Page 48 of Winter Magic at Hollybrae Castle

‘What for?’

He gives it some thought before answering. ‘It’s not the decorations that have made the castle feel alive – it’s you. It’s everything. The little things, like the tree in the living room. You did that for me. Not for the guests, just for me. It’s special.’

‘Thank you too. Thank you for believing in me. From day one, you’ve trusted me. Even when you come home to find twenty-three poinsettias in your dining room and hundreds of metres of undecorated garland, you’ve never questioned it or doubted me. That’s special too.’

A tornado of butterflies fills my stomach at the look in his beautiful blue eyes as he gazes down at me like I’m the most valuable thing he’s ever held. His fingers stroke my hair, and I have never felt so desired in all my life. He breathes my name. His hand is on the side of my neck, stroking my hair aside. His eyes drift to my lips, his breathing getting faster.

I’ve never felt this desperate to kiss anyone. He can undoubtedly feel my chest heaving as I try to force my sensible head to fight for control over my pounding heart. If I kiss him, really kiss him, I’m not going to know how to draw the line between pretence and real.

It’s impossible to resist the temptation to wrap my fingers in his grey and cream-striped hoodie, and the bells on my socks jingle as I push myself onto tiptoes. I’ve barely stopped thinking about kissing him again since the mistletoe blunder at the office party, because even a peck done for show was one of the best pecks of my life, and it left my imagination running wild about what it would be like to kiss him behind closed doors.

When he lowers his head to mine, there’s no possible reaction other than to surge upwards and meet his lips full on.

It’s a soft, tentative kiss, shy and careful, everything Ollie is in one tender movement, and a feeling of complete bliss washes through me, making me glad he’s strong enough to hold us both upright.

When we pull back, his lips are still pressed against mine. ‘I’m well aware I shouldn’t have done that.’

His voice is a delicious whisper that sends even more shivers through me. He makes no attempt to move away, and my fingers are curling into his body, holding him close, leaving him in no doubt that I don’t want him to move a millimetre.

The attraction to him has been building and building, and I can’t hold it back any more, and it breaks, bursting like a wave crashing against the cliffs below.

I kiss him again. I push myself up harder, claw him closer, and this time, it’s less shy and tentative and more frantic and needy, because I have needed to kiss him for weeks now, and the fact he’s feeling it too brings out a wild side in me that makes me grab his hair and twist my fingers into his clothes, panting against his mouth, spurred on by the noises he’s making.

‘Or that,’ I murmur when we pull apart this time, making us both giggle.

‘But I’m glad I did.’

‘So am I.’ I lean up to kiss him again, and again, and many more times, until it’s so late that we can’t stand outside the bedroom doors canoodling any longer, but we’re both drawing it out. I don’t want to say goodnight to him. I don’t want this night to end yet. I don’t want to think about what happens in the morning. If this is a mistake… If we go back to being boss and employee come daylight…

He’s holding onto my hand and trying to persuade himself to walk towards his bedroom door, and at the last moment, before my hand falls out of his grip, he jiggles it instead. ‘Want to sleep in here tonight?’

I raise an eyebrow, and he adds, ‘Nothing funny. I just know I’m going to lie awake thinking about you all night otherwise.’

‘Same. God, so much same.’ I love that he says that so openly, when the truth is I’ve been lying awake for many nights now thinking about Ollie, and it wouldn’t have crossed my mind to tell him so.

It’s just practising, I tell the ‘this is a bad idea’ voice in my head as I follow him into his bedroom. I need to be coming and going via this door when the guests are here, this is just making life easier by getting into the habit.

After we’ve got ready for bed, we cuddle up together under his duvet, my head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around me.

I don’t want to go to sleep because that would mean being unaware of being cuddled by this gorgeous man. He drifts off instantly and I lie there, holding his arm where it’s around my chest, and trying to remember the last time I felt so content, and all I can come up with is… never. I have never felt as happy as I do here.

I shift my head until I can press a kiss to his neck and he burrows closer in his sleep. With him. I’ve never felt as happy as I do with him.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of distant whistling and the most gorgeous smell floating up from below. As much as I want to stretch out and stay in Ollie’s bed for the rest of the day, it’s really not the same without him in it, so I force myself to pull his cream cardigan around myself and venture downstairs.

From the corridor to the kitchen, I can hear him clattering around inside, whistling the tune of ‘Coventry Carol’, and it makes me smile to myself, but not as much as I smile when he looks up as I go in and the beam that blazes across his face is so bright that it makes me feel like I need sunglasses. ‘Good morning.’

‘I wanted to make us breakfast before I get ready for work.’ He beckons me over, and as soon as I reach him, he slides an arm around my waist and plants a kiss on my head so affectionately that it makes me feel like I’m falling through the air even though I’m on solid ground. I huddle against him and try to figure out what’s going on in the skillet he’s tending to.

‘Cinnamon toast,’ he explains as he spreads a mix of cinnamon, sugar, and butter onto thick slices of white bread and when he’s put them in the pan with a sizzle, he bends to lift me up into his arms and I wrap my legs around his body as our mouths meet again.

He looks morning-rumpled and dishevelled in the sexiest way possible and I run my fingers through his messy hair. This is the way to start a morning. There will never be a better way to wake up than by kissing Ollie.

He carries me to the nearest kitchen unit and sets me down so I’m sitting on it without our mouths ever parting. I’m moments away from ripping his clothes off and physically dragging him back up to bed, and he grunts like he’s feeling the exact same way.

‘We have a problem,’ he whispers against my lips. ‘I don’t know how to stop kissing you.’