Authors: Melody Anne
W
hitney couldn’t sleep.
She was more attached to Christmas than even the children were — how was that possible? — and this year was more intense than most. The last few days had been enchanted.
True, Liam was playing the gentleman, damn his hide. He’d paid her every attention but the one she most wanted in the days after the fundraising ball. His goodnight kisses just weren’t enough. But she’d take what she could get.
Yes, she’d told him she wouldn’t go back to bed with him again, but after being in his arms for hours while he caressed her skin, kissed her lips, her neck, her shoulders — well, a girl could change her mind.
But she wouldn’t beg him to take her, especially not after she’d so emphatically told him she didn’t want him. Oh, the tangled web she’d weaved. Or was it
woven
?
It didn’t help her nerves when the grandfather clock out in the hall started to chime midnight. Were these aristocrats insane? She was never going to get any rest. She decided to climb out from her bed and sneak into the kitchen for a cup of herbal tea. Chamomile sounded about right.
When she cracked her door open and started to tiptoe down the hall, she heard another sound, and then she saw Ally standing there.
“What are you still doing awake?” Whitney asked her niece.
“I can’t sleep, Auntie. I’m so afraid Santa won’t find us here.” The poor little girl seemed to be on the verge of tears.
“Oh, baby, of course he’ll find us. Why don’t you come to the kitchen with me? I’ll get us something to drink that will help us get back to sleep. And when we wake up … you’ll see the magic.”
They thought they were being so sneaky as they crept downstairs, but the rest of the household appeared to be awake too. Brayden looked up with a guilty grin, as did Liam, who with just one glance made Whitney’s toes curl. For a man who didn’t live in the house, he sure seemed to be there all the time. Was it to torture her?
“It seems that we’ve all had the same idea,” she said as she and Ally joined them at the large table in the corner. Even Darcy was there and bustling about.
“I haven’t been this excited about Christmas since I was a young boy,” Liam said with a laugh, a laugh that Whitney felt she’d be happy to hear every day for the rest of her life.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Mr. Smotter said. “I never stay up so late.”
When they were finishing their tea, Frederick entered the room. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said. “Come quickly!”
Whitney was concerned by the urgency in his voice. She hoped nothing was wrong, not on this day of days. They all followed Frederick down the hallway and piled in behind him when he disappeared inside a door.
Whitney gasped at the sight of Santa stacking presents beneath a massive tree. She couldn’t believe how real the fellow looked — this was no mall Santa. She turned to look at Ally, who was beaming.
“Oh, my goodness, it looks as if you’ve caught me,” Santa said with a loud chuckle.
Ally immediately ran across the room and flung herself into his arms.
“I knew you were real, Santa,” she said as two tears trickled down her cheeks.
He returned her hug. “Of course I’m real, my beautiful Ally,” he told her.
“You know my name,” she gasped in total awe.
“I’m sorry, Ally,” Brayden said to his sister. “I guess I was wrong.”
Whitney was so happy with the way her nephew had changed and grown during the time they’d spent at the Felton mansion. The boy was going to become a fine young man.
Ally threw her brother the most joyful of smiles, but she wouldn’t let Santa go.
“I have a special gift for you because you’ve been such a good girl,” Santa said to her. Whitney recognized the gift she’d snuck beneath the tree the night before — the one from the package she’d received a couple of weeks ago. How did Santa know what was in it? Did he know who’d sent it? She suspected that her questions weren’t going to be answered.
Ally gasped as Santa handed her the present wrapped in shiny paper, and she looked at it reverently before opening it without damaging the wrapping. Inside the box was a heart-shaped locket with a picture of her mom and dad inside. Santa placed it around her neck and said, “Your parents love you very much, little Ally, and they’re always watching out for you.”
Whitney was overcome with emotion, and she turned toward Frederick with gratitude shining in her eyes. It had to be from him, though he seemed to be as surprised as she was. But still, this was all because of him, and he’d truly given the best gift he could to her niece — the gift of love from her parents.
“Thank you so much,” Ally said as she threw her arms around Santa again.
Whitney wiped a tear from her own cheek, and after giving Frederick a big hug and an affectionate kiss, went to retrieve her niece from Santa’s embrace and sit down next to her. Santa passed out the rest of his gifts and then quietly slipped away.
“Aren’t you going to open your present, Brayden?” Whitney asked as the boy put his large box on his lap without tearing the wrapping.
“I thought we had to wait till morning,” he said, as if he were afraid of what might be in the box.
“I think that since Santa brought these, it’s okay to open them,” she told him. “We’ll save the rest until morning.”
Her nephew finally began taking off the wrapping. When he pulled out the quilt inside, Whitney’s eyes overflowed with tears. And for once Brayden didn’t hold back his own tears. Whitney had no idea how this gift had been pulled off.
Last year her sister had been trying desperately to get a quilt finished for each of the children before Christmas. She’d finished Ally’s, but she’d only gotten halfway through with Brayden’s. Whitney didn’t know how to sew, and when she’d found the project Brayden had been with her. She’d offered to take it to a seamstress to have it finished, but he’d grown angry and insisted that he didn’t need it — didn’t want it.
So the unfinished project had been tucked away. Who had found it? Who had completed it? Did they really have a Christmas angel? The quilt was sewn with pieces from his first baby blanket and his first outfits. And there were pictures of Brayden and his parents on some of the squares, and quotes from his mother. This truly was a piece of his mom that would comfort him for the rest of his life.
But who had found it? Who had completed it?
Whitney again looked at Frederick, but there was nothing in his expression that showed he was behind it. And Liam looked as in awe of the quilt as she was.
“It’s wonderful, Brayden,” Whitney finally said, moving over to her nephew and pulling him to her side. The lovely quilt fell over them both now.
“It is,” he choked out. “I miss her so much.”
“So do I, darling,” Whitney told him.
“But I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to be angry. I just want to remember the good, like in this picture — last baseball season when we won the championships. Mom and Dad rushed out on the field and you took the picture.” It was a photo with Vincent holding Brayden high in the air, and Maxine hugging them both. All of them were wreathed in smiles.
“I think nothing would make them happier than that,” his aunt said to the boy.
There was a moment of silence as the entire family came to terms with their loss, and then Frederick stood up and moved toward the piano.
“How about some Christmas songs before we turn in for the night?”
Liam stood up and joined his father. He sat down at the piano and started playing, and everyone joined in on a mesmerizing version of “Silent Night.” Frederick moved back over to the couch to sit between Ally and Brayden when Whitney walked over to sit on the piano bench beside her lover.
After a few rounds of Christmas carols, though, she noticed that her niece was nodding off. It was time for bed. The early morning light was starting to slip through the curtains, and they’d all be lucky to get a few hours of sleep before excitement got them out of bed again for a holiday breakfast and, yes, more gifts.
“I think we’ll get you tucked in now,” she told Ally. “When you wake up, it will officially be Christmas morning and we’ll have a lot more to do.”
“But I’m not tired, Auntie,” Ally said. A loud yawn belied those brave words.
“I know you’re not, but we’ll try to get some sleep anyway. I’ll read you another bedtime story.”
Ally rubbed her eyes and reluctantly agreed. Liam walked with them to Ally’s room. Before the story was even halfway finished, the little girl was sound asleep.
“You’ve done an amazing job with these children,” Liam told her as they paused together at her bedroom door.
“I love them more than anything. I wish my sister and Vincent could be around to watch them through the years, but I’m so grateful that at least I can help them grow since their parents can’t.”
“Don’t you see that their parents are here?” Liam told her. “They’re here each time the children laugh, each time something good happens, and even each time a tear falls. I know my brother would want no one to raise them but you. You’re incredible.”
“Thank you for giving us this healing Christmas,” Whitney said.
Liam reached down to brush his lips against hers.
“Thank you for showing me that there’s more to life than just work. And for helping me to heal the anger that’s been eating away at me for so long. That’s all because of you.”
“Do you really mean that, Liam, or did you just say it because you think it’s what I want or need to hear?” She’d never felt more vulnerable than she did now.
“I’ll admit that I’ve been confused, but I’m not just spouting lines,” he told her.
She stood there for several moments before taking a step forward and putting her hands on his face. How she loved the slight scratchiness of the stubble on his fine jaw.
“Please come inside with me, Liam.”
She whispered those words, but there was no doubt that he’d heard them. He opened her door without releasing his grip on her.
How could she possibly let go of this man? She had no earthly idea. But it was too late to dwell on that now.
L
iam lifted Whitney
into his arms and carried her to the bed. After laying her down, he gazed upon her, his eyes burning with a need that sent waves of pleasure through her. And he wasn’t even touching her now.
“I’ve so missed seeing you like this,” he said with a groan as he began stripping his clothes away. The sight made her mouth water.
“Then why haven’t you shared a bed with me in the last few days?” she asked in a voice that she’d hoped would sound casual. But she knew that she’d failed miserably.
“Because I wanted to show you — and myself — that this is more than just sex, that we can be more.”
She didn’t know how to reply to that. She felt the same way, but her fears prevented her from acknowledging it. Plus, now wasn’t the time to talk. It was the time to make love — to show how they felt, not speak about it.
Liam must have come to the same conclusion, because he climbed onto the bed and straddled her, trapping her legs and holding her captive. He gripped the bottom hem of her shirt and lifted it, blinding her for a moment as he pulled it over her head.
Next he unclasped the front of her bra, then slid the straps down her shoulders, trailing his fingers across her skin and leaving a blaze of fire in their wake. He tossed the bra aside and ran his hands back up her arms, across her neck, and downward, only stopping when he was cupping her swollen breasts.
“Mmm, you’re so responsive. I love the way your nipples reach for my palms, the way your legs quiver beneath mine. I love that hitch in your breathing, and the embers glowing in your eyes.”
He moved his hands lower to caress her stomach, but he quickly brought them back up and stroked her cheeks, and he leaned down, took her lips, and sipped at her deep sigh.
Before she could grab hold of him, he dragged his lips tenderly across her jaw and down her neck, and then he took his time licking each of her nipples. But he was drawn down inexorably to her flat belly.
While his lips worked their magic on her skin, he undid her slacks and began pushing them away, and he tasted her thighs, her calves, and even the soles of her soft feet while he freed her from the rest of her clothing.
He began kissing his way back up her body, slowly, reverently, thoroughly, leaving her quivering and weak. By the time he finally sucked one peaked nipple into his warm mouth, she was ready to explode. She arched up from the bed in ecstasy.
While he laved her breasts, her stomach tightened, her core heated and grew agonizingly wet, preparing her, tormenting her, and delighting her all at once.
“I want you inside me, Liam. Please.” She had no qualms about begging right now. She had to have him.
“Are you mine, Whitney — only mine?” he asked as he continued circling her breasts with his tongue and hands. She was most certainly his to command.
Her response was a moan of acceptance. She grasped at his back, and the fine sheen of sweat coating his skin from the heat of their foreplay turned her on even more — if that was possible.
She’d brought him to this state by only responding to him, and she felt desirable, wanted, and seductive.
But she wanted more.
She wriggled beneath him, opening her thighs and pushing upward. She needed him now, and he needed her.
“I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you, Whitney. Just you — only you,” he growled.
“Yes, Liam. Only you, too.”
He took hold of her hip and poised himself right at her core, and then he dipped inside of her, but gave her only an inch.
She whimpered in frustration.
Finally, he bent forward and kissed her with such tenderness, such … love, that tears sprung to her eyes. She reached for him, wanting to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back and looked at her with a burning passion.
She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
Liam at long last pushed forward, slipping inside her in a slow, controlled thrust that opened her fully to him. She cried out when their hips were pressed together and the two of them became one.
“I can barely control myself when I’m with you, when I’m inside you,” he moaned. His eyes were dilated and his breathing heavy as he rested there within her.
“Then lose control, Liam. Lose yourself in me.”
His fingers tightened on her hip and he gave a low rumble from his chest. Yes, this was what she wanted. The slow and beautiful lovemaking had made her his again, and now she wanted to finish with heat and uncontrollable passion.
With a load groan, he pulled back and then thrust forward again, this time harder, shaking her roughly but exquisitely. She felt herself closing in on the ultimate pleasure. And then there were no more pauses; there was no more holding back. He began moving faster, plunging in and pulling nearly out before surging forward again.
Each time he sank within her, the pleasure intensified, bringing her higher and higher, closer and closer.
Greedy now for more, greedy for it all, Whitney gripped his back and wrapped one leg around him as she met him thrust for thrust. She kept forgetting to breathe, but they found a perfect rhythm anyway.
And then they crashed together and her entire body went up in flames. Wave after wave of wild sensation washed through her and encompassed every atom of her body.
Yet he didn’t let up, and the explosions within her grew more and more powerful. A cry was ripped from her.
Liam’s shout of ecstasy joined hers as he slammed deep inside her, his body shaking from the power of his release.
Both of them were exhausted, and both of them well sated. They took a long while to get their breathing under control.
“I’m sorry. I have to be crushing you,” he murmured before turning over to lie beside her.
“That … that was … indescribable,” she whispered.
What was she feeling now? She had no idea. But she knew for sure that walking away from this man would mean leaving a piece of herself behind.
“I agree, Whitney. Give me a few minutes to recover and we’ll see what comes next.”
“I don’t think I could do that again,” she told him. “Though I’m willing to give it my best shot.”
He laughed, shocking her at the joy that seemed to be radiating from him.
“That sounded like a challenge, Ms. Steele,” he said before climbing back on top of her. “And I never could resist a challenge.”
He kissed her, this time hard and long. And to her amazement, and her utter delight, she felt his manhood hardening against her core.
“Yes …”
That was the last of their talking for the rest of the night.