Page 102 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Is it usual for the guest of honour to wreak havoc, though? I fear for my drapes. For your model village.’

‘If he starts eating the decorations, we’ll shut him in Harry’s study. For now, Lucy is looking after him.’

‘Not sure you’d be so magnanimous if it was Darkness and Terror,’ she said, and couldn’t help squeezing him when he stiffened beneath her hands. ‘It’s OK, they’re in Harry’s study.’

‘I’ll have to get used to them if I’m going to be calling on you every day.’

‘Calling on me?’ Daisy said with a laugh. ‘We’re not in Regency England.’

‘I thought that was what you were going for tonight? What I’m saying is that I’ll have to get used to the dogs, because I’m going to be coming here a lot more.’

‘You are, are you?’

He looked serious, despite the paper snowflakes in his hair. She didn’t have the urge to brush them out this time. ‘I think so. I mean, before, there was a woman here and she was a lot of fun. A flirty, secret holiday romance.’

‘And now?’ Daisy’s heart was pounding, her breath held, as the music changed, the tempo increasing, people around them abandoning their waltzes in favour of jauntier moves.

‘Now the woman I love is here,’ he said. ‘The woman I want to be with, more than I want to get the house finished or listen to Jimmy Nail or eat bacon sandwiches from the bakery.’

‘That’s a whole lot of commitment to one woman.’

‘I know. But I also know she’s worth it. That’s she’s come home after a long time away, and she’s helped me realize what’s important.’

‘Same,’ Daisy whispered. ‘And also, you know what’s really great?’

‘What’s that?’

‘You can be with me and get your house finished, listen to Jimmy Nail and eat bacon sandwiches. We can do all those things together.’

‘We can,’ he said, and if his smile was slightly incredulous, and his next kiss filled with a sort of desperate wonderment, then it was exactly how she was feeling, too.

The ball was in full swing all around them, the opulent room in Mistingham Manor full of life and laughter, glasses clinking, Christmas songs and paper snowflakes filling the air. It was vibrant and fun and festive, and she and Avery were dancing in the middle of it, right at the heart of the place she had once discarded, the place she had come back to, the place – and the people – that were her home.

Daisy Anderly belonged in Mistingham with Avery, and not just for Christmas, but for the rest of her days.

Chapter Thirty-three

Daisy woke on Christmas morning in Mistingham Manor, in her room that looked out over the parkland and the sea, with Avery beside her, weak but welcome sunshine filtering in through the window.

She felt more excited and settled than she had done in a long time, even though so much was still up in the air. When you decided to move your entire life, to change your home and your career all at once, you couldn’t get everything sorted in a few days, even if you were the world’s most organized person.

‘Happy Christmas Daisy,’ Avery rumbled, tugging her against him. Daisy snuggled into his warmth, and decided that Avery, and her new Christmas pyjamas, decorated with little hat-wearing penguins, which she’d ordered online and which had arrived a couple of days ago, were all the gifts she needed. And yet, she had so much more.

‘Happy Christmas Avery.’ She turned in his arms so they were nose to nose. ‘I don’t have a stocking for you.’

‘I haven’t got one for you, either. Doesn’t mean we can’t start today in the best possible way.’ His kiss was soft and tender, lust simmering below the surface, but love – real, genuine love – leading his actions. Daisy could tell, because she felt it too. And, since his appearance at the ball, spending the rest of the night dancing and laughing and drinking with him and their friends, she hadn’t needed to hide it. She kissed him back, luxuriating in the early hour and the quiet of the house, and the feel of the man beside her.

In the kitchen, Sophie and Harry were making pancakes, the Christmas music on loud, a tiny tabletop tree – with its lights set to chase effect – acting like a shimmering, pine-scented disco ball.

‘Happy Christmas,’ Daisy said, and got hugs from Sophie and Harry. She turned and saw that Avery had stopped in the doorway. He was in jeans and a Christmas jumper covered in pigs wearing blankets. It reminded her of Felix, until she thought about the Christmas connotations of the design.

‘Come in.’ She held out her hand.

Avery’s eyes were on Darkness and Terror, who were standing in front of Daisy – Terror’s foot on hers – and staring up at her. She watched his chest rise and fall, then he took a large step into the room. The dogs lost interest in her and padded over to him, their heads angled up. Avery raised his hands as if to hold them off.

‘I don’t have any treats,’ he said, then flinched when Darkness barked. But he stood his ground, and when Terror nudged his thigh, he tentatively put his hand down, and the rust-coloured retriever stuck his wet nose into Avery’s palm. Daisy watched, pride and delight swirling in her chest.

‘Hey,’ Avery said on a swallow. ‘OK?’