Pitch Black: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 1) (24 page)

Luke arrived home that evening to find the kitchen looking like a crime scene. Tia and I had arranged stools in front of the oven so we could watch our cake cook through the glass window.

“I’ve just had mother on the phone,” he said. “Apparently Mrs. Wilkinson from the bridge club called her to say she saw someone looking remarkably like Tia riding round Sainsbury’s in a trolley this afternoon, holding a turkey in her lap and wearing a Santa hat.”

“Really?” I was careful to maintain a neutral expression.

“Mother was horrified, said it was most unladylike. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Of course not,” said Tia.

“Had Mrs. Wilkinson been drinking?” I asked, not daring to make eye contact with my partner in crime.

“Hmmph.” Luke didn’t look entirely convinced, but chose to head upstairs.

“The Santa hat was a nice touch. What did you do with it, anyway?” I asked.

“I stuffed it in the cupboard above the blender.”

The kitchen timer dinged. Well, here we go. My first cake. It was a bit of a team effort, really. Tia read the instructions off the internet while I measured and mixed. I just hoped it turned out edible.

I grabbed a tea towel, fetched it from the oven and put it on the counter.

“It looks cooked,” said Tia, peering at it. “But why is one side lower than the other?”

“Hell, I don’t know.” I gave it a prod. “Maybe that side got hotter or something.”

“We could hide it with icing.”

“Or cut a bit off. We’ll manage something, don’t worry.”

We would be having a good Christmas, of that I was determined.

Chapter 24

THE NEXT MORNING, I got out of bed early. I wanted to be up before Tia to give Luke the first part of his Christmas present, which was, well, me.

I checked my hair in the bathroom mirror and brushed my teeth, then wrapped myself up in a red satin ribbon, centring the bow over my breasts. A pair of stilettos and the Santa hat, which I’d retrieved from the kitchen cupboard, completed the ensemble. Just in case Tia rose early, I slipped into the short silk robe Luke had bought me the week before. Running into his sister almost naked wouldn’t be a great start to the day.

I tiptoed along the hallway to Luke’s room and crept through the door. The look on his face when I shed the robe and woke him with a kiss said my efforts had been worth it. He was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled the bow undone.

“Best Christmas present ever,” he breathed.

“Lie back, hot stuff, I’m doing all the work this morning.”

He settled his head back onto the pillow, and I feathered kisses over his chest. I felt a hitch in mine as my heart skipped a beat. It would be impossible to get sick of this man’s body. I moved slowly downwards, rewarded by Luke’s sharp intake of breath as my mouth closed over its prize.

When he neared the edge, I rose to my knees then lowered myself onto him until he filled me completely. It was time for my morning workout and I didn’t mean the gym.

“Hurry up baby, I’m not gonna last long,” Luke urged.

I stopped moving. “Patience is a virtue.”

“And lust is a sin. I prefer that one.”

I was no saint, so I gave in and obliged him. And myself, obviously.

Afterwards, I lay there, boneless, draped over Luke, lazily kissing along his jawline. I confess, this Christmas present was for me as well as him. Gradually his breathing slowed, and he dropped into a slumber.

I stayed with him, his arms wrapped round me, careful not to fall asleep myself. The moment was bittersweet. Luke was a beautiful man, inside and out. In sleep, he looked younger, without the worries that usually haunted his face. He was kind and gentle, generous and thoughtful. One day, he’d make somebody a wonderful husband, but it couldn’t be me.

I sensed Luke’s feelings were becoming deeper, and sooner or later, he’d want more commitment from me. Commitment I couldn’t offer. Right now, being in Lower Foxford made me happy, and it was tempting to stay. Luke was easy to live with, and I saw potential in Tia. Life was good. So why did I have a problem? Well, it wasn’t my life.

Work may have been challenging and unpleasant at times, but for years I’d believed it was what I’d been put on this planet to do. Conflict raged with in me—should I stick with straightforward or return to my destiny?

If I stayed, would I be able to keep my past a secret? In the short term it was easy, but what if Luke fancied a holiday? Or wanted me to accompany him to functions? Staying within the boundaries of the village forever wasn’t an option.

My thoughts were interrupted by Tia hammering on the door.

“Come on, get up! It’s Christmas and there’re presents to open! Hurry up and get your clothes on.”

Luke stirred awake. “Tell me again, why did we let her move in?”

“Because she’s your sister and you love her dearly.”

“Not at this moment I don’t.”

Tia decided to open half of her presents before lunch and save the rest for later. Either her mother was shit at buying gifts or she’d delegated the task to Mrs. Squires. Tia’s delights included a Barry Manilow CD, fluffy dice for a car she wasn’t old enough to drive and a pair of comedy socks meant for a three to five year old.

“Lame,” she said. I couldn’t blame her. Someone had clearly put seconds of thought into that little lot.

She brightened up when I suggested we start cooking Christmas dinner. I didn’t share her enthusiasm.

Tia found a YouTube video on how to prepare a turkey, and I followed the instructions, more or less. My assistant wasn’t much help, mainly because she couldn’t stop laughing.

“If you ever tell anyone I was standing here with my hand stuck up a turkey’s arse, I’ll kill you,” I said.

“I wasn’t planning to tell anyone, I was just going to put a photo on Facebook.”

“No, you’re not!”

Fortunately she couldn’t run away with her ankle strapped up, so it was easy enough to grab her phone and delete the offending picture.

“Spoilsport.”

Luke came in. “Are you two going to stop messing around and cook? Or are we going to have Christmas dinner for breakfast?”

“Okay, okay,” I grumbled.

Tia stuck her tongue out. “Slave driver.”

Dinner made it to the table by early evening. It was without doubt the worst I’d ever eaten, but Tia’s happiness was infectious.

“That was so much fun,” she squealed. “This is the best Christmas ever!”

“The cake tasted all right,” said Luke. “I liked the skiing snowmen. How did you get it to slope downhill like that?”

I tapped my nose. “Trade secret.”

TV repeats were the order of the evening. We sat around the fire wearing dodgy jumpers Tia had dredged up.

“You have to wear them,” she insisted. “It wouldn’t be Christmas otherwise.”

Hers had a tree with sparkly tinsel. Mine depicted a snowman and the red nose on Luke’s reindeer lit up. The true meaning of Christmas, twenty-first century style. We opened the rest of the presents while drinking a nice bottle of red.

“Tia shouldn’t have wine,” Luke said.

“Oh, let her have a glass. If she’s going to become an adult, she needs to be treated like one.”

I mean, at sixteen I’d been drinking a lot more than wine, and look how I’d turned out. Okay, so maybe that was a bad example.

Tia got a top from Arabella, and Luke had bought her a stack of gift cards from both of us. She’d got him a model racing car and a spa voucher for me. I’d never been a “spa day” sort of girl, but I appreciated the sentiment, especially considering she hadn’t been speaking to me a few days before.

Maybe I should try to relax? After all, the last time I went to a spa was on a stakeout. Surely I’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to eavesdrop on a senator’s ex-wife? I unwrapped my next gift, an iPod from Luke.

He gave me a shy smile. “You said you wanted one for running.”

“That was ages ago. I’m impressed you remembered.”

“I can’t lie—I saved a note on my phone.”

The card I gave Luke contained a note telling him to take the twenty-seventh off.

“What for?” he asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Is it anything like this morning’s surprise? I’d take the whole week off for that.”

“La la la,” sang Tia, stuffing her fingers in her ears. “Guys, I don’t want to know.”

We spent Boxing Day pigging out on chocolate and lazing around the house. It was a pleasant contrast to last year when I’d parachuted out of a plane into a territory where the inhabitants didn’t celebrate Christmas. The day after, I enlisted Tia’s help to distract Luke while I snuck his snowboard and warm clothes into the boot of his car.

“He still doesn’t know where you’re going,” she whispered.

“Good. Are you coming to watch?”

“Ooh, can I?”

“Why not?”

I gave directions, and when we pulled up outside the Snozone in Milton Keynes, Luke’s face lit up.

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen snow. I never even thought of going indoor snowboarding,” he said.

It had been a while since I’d been on snow too. Over a year, in fact. My husband had a chalet in Chamonix, where the snow was perfect in winter and we could go climbing in summer, but we’d been too busy to go recently. I was sixteen on my first trip there, and I got hooked, first on skiing, then later on snowboarding.

With Chamonix came memories of friends and fun. And maybe a tiny bit of alcohol. I recalled the drunken bet that resulted in my husband and I skiing off a mountain, James Bond style. My parachute had the Union Jack, his the Stars and Stripes. The Snozone would be tame in comparison.

I tried to block those thoughts from my mind, not wanting the man I missed so terribly to cast a shadow over the day. But he was always there, lurking. I pasted on a smile as I rented myself a snowboard, while Luke went to change.

By the time we reached the top of the slope, I felt a little happier.

“Ready?” Luke asked.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

We took off, racing for the bottom, and it turned out we were pretty evenly matched. Before long, we headed over to the rails and jumps of the freestyle course.

“Nice,” said Luke, as I flew through the air.

“Not bad yourself.”

Of course, our competitive streaks emerged, and we tried to outdo each other. Tia declared herself the judge and pronounced it a draw.

“Thank goodness for that,” Luke said, stretching out his legs. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Not as good as your last surprise, but a close second.” He drew me in for a kiss. “Maybe we could come again?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“By the way, where the hell did you learn to snowboard? I worked as an instructor, yet you were matching me at every turn.”

“My parents started me young, and I used to go each year with my ex.” I shrugged. “I picked it up over the years.”

Every time I lied to Luke, the pit I was digging myself got a little deeper. It would be a tough climb out.