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My mouth is dry. “I did. I moved there with my partner. He got a job at a top teaching hospital on the west coast.”
“Teaching what?”
“Medical students.”
“Funny.” His eyes crinkle as he laughs at my poor joke.
I sigh. “Cardiology. He was…is…a Consultant Cardiologist.”
He grins and taps his temple. “See, I knew it. Heart guy. So, what happened?”
“He was great. Our life there was perfect. I got a job as a nursing sister in the A&E department at the same hospital. He wanted to get married, to have children. But…”
“But…?”
“My heart wasn’t in it. I could never…it was never…I just couldn’t marry him when I knew my heart belonged to someone else. He got over it. Married a beautiful Californian woman, and they have two children. We still exchange Christmas cards.”
“Do you wish you had?”
I stare into the fire. “What, married him? No. There are things I regret, things I’d like to have done. But not with him. It would have been wrong.” I turn, looking him straight in the eye. “My heart is yours, Ali. Always has been. Always will be. Marriage, children, any of those things, I wish…I wish I had had the chance to do them with you.”
Warmth blooms over the back of my hand. I look down to see Ali’s hand covering mine. His hand is so big that it dwarves mine under it. I turn my hand over and his fingers entwine with mine.
“I’ve always been yours, Sera.”
He draws me towards him, folding me gently against the firm expanse of his chest. I tilt my head to look at his face. The face that lit my dreams. The face I wished so hard to see. The face I didn’t really believe I could ever be lucky enough to see again. I run my fingers down his jaw.
“I can’t quite believe you are here.”
His lips curve into a smile. “Me neither. This…us…together…it is…”
“Christmas magic?”
“Definitely.” His blue eyes are soft. He bends his head and presses his lips against mine. Heat washes through my body as his mouth possesses me, each brush of his tongue sweeping away the pain of our too-long separation. His hands range over my body, trailing, pressing, teasing, claiming each curve. I open under his hands, inviting further exploration. Every fibre of my being is his. I am on fire for him.
His blue eyes, dark with desire, meet mine as his lips trail a line of kisses down my throat. As his body presses me gently into the thick pile of the hearthside rug, my eyes light on Aunt Molly’s chair. Would she be scandalised that I’m allowing Alistair Whyte to possess my body in a way that is melting my insides? Absolutely not. I swear I can almost hear the ghost of a whispered cheer echoing in the crackle of the fire. She knew. She knew all along that we’d be perfect for each other.
“If you are thinking about your Aunt Molly right now, I am doing something wrong.” He looks at me over the waistband of my jeans.
I blush and give a small laugh. “Sorry. I was just thinking she’d probably have scolded us for taking so long to work it out.”
He laughs. “Probably.” He gives me a frankly panty-melting smile and moves to unbutton my jeans.
Panties.
Oh no.
“Ali, stop, wait, I…”
He stops instantly. “Too fast?”
“No, no, noooo! It isn’t that. It is just…I was on shift…and, well, I wasn’t expecting…er, company, and…”
He looks me dead in the eye then pops the buttons on my jeans. I squirm, my hands covering my eyes, as button by button, centimetre by centimetre, he reveals the oldest, grayest, least sexy pair of knickers I possess.
“Wow,” he says with a grin. “Those are vintage.”
“Do you mind? I’m dying up here.”
