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Authors: Serenity Woods

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BOOK: Santa's Secret
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His pace increased, and she tried to hold
on for his climax, but her traitorous body was already tightening, and she
couldn’t wait any longer. “Rudi…” She gasped.

“Yes,” he said triumphantly, his deep voice
husky in her ear. “Come for me, Eva.” He bent his head and sucked the place
where her pulse beat frantically in her neck.

As had happened before, she reached the
point where she discarded her last measure of reservation, where embarrassment
and shyness were no longer a factor, where she was just a woman making love
with a man. She gave herself over to him completely, letting him take her,
letting her body have its own way, and cried out as he skilfully brought her to
the edge and let her fall.

The orgasm radiated out from inside her,
every muscle contracting with exquisite slowness, before the pulses began, hard
enough and overwhelming enough to make her exclaim, “Fuck!”

He gave a deep, satisfied growl, then rose
up for a final few thrusts before erupting, pushing her down into the pillows
as he leaned over her. She let him take his pleasure, enjoying his primeval
grunts, his hand gripping her shoulder as his body tightened and jerked and
spilled inside her.

He finished, finally, after an orgasm that
seemed to go on forever, and collapsed onto her with a half-laugh, half-groan.
“Jesus, Eva. You are going to be the death of me, I swear.”

“You started it,” she said, panting, unable
to move with his heavy weight pinning her down. “Can’t…breathe…”

She’d expected him to apologise and move,
ever the gentleman. Clearly, though, he was still in feral lover mode. He just
muttered, “Tough,” and rested his forehead on the pillow. “I do not think I
will have the energy to move until Christmas Day.”

She turned her head and looked out at the
snow, squashed and happy, feeling the beat of his heart against her back. Was
she to be pinned beneath Rudi for the rest of the holiday?

Hmm.
She
could think of worse things...

Chapter Thirteen

They walked back through the heavy snow
together, holding hands, talking about the little things—favourite foods,
movies, music, exploring each other’s minds the way they had just explored each
other’s bodies.

Rudi felt a swell of contentment as Eva
broke out into song, her face alight with happiness. She had a lovely voice,
pure and high, and the carol rang out, stirring something within him, a faint memory
of his mother singing to him when he was a child.

His boots sank into the new snow,
encouraging the memory, conjuring up the smell of pine forests, the feel of
numb fingers in gloves, and the taste of beef stew—his favourite meal as a boy,
which Frieda had often served him when he came in from the cold.

“Penny for them?” Eva said.

He blinked, realising she’d stopped
singing. “Sorry. I was miles away.”

“You looked happy,” she said. “Were you
somewhere nice?”

“The happiness is due to you,
armas.

He smiled, meaning it. He hadn’t particularly looked forward to this holiday,
had even dreaded it a little, worried that Isabel wouldn’t enjoy it and that it
would all fall flat, but the reality was turning out to be vastly different.

Eva blushed and rubbed her nose. She’d put
on the same clothes she’d had on earlier, brushed her hair with his brush,
splashed water on her face and reapplied her lip balm, but all he could see was
his mark on her—the swollen lips, the flush in her cheeks, the faint pink smudge
on her neck where he’d sucked the soft skin.
Naughty boy,
she’d said
when looking in the mirror, but she’d turned to kiss him passionately, and he
sensed she wasn’t devastated. That in itself thrilled him; although she’d borne
his attentions happily enough, Vanessa had never found the animal side of sex
attractive and had always liked to remain in control, almost as if she played
out her life imagining herself always on stage.

But Eva had met and matched him, had been
hungry and wild, and when he’d forgotten himself and been a little rough, she’d
urged him on instead of reprimanding him, had encouraged him to do more.

He stopped walking, and she went on a few
paces before pausing and turning to face him, her eyebrows rising.

“What?” she said.

He walked forwards, put his hands on her
hips and pulled her towards him. “I want you.”

Her lips curved. “Again?”

“Once was not enough.”

“Twice,” she corrected, and giggled.

He lowered his head and brushed her lips
with his own. “Tomorrow. Same time, same place.”

She moistened her lips with the tip of her
tongue, and his erection miraculously reappeared, even though twenty minutes before
he’d thought he’d never have the energy to get it up again as long as he lived.

“I shouldn’t,” she said.

He rubbed her nose with his own, Inuit
style, and kissed her. Long, slow and leisurely, unmindful of anyone walking
past. Snow coated them both as they stood there, flakes falling on their hair
and shoulders, soft and silent. Then he lifted his head and looked into her
eyes, knowing his own would hold the passion already rising inside him.

She swallowed. “Okay,” she squeaked. “If
Oscar enjoyed it there, and wants to go back.”

“Of course.”

She gave a little shake of her head.
“Honestly.”

He chuckled and tucked her hand into the
crook of his arm, then began walking again.

Eva had obviously worried that Oscar had
hated every minute of being at the Little Elves and bawled his eyes out the
whole time, but when they arrived, she found him seated up the table, covered
in glue and glitter, a huge smile on his face as he showed her the cardboard
picture of an angel covered in buttons and stars and clumps of sequins.

“It’s beautiful, darling,” she said,
bending to give him a kiss.

Rudi grinned at Isabel, who rolled her eyes.
He laughed. “Did you have a good time?”

She showed him her creation, a neatly
coloured picture of an angel, covered in glitter. “It was fun,” she said. “We
played a few games and sang some Christmas songs.”

He changed to Finnish as Eva walked away
holding Oscar’s hand. “It wasn’t too much of a drag having to watch over
Oscar?”

“No, he’s all right. He’s so terrible at
everything that he makes me look brilliant.” She grinned.

“You
are
brilliant.” He kissed her
forehead.

She laughed again, but a faint blush
touched her cheeks. He’d pleased her, he thought.

Cool. He’d made both the women in his life
happy that day.

Content, he held Izzy’s hand as they walked
back to the cabins, smiling at Eva as the two children told them everything
that had happened since the moment they walked out of the Centre.

“Would you like to go again tomorrow?” he
asked Isabel in English, trying not to laugh as Eva’s eyes widened as if she’d
thought he was addressing the question to her.

“Yes!” Isabel said enthusiastically.
“Tomorrow they are giving out presents. If that is okay, Daddy?”

“I am sure I can spare you for a little
while,” he said, glancing across at Eva. She sent him a reprimanding look, but
obviously couldn’t pretend any longer and her lips curved, her eyes lightening
with pleasure.

They reached the cabins, and he leaned
forwards to kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely time,” he said,
meaning it.

“Thank
you
. I enjoyed it.”

They stood facing each other, polite as
strangers, but their eyes locked, unsaid words filling the air around them like
the fat flakes of snow.

“Can they come to dinner with us, Daddy?”
Isabel asked.

He wanted to hug her for suggesting it. He
hadn’t wanted to seem too pushy himself, but this way it looked more friendly
than desperate. “Well, they may be busy…” But he sent Eva a hopeful glance.

She smiled. “We’d love to.”

He was surprised at the pleasure that
filled him. “One hour?”

“Sure. See you then.”

He went into his cabin and closed the door.
Isabel took off her coat and boots and then, as usual, crossed to the TV, switched
it on and sat in front of it with her colouring book.

Rudi went over to the bed and lay down.
He’d pulled the duvet straight and plumped up the pillows, but one of them held
a slight indentation where Eva’s head had lain. He rolled onto his side, looking
out at the snow, but remembering how he’d curled around her, how warm and soft
and sensual she’d been.

Had he made a huge mistake, sleeping with
her? On the surface of it, it had been the best decision of his life, because
she’d been such fun, and he hadn’t realised how much he’d needed the physical
contact after so long alone.

But where did they go now? They were both
leaving on Boxing Day. It was hardly a lengthy courtship. Their coming together
was like two trains pulling into a station before exiting, bound for opposite
ends of the country. And in fact, in their case, the continent. Soon they’d be
leaving, and he would never see her again.

He turned onto his back and lay there for a
long time, staring at the ceiling.

Around six thirty, his mobile rang, Frieda
again, and he flipped it open and answered it, still lying on the bed. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Frieda said.

“Hi. How are you doing?”

“All good here. Just checking up on you.
Not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No,” he said, his lips curving as he thought
of what she might have disrupted if she’d rung an hour earlier.

“What are you up to? Working?”

He sighed. “No. I’m lying on the bed.”

“Resting? Dear God. Are you feeling all
right?”

He smiled wryly. “No need for sarcasm. I’ve
just got in, and I’m going out for dinner at five.”

“Treating Isabel? How nice.”

“Yes.” He hesitated—just long enough for
her to pick up on.

“Oh…come on Rudolph, spill the beans.”

“There’s nothing to spill…”

“I know you better than that.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Seriously,
it’s nothing important. I’m just meeting up with a friend I’ve made.”

“What’s his name?”

He tried not to laugh. “Oscar.”

“What does he do?”

“Finger paintings, mostly. Some Lego.”

There was a moment of silence. Then she
said, “Rudi…”

He sighed. “Her name’s Eva. She’s twenty-six,
single mum, her husband died eighteen months ago, and her son’s three. Anything
else you’d like to know?”

“I see.” The smile in her voice shone
through. “When did you meet her?”

“Only a few days ago. The kids get on well,
surprisingly—I think Isabel’s enjoying looking after Oscar, and he’s sort of
helping her to join in, you know?” He lifted his head to see whether his
daughter was listening, but she was laughing at
The Muppets’ Christmas Carol
on the TV and didn’t appear to have heard him.

“That’s lovely, darling, I’m so glad you’ve
made a friend. I had these awful visions of you sitting there alone eating a
mince pie on Christmas Eve.”

He laughed. “No, I’m sure that won’t be
happening. We’ll probably spend tomorrow together, I’d imagine.”

“You sound very happy.”

He held a hand up to the ceiling and traced
his finger around the shape of the lampshade. “Do I?”

“You like this girl, don’t you?”

“She’s all right.” He smiled.

“Have you had sex yet?”

His eyes widened. “Good grief. Mother!”

“Only I was going to say I hope you have,
because I think it would do you a world of good to have a fling.”

He swore softly and pinched the bridge of
his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “This isn’t happening.”

“You have, haven’t you?” She sounded
delighted. “Good for you!”

“I’m going now.”

“What did you do with the kids while you
did it?”

“Sat them in front of the TV—it’s quite a
large room.”

“Rudi…”

“They went to a kids’ club and had a great
time. Why am I telling you this?”

“Because you know I love you and I want the
best for you. I haven’t heard you this happy in a long time.”

“Don’t make more of this than it is,” he
warned. “She’s not Finnish—she lives in the UK and she’ll be going back there
on Boxing Day. It can’t come to anything.”

“It’s Christmas, Rudi. A time for
miracles.”

He looked out at the snow, falling thickly
now like a curtain across the view of the forest. A wave of sadness came over
him. Miracles and magic were for children. They had no place in the world of
adults. “I have to go now.”

“Okay, darling. Well, have fun with Eva.”

In spite of himself, he smiled. “I will.”

“Speak tomorrow.” She hung up.

He clipped the phone shut and checked his
watch. Twenty minutes left. Enough daydreaming about things that were never
going to happen. His work was the only thing that mattered, and he had time to
get a few emails written before dinner.

BOOK: Santa's Secret
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