Christmas Nights (39 page)

S
LEEPILY
Heaven struggled to sit up. Outside the car everything was pitch-black.

‘Where are we?’ she asked Jon groggily.

‘Nearly home,’ he told her.

Nearly home. Heaven could feel her heart start to beat just a little bit too fast.

‘Look, it’s starting to snow,’ he told her urgently as small fine white flakes started to drift across the car windscreen.

‘Snow!’ Heaven peered out of the window as excitedly as a small child, whilst Jon watched her and laughed.

‘You look about sixteen,’ he teased her, ‘with your hair all ruffled and your make-up…’

When his glance drifted to her mouth Heaven discovered that she was colouring up again as she remembered how she’d come to be denuded of her lipstick. Self-consciously she touched her lips with her fingertips and then tensed as Jon told her softly, ‘Don’t do that…’

‘Why not?’ Heaven whispered back to him, her eyes soft and huge in her small face as she turned uncertainly to look at him.

The road was empty; it was three o’clock in the morning.
Swiftly Jon brought the car to a halt and reached for her, gathering her into his arms as he whispered against her mouth, ‘Because it makes me want to kiss you.’

Heaven tried to protest as logic and common sense dictated that she must, but happily the very fact that Jon’s mouth was already covering hers, caressing hers, meant that her protest never got further than an ‘Oh’—and for some reason instead of recognising this for what it was Jon seemed to think that the soft parting of her lips wasn’t so much representative of a womanly objection to his kiss-stealing actions but in fact a very feminine invitation to make the kiss even more intimate and devastating to Heaven’s vulnerable self-control.

Mmm… Outside the car it might be cold enough to be snowing but inside the temperature was quite definitely rising. The sexual chemistry and magnetism between them were positively making the air sizzle, Heaven recognised dreamily as she snuggled closer to Jon, her hands automatically sliding beneath his jacket to hold him closer.

The deep sound of satisfaction he made in response to her own softer but very recognisable sensual response made Heaven feel as though she was melting, slowly, deliciously, languorously, and as inevitably as a dish of ice cream in the warm summer sun. Jon made her feel all soft and sensual and deliciously, dangerously wanton, as though… as though…

‘What happened to you? We should have done this months ago,’ she heard Jon groaning as he drew her even closer.

Months ago he had left on a flight to goodness knew where after one brief date, whilst she…

The shudder of remembered revulsion and shame
which had begun to tense her body turned to a shivery muscle reaction of a very different type as Jon’s hand slid upwards over her body towards her breast. She could hear her own heartbeat picking up speed, feel her whole body starting to react to the urgent pressure of his hand against her breast.

‘Oh-h-h…’ Heaven couldn’t stop herself from giving a small betraying gasp of pleasure as Jon’s thumb circled her nipple, causing it to harden and beg unashamedly and very provocatively for even more of his touch.

‘You’re making me feel… react… more like a teenager than a grown man,’ she heard him whispering, groaning in her ear as he started to drag a passionate line of kisses along her jaw and over her throat.

‘Jon…’ Heaven could hear the passion in her own voice as she arched her neck, her instinctive response throwing the profile of her body into clear relief, revealing her tightly erect nipples.

Totally lost in what she was feeling, she was unaware of Jon’s momentary tension and hesitation, and of the fact that he was muttering something very male and urgent below his breath, but the sudden sensation of his mouth against her body as his hands cupped her breasts sent a thrill of sharp, dizzying feminine pleasure hurtling through her.

In his urgency to taste the delicious nubs of flesh that were being so innocently and irresistibly offered to him, Jon couldn’t wait to unzip Heaven’s dress, hungrily pulling the fabric down and quickly laying bare one soft round breast.

Heaven felt the shudder that went through him as he studied the feminine softness of her avidly for a heartbeat
of time, gently rubbing her bare nipple with his thumb before guiding it into his mouth.

The sensation of his lips closing round her flesh, of him suckling on her bare flesh—carefully at first and then with far more urgency as his reaction to the taste of her overwhelmed him—made Heaven’s whole body contort with delicious pleasure. Willingly she gave herself up to the erotic sensation of Jon’s mouth tugging on one breast whilst his hand caressed the other.

Yearningly Heaven reached out to touch him, an erotic image of his naked body dancing behind her closed eyelids, her imagination tantalising and arousing her. Her fingertips found the buttons on his shirt and impetuously tugged at them.

The shudder that racked Jon’s body as she touched him had nothing to do with the cold beyond the passionate heat they had generated inside the car—and nor had the low male groan of need he gave as the hand that had been caressing her breast captured her wrist, pressing her palm flat against the soft, silky dark hair that arrowed downwards from his chest.

‘Lower,’ Heaven heard him growl pleadingly. ‘Lower, Heaven—touch me here,’ he begged rawly, moving her hand down towards his waistband as his mouth released her breast to whisper the tormented words against her lips.

All at once Heaven started to panic. She was behaving as though she and Jon had known one another for ever, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be together like this, as though the intimacy they were sharing was so natural and preordained that to deny or obstruct it would be like denying one another air to breathe.

But their relationship wasn’t like that. She knew him, yes, had been attracted to him, yes, and yes, all right, had felt perhaps even more than mere attraction for him—had, if she was honest, hoped, even felt that he had shared the feelings she had experienced the evening he had taken her out. But this—this explosion of passion and intensity between them, this sense of coming home, of being completely at one with him—these were surely far too dangerous emotions for her to put any trust in.

She had, she reminded herself, already been on an adrenalin- and tension-induced high even before she had realised that Jon was one of Harold’s guests, and events since she had realised it had done nothing to help her come down from that high—far from it.

‘What’s wrong?’ she heard Jon ask her softly as he felt her tension.

‘Nothing…’ Heaven denied, and then added shakily, ‘This wasn’t meant to happen. I didn’t want…’

‘To be dragged off into the night and driven half the length of the country? Or to be made love to by me?’ he asked her wryly. ‘Which?’

‘Neither,’ Heaven lied primly, taking advantage of the fact that he had released her to hurriedly straighten her dress and turn her head slightly away from him so that he couldn’t see her face properly.

‘I’m sorry,’ she heard him apologising. ‘It wasn’t my intention to. You’re a very special woman, Heaven,’ he added in an even softer and very deep voice. ‘So special in fact that…’

He was starting the engine as he spoke, and set the car back in motion without finishing his sentence, but, even though she was desperately curious to know what
he had been about to say, Heaven didn’t trust herself to ask him—nor him to answer her.

Along with the intense passion and sensuality of the lovemaking they had just shared there had also been a heart-tugging skein of sweetness and tenderness. Or was she just imagining it? Would the spell he had woven around her by reigning in the urgency of his passion be broken if she forced him to put what he was thinking and feeling into words and then discovered that he was not sharing her thoughts and feelings after all?

So much had happened so quickly—too much and too quickly, perhaps, Heaven rationalised as they rounded a bend in the road and she could see the lights of what looked like a small village ahead of them.

‘Not much further,’ Jon told her as they drove through the village, which was picturesquely sheltered by the surrounding hills of the Borders, its stone cottages hugging the winding road, the narrowness of the humpback bridge crossing the river that Jon drove over making Heaven breathe in automatically.

Ahead of them lay what was obviously the village’s main street, its bare trees currently adorned with Christmas lights.

It had stopped snowing, the sky clearing to reveal the stars, and Heaven couldn’t stop herself from exclaiming out loud, ‘Oh, Jon, it’s so pretty! So Christmassy.’

‘It may look pretty now,’ he responded, ‘but it has a rather bloody history. The actual border with Scotland isn’t very far from here and this village was the home of border reivers from the English side of the border and the target from those from the Scots side. When a truce was finally declared it was decreed that it would be celebrated and remembered annually at Christmas
time, which means that Christmas for the villagers is a doubly special time of joy and celebration. It’s a tradition that everyone attends a special thanksgiving supper. We could go to it if you’d like?’

‘Could we…?’ Heaven began, her eyes shining, and then abruptly she stopped, reminding herself of just why she was here with Jon in the first place, the excitement dying out of her face as she asked him anxiously, ‘But Christmas is a week away and I can’t…’

‘You can’t stay…’ Jon finished quietly for her.

Heaven bit her lip and turned to look out of the car window. They had left the village behind and were starting to climb now, the road winding upwards through the hills. The snow lay more thickly on the road here, but not too thickly for Jon’s car, thank goodness.

Heaven could feel her eyes starting to close as waves of tiredness washed down over her. Sleepily she snuggled deeper into her comfortable seat and then, as Jon swung the car off the road and down a gravel drive, she sat up abruptly and asked him, ‘What on earth is that?’

‘Home,’ Jon responded, laughing, obviously enjoying her surprise.

‘Home?’ Heaven stared in bemusement at the ancient tall square slit-windowed tower looming in front of her. ‘You live here?’

‘Yes,’ Jon confirmed with a smile, bringing the car to a halt on the gravel and causing the building’s security lights to come on, further illuminating the building and the soft warm stone from which it was built.

‘But what is it?’ Heaven asked in fascination as she studied the tower’s unfamiliar shape, height and its narrow, almost slit-like windows. That it was very old was obvious.

‘A peel tower,’ Jon told her promptly, and then explained, ‘They were fortified homes built by those who lived on the border, very often, I’m afraid to say, using stone they “acquired” from Hadrian’s wall. The tower acted as a protective place of retreat for the family should they come under attack, and it has to be said that it was equally used as a means of holding captive goods and even people they themselves had purloined on their own reiving trips across the border.

‘Originally there would have been a collection of wooden shelters at the base of the tower to hold their livestock, with the family accommodation at the top of the tower where it was deemed to be safer. Because of their height the towers also served as good lookout points. On a clear day from here you can see right across the border for miles. Of course this particular tower was renovated and modernised quite some time ago—before I bought it in fact.

‘I was staying in the village some years ago and heard that it was up for sale. I’ve always loved the Borders and buying it was certainly a hell of a lot less expensive than going for a Cotswold cottage.’

‘Just imagine the stories it could tell,’ Heaven breathed.

‘Mmm…’ Jon agreed. ‘It’s said locally that one misty November night a long time ago—ideal weather for stealing your neighbour’s sheep—the then owner of this tower decided to break the truce which existed between him and his neighbour and set off to reive his cattle. When he reached the farm he discovered that the only person there was the seventeen-year-old niece of the farmer who was visiting from Edinburgh, so as well as taking his cattle he also took his neighbour’s niece.
However, apparently she was so beautiful and so good that our border reiver fell completely in love with her, and, much more unlikely, she with him, and rather than leading to another bloody feud his abduction of her led instead to a wedding.’

‘They lived happily ever after,’ Heaven laughed.

‘Can you doubt it?’ Jon laughed back as he opened his car door and went round to open Heaven’s door for her.

As she followed him towards the tower, Heaven found herself instinctively moving a little closer to him. It wasn’t that she was afraid of anything—no, of course not—but she still jumped and gave a small startled gasp as something rustled in the ivy that clothed the front wall of the tower.

‘It’s all right; it’s just an owl,’ Jon comforted her as he pushed open the door and switched on the lights, but he still took her hand in his, holding it comfortingly, and Heaven didn’t make any real attempt to pull away from him as they walked into the tower together.

As she stood with him in the hallway Heaven blinked in surprise.

‘Oh, but this is lovely,’ she enthused as she studied the plain soft cream plaster walls and the rustic iron wall sconces that held the lights. Plain coir matting covered the floor and the three doors which opened off the hallway were all of dark polished wood, like the stairs which led upwards.

‘That door leads into the kitchen,’ Jon informed her, indicating the door immediately in front of them. ‘The other two rooms are my study and a rather small, cold sitting room; the main living room is on the next floor.
Come up and I’ll show you it and the bedrooms on the floor above that.’

The living room was huge.

‘This must take up the whole of this floor,’ Heaven guessed.

‘It does,’ Jon agreed. ‘The main drawback of this place so far as I’m concerned is having the kitchen and this room on separate floors, but it’s a drawback which is more than made up for by the panoramic views you get of the countryside from here. On a clear day you can virtually see as far as the coast.’