused on the reason she’d come all this way.

‘I would love to—but I’m doing it for our guest, not you, Chas.’ Esme fluttered those same long dark eyelashes in response. They were so alike it was probably why they’d fought for as long as Harriet had known them. Deep down it was obvious how much they loved each other, and she wished she’d had a brother or a sister to fight with, love unconditionally, and have to hold after she’d lost everyone else.

‘We keep a few rooms made up just in case of emergencies.’ Charles led her up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. She couldn’t help but wonder which door led to his.

‘Do you get many late-night, uninvited women calling in on you?’ she teased, when he was such a stark contrast to the man who’d literally sent her packing in a previous lifetime.

‘No, I don’t, but sometimes we get patients arriving too late to be admitted to the clinic, so we put them up here for the night.’ Her teasing fell flat with him, but she supposed his defence from her insinuations was understandable when she was accusing him of having loose morals. She knew nothing about him any more.