Once Upon a Christmas (25 page)

Oliver was suffering from a severe case of frustration.

Maybe if he stripped off and rolled in the snow he might be able to cool his aching body, he mused, trying hard to occupy his mind with something—
anything
—that would distract him from the beautiful woman walking behind him.

He’d positioned her behind him because he knew that if she led the way he’d lose all concentration.

She was so sweet and honest.

And the kiss had been a serious mistake.

An impulse which he was now regretting more than he could possibly have imagined because he’d discovered that one relatively chaste kiss was never going to be enough.

He wanted more.

He wanted everything that this woman had to offer.

Which meant that he was in serious trouble because up until two weeks ago she’d been engaged to another man. Three weeks ago, he corrected himself quickly. A whole week had passed and during that time he’d become more and more convinced that David was totally the wrong guy for her.

Somehow he needed her to see that for herself.

He felt her hand tap him on the back and he stopped, turning immediately. ‘Are you all right?’

She was out of breath, her cheeks pink with exertion, and he thought he’d never seen a more gorgeous woman in his life. Her eyes sparkled and her soft lips were parted as she gasped for breath.

‘Next time I’m going walking with someone with shorter legs.’ She took a deep breath and grinned at him. ‘You are very fit.’

Oliver had a sudden urge to power her back against the nearest rock and show her just how fit he was.

Instead, he took a step backwards, just in case the temptation to touch her became too great. ‘Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.’

‘What were you thinking about?’

He shrugged. ‘Stuff …’
Her mostly.
‘I’ll slow down.’ He waved a hand at the scenery. ‘So, what do you think of our playground?’

She exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting over the hard lines of the mountains. ‘It’s really beautiful,’ she said quietly, and he felt a rush of relief.

He didn’t care that she was a townie. He didn’t care that she wasn’t fit enough to keep up with him.

But if she’d hated his mountains he would have cared.

‘So, do you want to play that game I told you about?’

She laughed and stamped her feet to keep warm. ‘What? Spot the boulder?’

He nodded and grasped her shoulders, turning her slightly. ‘We’re going to walk over there.’

‘Towards that ravine?’ She looked at him doubtfully and he smiled.

‘In the Lake District we call it a ghyll and, yes, we’re going to walk over there. But we’ll turn back before the path climbs upwards.’

‘Path?’ Helen squinted down at her feet. ‘What path?’

‘The one that’s under your feet. Come on.’ He turned and started to trudge up the mountain that was as familiar to him as his own kitchen. ‘Tell me what you see on the way. Landmarks.’

‘Lots of snow.’ She giggled and he turned and grabbed
her hand, totally unable to resist at least a small degree of physical contact.

‘Noticing lots of snow is not going to help you find your way home if you get lost, city girl.’ He waited for her to remove her hand and when she didn’t, a warm feeling settled inside him. ‘How about this rock?’

She was still laughing. ‘OK, I’ve seen it. Hello, rock.’

Oliver was laughing, too, and his grip on her hand tightened. ‘Something makes me think you’re not taking this entirely seriously.’

‘I’m not going to get lost,’ she said simply. ‘I’m with you.’

Oliver caught his breath and wondered why it was that fate had chosen to present him with the right woman at the wrong time.

Not that it was the wrong time for him, of course. He was more than ready to settle down but Helen was so blinded by her recent trauma that there was no way she would be ready to consider a new relationship so soon.

Consoling himself with the thought that time was on his side, he kept hold of her hand and they walked steadily uphill. The more she told him about David, the more obvious it was to him that she hadn’t been in love with the guy. She’d drifted into the engagement because that had been what everyone had expected.

Given time and distance from her family, he was sure that she’d eventually come to realise that for herself.

It had finally stopped snowing and the sun was shining, and they didn’t pass another person.

He stopped at a rocky outcrop. ‘This is far enough and we can sit here without getting wet. Let’s have something
to eat.’ He swung the pack off his back and delved inside. ‘Are you hungry?’

She sank down onto the rock and gave him a wry smile. ‘Oliver, we both know that you’re going to make me eat whether I’m hungry or not, so it doesn’t really matter what I say, does it?’

He smiled placidly and pulled out a flask of hot soup. ‘Good point.’ He poured the soup into two mugs and handed her one.

She shook her head. ‘I’m going to be the size of a block of flats by the time I go back to London.’

The sharp pangs of hunger faded at her words. Suddenly he didn’t feel like eating.

Time no longer seemed to be on his side.

‘You’re going back to London?’ He must have looked as horrified as he felt because she gave him a strange look.

‘Well, of course I am.’ She looked confused. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

Because his plan relied on her staying here long enough to realise that she had never been in love with David.

‘You’ve got nothing to go back for.’

She stared across the wild mountain scenery in silence and he saw the pain in her face.

Cursing himself for having been so tactless, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ he groaned, but she shook her head.

‘Don’t be. It’s true.’ She took a sip of soup. ‘I suppose going back to London isn’t something I’ve even thought about. I gave up my job and the house was David’s anyway, so coming up here was an escape.’

‘So stay here.’

‘I can’t hide forever, Oliver, no matter how appealing the thought is.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘For a start, at some point Bryony is going to want her house back.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Oliver handed her a sandwich. ‘Jack Rothwell owns an enormous pile about three miles from the cottage. I’m sure they’ll move in there soon enough. That will leave the cottage empty.’

Helen stared at him and he could tell that the idea hadn’t even occurred to her before now.

‘Live here …’ She stared at the mountains again and let out a long breath. ‘That would be like a dream.’

‘Then stay.’

‘Dreams don’t always work in real life,’ she said sadly. ‘For a start, your practice nurse is only gone for a month,’ she reminded him, and he rubbed a hand over his face.

‘So we’ll find you another job. No problem.’

She smiled. ‘Oliver, I don’t know anyone here.’

‘You know Bryony.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘And you know me.’

His eyes locked with hers and he could see the question in her eyes.

‘Oliver …’ Her voice was soft and she looked away, clearly feeling awkward. ‘I don’t … You can’t—’

He sighed. ‘Look, I’m going to be honest here so when I’ve had my say you can black my eye. I like you, Helen. A lot.’ Major understatement. ‘If you weren’t suffering from a very unpleasant break up I would have made a move on you a long time ago.’

Surprise flickered in her blue eyes. ‘You’ve only known me for a week.’

‘I’ve always been decisive. Now it’s your turn to be honest.
Or are you going to tell me that you haven’t felt the chemistry between us?’

She gave a little gasp and the colour seeped into her cheeks. But she didn’t deny it. In fact, she didn’t speak at all, just turned her head and stared across the valley, leaving him with her profile.

And that didn’t tell him anything.

‘Helen?’ His voice was gentle and he stepped around her so that he could see her face. ‘I’m not intending to jump on you, sweetheart. I just wanted to point out that it’s there.’

Her eyes locked on his, her expression almost puzzled. ‘Two weeks ago I was marrying David.’

‘Three weeks,’ he corrected her firmly. ‘It was three weeks ago, Helen.’

She shook her head and gave a little shrug. ‘Three weeks. It still doesn’t change the fact that I was marrying another man.’

‘But you didn’t love him.’

She frowned and shook her head. ‘I did. I mean, I do.’ She bit her lip, her expression troubled. ‘I thought I did—now I don’t know any more.’

‘All right.’ Oliver put both hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him. ‘Let’s try something. Tell me what you loved about David.’

‘That isn’t exactly a fair question.’

‘Why not?’

She looked at him helplessly. ‘Because right now I’m so angry with him I’m finding it hard to remember.’

Oliver gave a slow smile. ‘All right, let’s try something different. When did you first realise that you were in love with David?’

‘I don’t know.’ She frowned. ‘You make it sound as though it’s a light-bulb moment. One minute you’re not in love and the next minute you are.’

That’s exactly how it had been for him. A light-bulb moment.

The moment he’d seen her in the church he’d known.

Oliver looked at her thoughtfully. ‘And it wasn’t like that for you?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.’ She chewed her lip. ‘I started going out with David when I was nineteen—he was my first proper boyfriend, so I suppose I just grew to love him over time.’

Oliver’s hands dropped from her shoulders. ‘You’ve been going out with him since you were nineteen?’

She stared at him. ‘Why is that so shocking?’

Oliver let out a long breath. ‘Because that means you must have been with him for years.’

‘Six years.’ She nodded. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘So when did you decide to marry him?’

‘I don’t know. It just seemed like the logical next step.’

Oliver looked at her searchingly, wondering if she realised what she was saying.

There didn’t seem to have been a single grain of romance in her relationship with David.

‘What about you?’ She looked at him almost defiantly. ‘You’re not married so you’re obviously not exactly dedicated to commitment.’

‘It is precisely my dedication to commitment that has stopped me from marrying the wrong person,’ Oliver said calmly. ‘I’ve been waiting for Miss Right.’

Helen smiled. ‘But you’ve never found her?’

‘I found her a week ago.’

There was a long silence and a mixture of shock and excitement flickered across her blue eyes. ‘Oliver, you don’t—’

‘If you’re about to tell me that I’ve only known you for a week, then I should probably remind you that I’m a very decisive person. Always have been. I know what I want, and once I know what I want I make a point of making sure that I get it.’

She swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on his. ‘And what do you want, Oliver?’

‘You,’ he said softly, lifting a hand and cupping her face as he looked down into her eyes. ‘I want you, Helen. And I’m prepared to wait until you realise that you want me, too.’

‘Oliver …’ She tried to pull away but he slid his other hand around her waist and anchored her against him.

‘Let’s just try something, shall we?’

Holding her gently but firmly, he brought his mouth down on hers.

Her lips were soft and sweet and Oliver gave a groan, waiting for her to pull away or slap his face, but instead she gave a little sigh and her mouth opened under his. His last coherent thought was that kissing Helen was going straight to the top of his list of favourite pastimes and then he sank under the surface of an excitement so intense that it couldn’t be measured.

His previously clear mind was drugged by sensation and he kissed her fiercely, driven by a ravenous hunger deep inside him.

He felt her arms slide around his neck and Oliver
dragged her closer, frustrated by the thickness of the clothing that separated them, desperate to rip off her layers so that he could feast on her body.

He felt her quiver against him, felt the intensity of her response as she kissed him back, and knew without doubt that this was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

But he had the sense to know that he couldn’t take her there in one enormous leap, and when she suddenly made a little sound and pushed at his chest, he didn’t try and stop her.

To be honest, he was too shocked to stop her.

He’d kissed enough women in his life to think that he’d experienced all the different degrees of sexual excitement, but nothing had come close to the way he’d felt kissing Helen. It was as if all the other kisses had been in black and white and this one had been in colour.

And you didn’t have to be a genius to know that it had been the same for her.

Her breath was coming in shallow pants and she dropped her eyes, focusing her attention on the middle of his chest. ‘I can’t believe I just did that.’

‘You didn’t,’ he said calmly. ‘I did. I was the one who kissed you.’

‘But I kissed you back.’

She sounded so appalled that he smiled.

‘Well, just a bit perhaps.’

‘Anyone could have seen us.’

‘Those sheep over there definitely saw.’

She didn’t smile and he gave a sigh and stroked the back of his hand down her cheek in a gesture that was supposed
to comfort. ‘Is that why you stopped? Because someone might have seen us?’

‘Yes. No.’ She was deliciously confused and he felt something shift inside him.

‘Helen, stop analysing, sweetheart,’ he advised softly. ‘We kissed and it was—it was …’
What was it?
How on earth did you describe a kiss like that? Explosive? Frightening? ‘It was just a kiss.’

She looked at him. ‘Two weeks ago I was marrying David.’

‘Three weeks ago.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘It was three weeks ago.’

She gave a lopsided smile. ‘You think one more week makes a difference to the fact that I just got carried away with another man?’

‘You weren’t carried away, Helen,’ he said easily. ‘You stopped it. If you’d been carried away we’d both now be naked on that rock at severe risk of suffering frostbite.’