Christmas Holiday Husband Read Online Free PDF Page B

scudded off like a frightened rabbit. Run for her life without hesitation.
    Or would she?
    That thought set her back on her heels. Could she have resisted seeing him again, knowing he was so close? She’d done that furtive Google search years ago. Now she searched the wall instead.
    And there he was, maybe sixteen, in singlet and shorts beside the stern of a yacht. Not too much older than Cal. Something twisted painfully in her heart as she compared them.
    In another he stood beside his parents under shady trees; the resemblance between father and son extreme. Both were wearing cricket whites. She leaned closer, and Tony said, “District Father and Son match. Summer school holidays at Glenleighton. They used to do it every year.”
    “But not now?”
    He shrugged. “Old Alfred Hamlin’s not so sociable these days.”
    Ellie moved on, eyes focussing on every photo of Tony. There he was again, looking infinitely more gorgeous, a few years older than when she’d met him—the tall confident groomsman at a wedding. “You cleaned up well for that one,” she said.
    “Matt McLeod’s marriage. We were at school together in Auckland. He’s a couple of years older than me, but we ended up sailing for the same club. Won a few races. That’s his brother, Hamish,” he added, pointing to the other groomsman. “It didn’t last long. Matt and Martine split after a couple of years.” He tapped the glass over one of the bridesmaids. “Julia.”
    Ellie’s mouth dropped open in a soundless gasp. So that’s who he’d married? She moved a step further along the landing, but her eyes remained glued on the former image.
    “And that’s her again of course,” Tony said, pointing to his own wedding photo.
    Ellie followed his finger. His bride was fair, slim, delicate. He’d wrapped a possessive arm around his trophy, drawing her to him as though she was the most precious woman in the world.
    Her heart pounded with pain. He’d looked at her that way for one incredible week. Watched her with those eyes that shone clear as whiskey in crystal when the sun danced in their depths. Pulled her hard against his divine body. And kissed her with that fascinating mouth.
    “Tell Ginny I’ll be down in a minute.”
    She jumped. She’d been miles away. “Okay,” she said, but the closing of his bedroom door made her comment unnecessary.
    Alone now, she peered more closely at the photo. She’d loved his mouth. Loved the full bottom lip that was so sexy she wanted constantly to bite it. Adored the precisely outlined bow of his top lip. Was so turned on by the sharp edges of something she knew to be hot and damp and sinfully soft when it wandered slowly down her neck or over her breasts, sucking, nipping, wreaking havoc with her senses.
    But his mouth could be hard, too. Demanding, voracious—biting passionately as they’d writhed out of control together. And she’d been willing to agree to anything he’d wanted—eager to make the flames lick even hotter. They’d kept each other as taut as piano wires, vibrating sensually at the slightest touch.
    He’d been twenty-four and she just eighteen.
    She sighed and closed her eyes in defeat. Why now? she begged, as the hurt from the past flooded upward again and threatened to engulf her in its sticky coils. Why now, when I’ve finally got my life organised and under control?
    She trod unwillingly down the splendid staircase, knowing she’d be facing him again all too soon, and certain she’d have to guard her tongue, and her heart.
    Xxx
    She helped Ginny set the big table while the twins bickered about names for a litter of puppies one of the collie bitches had recently produced.
    “Working dogs all end up with short, sharp names like Bess and Bob,” Ginny murmured, shaking her head at the girls’ fanciful suggestions which included Jennifer, Prince Charming, Marge Simpson and Furry-face.
    Ellie chuckled, picturing a hairy-legged farmhand bellowing for Prince Charming, but her laughter