Santa's Secret (16 page)

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever
seen, soft and moist and inviting.

God, he wanted her.

More than anything else in the world.

Eva inhaled slowly, feeling the warm,
aromatic air fill her lungs before breathing it out again. It was like being in
an incredibly steamy bathroom when she’d let the shower run for a long time,
and the air felt thick and humid, closing around her like a blanket. She’d
heard they could be quite stifling, and a friend had once told her she’d been
in one where it felt like a man had his hand clamped over her mouth and she’d
had to run out.

But Eva didn’t feel like that. She felt
sensual and sexy, aroused by the heat and the trickles of perspiration that slid
down her back and between her breasts. She knew the Finns were accustomed to
being naked in saunas and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to enter a public
one and sit there like this amongst strangers, but the thought of being there
with only Rudi to see her was enticing and compelling, stirring her blood and
making her heart rate begin to pick up in anticipation.

She opened her eyes and lowered her head,
not surprised to see him watching her. Still, she caught her breath at the
sight of him. He sat opposite, his knees about a foot away from hers. He held
the edge of the seat, leaning forwards slightly, his weight on his arms, the
muscles taut and shining like highly polished wood. In fact his whole body
glistened. He was a fine specimen of a male, from his wide neck and muscular
shoulders, to his smooth defined pecs with just the right amount of hair, to
his impressive, sturdy thighs. He sat like all men do, with knees wide apart,
and made no attempt to hide his desire for her.

Eva swallowed and moistened her lips, not
missing the way his own curved in response. He was such a gentleman, so polite
and considerate, always opened the door for her, pulled out her chair, offered
to pay for her food and treated her with respect. But something happened when
he got that look in his eye. It was as if his primitive urges suppressed his civilised
self, and passion took over from manners and courtesy. She supposed it should
have frightened her a little, or that his obvious desire should embarrass her,
but it didn’t. The thought that he wanted her—that he couldn’t or wouldn’t hide
it, turned her on too.

Part of her wanted to move over to him and
kiss him, take him in her arms, start the beautiful dance with the exquisite
conclusion she knew awaited her, but something made her wait. Maybe it was a
hope of drawing out this moment, of making it last as long as she could. At the
back of her mind the imminent conclusion of their holiday hovered, along with
the knowledge that she might never again find a man with whom she felt like
this, and she had to make the most of it while she could. Or maybe she just
wanted to admire him a little longer, to feast her gaze on his glistening
flesh, the way his hair curled around his temples as it grew damp, on his large
frame, so much more muscular and masculine than hers. On his obvious arousal,
so long, thick and hard it made her mouth water.

So she didn’t stand up, but instead leaned
back and opened her knees the same way he had, exposing herself to his view,
which felt unnatural but incredibly sensual as the warm, humid air stroked her
skin. His gaze dropped and focussed on her, his chest rising and falling as his
breathing sped up, but like her he didn’t move, clearly enjoying the view and
wanting to make the most of it too.

She put her hands on her knees and trailed
them lightly up her thighs, enjoying the touch, her fingers sliding on her damp
skin. Rudi didn’t move, his gaze glued to her hands, and she watched his eyes
follow them as they slid up the outside of her hips, trailed up her body,
circled her breasts and then continued to her neck.

She closed her eyes again, tipped back her
head and lifted her arms, brushing the back of her neck and feeling the warm
air stroking her. She arched her back a little, stretching, pushing out her
breasts, conscious of his heated gaze on them, feeling his stare almost like a
physical heat burning through her. Growing aroused now, she slid her hands down
her neck and shoulders to her breasts and traced her fingers around them.

Did she dare play with herself in front of
him? It wasn’t something she’d felt comfortable doing with Damon; he’d taken
the initiative in their lovemaking and everything had involved the fastest
route to climax with little time taken to explore each other in the way she’d
wanted.

But Rudi’s intense gaze, his obvious
desire, encouraged her on. So she cupped her breasts and ran her thumbs
experimentally over her nipples.  Because she was warm, they were relaxed and
full, swollen and engorged with the blood that raced around her body, and they
felt like soft damp velvet beneath her touch. She brushed the sensitive tips,
saw the slight answering curve of his lips, and then took her nipples between
thumb and forefinger and squeezed, feeling them harden in her fingers. Rudi
exhaled, his eyes meeting hers briefly for a moment and gleaming with wry
amusement, and she gave a little laugh, thrilled at the power she apparently
possessed over him.
He likes it,
she thought, touched and flattered. He
liked to watch her arouse herself—it turned him on.

Reassured by his dilated pupils and the way
he grew—amazingly—even more aroused, she played with her nipples a little
longer until they were like hard buds in her fingers, then slid her right hand
down her body. His eyes widened a fraction. Keeping her gaze on his face,
continuing to play with her left nipple, she slid her hand down to her knee,
then traced her fingers very slowly up the inside of her thigh.

Her skin seemed more sensitive in the heat,
and by now was coated with a fine sheen of perspiration, which let her fingers
glide easily up to her pubic hair. She stroked it, quivering as she brushed the
sensitive skin beneath, then slid her fingers down.

She was swollen—more than she’d
anticipated—and slick, her fingers slipping easily through her folds as she
moved them down inside herself. Then she brought them back up, coated with her
own moisture, to begin caressing the swelling at the top, which sent a quiver
all the way through her.

All amusement had faded from Rudi’s face,
and his expression had darkened as the primeval passion rose inside him. As
turned on by him watching as she was by her own touch, she sucked on her bottom
lip, closed her eyes and concentrated on her fingers, tugging on her nipple and
stroking more firmly between her legs. Her breasts were wet, everything made
ultra-sensitive by the heat and moisture, and as her climax hovered, a tiny
moan escaped her.

Rudi fell to his knees before her, making
her gasp. He pushed her hands away, and then his mouth was on her breast. She
tipped back her head and held her breath as he sucked hard and his tongue kneaded
her nipple, and then he kissed down her stomach and buried his mouth in her.

She clutched a hand in his hair,
half-horrified at the thought that she was sweaty and slippery, but clearly
that only turned him on, because he gave a muffled murmur of approval and then
his tongue was inside her, darting and flicking and stroking. She fell back
onto her elbows, leaned her head on the wall and gave herself over to him, and
within seconds she came, swelling and pulsing, his mouth hot and gentle as he
guided her to the finish line.

When the waves finally ebbed away, he
pushed himself to his feet, grabbed a condom she hadn’t seen him bring in and
rolled it on, pulled her to the front of the seat and without further ado,
pressed his erection between her thighs and slid into her.

Eva gasped. She was so wet and aroused
there was no friction at all, and the sensation of him filling her was amazing.
Her eyes flew open and she gazed up into his blazing blue ones, her body still
quivering from the strength of the orgasm.

“Eva,” he muttered, holding her hips,
keeping them both still, clearly just enjoying the sensation of being inside
her. “
Mina rakastan sinua
.”

Her lips curved. “You’re speaking in
Finnish.”

He stared at her, then chuckled and kissed
her mouth. “Was I?”

“Tell me in English.”

He pulled back then stroked in again
slowly. “I said, ‘You are beautiful.’”

“No you didn’t. You said
Mina
which
means I, not you.”

He shook his head. “Stop talking.” He bent
to kiss her.

She pulled back, out of his reach, and gave
him a remonstrative look. “Tell me.”

He held her gaze. “I said, ‘I am going to
fuck you now.’ Okay?”

The words sent a thrill through her and she
couldn’t stop a little gasp. “Goodness.”

“You did ask.”

“I did. I didn’t expect…”

He widened her legs and pushed forwards a
little more, causing her to exclaim as he filled her to the brim. “Yes,” he
said hoarsely. “Gasp again, Eva.”

“Rudi…”

He began to move properly, his hair falling
over his forehead as he bent to kiss her, his lips rough and his tongue delving
into her mouth.

So she arched her back and let him fuck
her, enjoy the slide of him inside her, the gleam of his skin in the dull
light, the smell of the cedar wood and herbs on the rocks, the way her body
began to respond to him again, even though she wouldn’t have thought it
possible.

Just when she thought she might be able to
come again, though, he stopped, and before she could say anything, pulled out
of her, keeping careful hold of the condom.

“What..?” She looked up, puzzled and
disappointed.

He went over to the stove, poured another
couple of ladles of water onto the rocks and then, as the room filled with
steam, he pulled her to her feet. He led her over to the wall, turned her
around and pushed her gently forwards, pinning her there with his body.

She placed her palms on the boards,
conscious of him pressed against her from shoulder to hips, feeling him hard
against her bottom, his hands hot and heavy on her hips.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured,
kissing her shoulder, then up to her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her
skin.

She tipped her head to the side to let him,
groaning as he fastened his mouth there and sucked. “Oh…”

He brought his hands up to cup her breasts,
played with her nipples, then stroked down her wet skin to her hips. Stepping back,
he brought her with him until she leaned forwards a little at the waist.

“Widen your legs,” he instructed, his deep
voice sending a shiver through her.

She did so, realising what he wanted, and
sighed as he slid a hand down between the cheeks of her bottom and underneath
her. She felt the tip of his erection press into her and she lifted her hips,
and then he pushed forwards and slid into her again.

She gave a long, heartfelt moan, dipping
her head and closing her eyes. His hands squeezed her hips, and then he moved one
around and slipped it down her front to stroke her, even as he started to move
inside her.

“Rudi,” she whispered, her senses spinning.
It was so hot, and the steam writhed around them until she almost felt as if
she were swimming, as if they were underwater. He stroked her firmly, and she
widened her legs a little more, pushing back against him, enjoying the way she
felt completely full at this angle.

His fingers tightened on her hip, and he
moved with more purpose, pulling almost out and then thrusting forwards harder,
his skin meeting hers with a wet smack, which was almost as erotic as the
thought of what they were doing.

His hand left her hip to lean on the wall
above hers, and the fingers of his other hand moved urgently through her soft
flesh, taunting and teasing her to the edge once again. “Come for me, Eva,” he
murmured, kissing her shoulder, sucking where it met her neck.

“Oh…” She was losing it again. “Rudi…”

“Come for me.”

She couldn’t do otherwise. The sensations
of her wet and slick and him hot and hard combined inside her, and the orgasm
began deep, starting with a slow tightening and then blooming into wave after
wave of pulsing contractions that made her cry out with their intensity. Rudi
murmured something else in Finnish, and then his body stiffened, and she felt
him come too, his hips jerking as he gave the last, final thrusts, the two of
them arched in pleasure, rigid in mutual gratification.

Rudi rested his forehead on her shoulder,
and she waited for his heartbeat to slow.

“
Vittu,
” he mumbled.

She giggled. “I’ll second that.”

He kissed her shoulder and withdrew gently,
disposed of the condom, turned her around and gave her a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and
nestled into his slippery embrace. The air was so thick and humid she could
almost see it swirl like water as she moved her hand.
I’ll never forget this
day,
she thought, resting her head on his chest.
Never, as long as I
live.

Rudi took her into the shower, and they washed
the sweat off each other’s bodies, enjoying the ritual beneath the cool water.

“I thought you were supposed to go outside
and roll in the snow after a sauna,” Eva said as he squeezed some more shower
gel on the sponge and soaped her body.

“Many do, but I thought it might be a bit
of a shock to the system after what we have just done.” He kissed her nose.
“Giving one’s partner a heart attack does not seem a very romantic way of
ending such a beautiful moment.”

“True.” She giggled.

He turned off the water and they stepped
out and dried each other off, then went into the main room of the cabin and
crawled beneath the covers of the bed. They still had just under an hour to go
before they had to collect the kids, so Eva curled up and Rudi pulled her
against his chest again and, propped on the pillows, they lay and looked out at
the snowy fields.

 “I wish we could lie here forever,” Eva
whispered.

He nuzzled her hair, kissed her neck.
“Shall we say we will lay here until the sun comes up?”

“I thought the sun didn’t rise at all for
weeks?”

“Exactly.”

He’d meant to make her laugh, but instead
she just fell quiet, and he realised she must be thinking about the fact that
it was Christmas Eve, and although they had Christmas Day left, after that it
would be time to say goodbye. A wave of sorrow swept over him, so strong it
made him catch his breath. She’d come into his life like the angel Isabel had
coloured and covered in glitter, sitting on the table in front of the TV. He’d
not believed it possible, but Eva had made him realise that the magic of
Christmas didn’t have to vanish when one became an adult; that it was still
possible to retain the joy of childhood into maturity, even though one knew the
truth about Santa and Rudolph.

Her breathing had grown regular, and he
realised she had fallen asleep.

He rested his head on his hand and looked
out at the snow. He wished he’d met Eva before Isabel had been told the truth
about Christmas. When she’d come home upset that the boy had told her Rudolph
wasn’t real, he should have taken the time to sit and explain that although
that might be the case, Christmas could still be magical. He’d thought the
truth would prepare her for the harsh reality of life. But instead all he’d
done was to take away the magic completely.

His throat tightened. Poor Isabel. He could
blame his father for his own attitude towards Christmas, blame Vanessa for his
marriage failing, but ultimately he couldn’t blame anyone for the way he’d
acted towards his daughter. He’d directed his own disappointment and
frustrations onto her, and all he had done was make things worse.

He looked at Eva, at the curve of her cheek
and the shell of her ear, her pale skin still flushed and warm from the sauna,
her damn hair curling around her neck. What he felt for her was as fragile and
delicate as a snowflake, but that didn’t make it any less wonderful. And
although he knew if he tried to catch it and examine it, it would melt away,
that didn’t mean he shouldn’t enjoy for what it was—a piece of Christmas
beauty, a moment of magic.

He lay there for half an hour, letting his
thoughts flurry in his mind like the snow outside, and then he woke Eva up and
kissed her for a bit before they rose to get dressed.

They walked back slowly to pick up the
kids, holding hands.

“What would you like to do this evening?”
he asked. “Dinner?”

“That would be nice. I might put Oscar down
for a nap first though—he was very tired yesterday after coming back from the
club, and otherwise he’ll be up terribly early in the morning.”

“Of course. Perhaps we can meet up at six?
It will give us something to do for a few hours before the excitement of
waiting for Santa.” He couldn’t put a lot of enthusiasm into the smile. Santa’s
Secret Village offered the option of having Santa deliver the children’s
presents late in the evening, but he hadn’t bothered to book it because what
was the point when Isabel had seen her presents and had picked out the art set
he’d bought for her? “Did you book Santa?”

“No,” she admitted. “Because of the jet lag
I thought Oscar could be asleep really early and I didn’t want to wake him up
for it or he’d never get back to sleep. Now I kind of wish I had—it would have
been fun, I suppose. But there you go.”

They arrived at the Centre and went through
to the Little Elves room, laughing as they saw Isabel and Oscar in the middle
of a game. They were both wearing dressing up outfits—Isabel had a princess
dress on over her clothes and Oscar wore a reindeer suit complete with antlers
over his, and they were completing some kind of obstacle course, clambering
over large cubes and through tunnels the elves had set up for them. As they
watched, Oscar gave a squeal, unable to get up onto one of the cubes. Isabel
stopped immediately and turned to help him, making Eva cover her mouth with a
hand and Rudi say, “Oh. How sweet.” She’d really taken to the boy, he thought.

A shame she’ll probably never have any
brothers or sisters.

The realisation hit him like a snowball,
just as shocking. He honestly hadn’t thought about it before. He’d known he
wouldn’t stay celibate forever and would one day meet someone who’d help him
move on from Vanessa, but he’d assumed it would be a fling, a physical affair.
He’d had no intention of getting married again, and certainly not of bringing
any more children into the world.

But now, watching Eva pick up Oscar and
hold Isabel’s hand as they walked back towards him, he realised how much he had
turned his back on. Marriage didn’t have to be about arguments, irritation,
frustration and compromise all the time. It was also about companionship, about
sharing one’s life, about making a family and being safe and secure, as well as
about sharing oneself physically.

Or was he fooling himself? Was he just
caught up in the moment? Did all marriages disintegrate in the cold light of
morning, like waking up on Christmas Day when the presents were opened and the
dinner eaten, when all the magic had gone and all that was left were wrapping
paper and the scraps of turkey and a whole lot of washing up? Did love last? Or
did it truly melt like the snow as the weeks turned to months and then to
years?

He kissed Isabel on the forehead as she ran
up to him, and then they all walked out and across the park to the cabins
again.

“Time for Oscar to have a rest,” Rudi said
to Isabel when she complained, “and then we will have dinner together, okay?”

Eva took her son into their cabin, and he
went into his with Isabel and closed the door.

“I’m not tired,” Isabel said in Finnish.

“Of course not,” he agreed. “But Oscar
needs a rest—he’s still a baby, really.”

“I suppose.” She looked over at the TV.
“I’ll do some colouring.”

He hesitated. He hadn’t done any work for
ages—God knew how many emails were waiting for him. But almost certainly there
wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait. It was Christmas Eve, and he was alone with
his daughter.

“How about a game?” he asked. “I saw
several in the cabinet under the TV.”

Her face lit up. “Are you sure, Daddy? I
thought you might have to work.”

“And miss time with my little girl?” He
smiled. “Go on, choose something and we’ll have a play.”

So Isabel hurriedly took off her coat and
boots and skipped over to the cabinet, and Rudi also took off his coat and
poured them both a glass of lemonade before joining her on the sofa. She’d
picked out Operation, and was busy putting the relevant bones into the
patient’s body and dishing out the money.

“Ready, Daddy? You can go first, pick a
card.” She tapped the board as he turned the first one over. “You have to take
out his funny bone—that’s in his elbow. Go on! I bet you can’t.”

He was going to fudge it but didn’t have to
because the little sucker was a tricky one and the buzzer sounded without him
having to pretend to fail. He sighed and gave her the tweezers as she giggled.

“Go on then, Miss Perfect. Let’s see you
have a go.”

Of course, with her tiny dextrous fingers
she managed it first time and crowed triumphantly before picking the next card.

They passed a pleasant forty-five minutes
playing a couple of different games, and then Rudi’s mobile rung where he’d
left it on the table. He picked it up, and his heart sank as he saw
Vanessa
come up on the screen. He really didn’t want to talk to her, and she’d probably
rung for Isabel anyway.

“It’s your mother,” he said. “Do you want
to answer it?”

Isabel took the phone obediently. “Okay,
Daddy.” She flipped it open and answered. “Hello?”

Rudi stood and left her to it, went over to
the main phone and called the restaurant to book a table. Then he went into the
bathroom and took the wet towels he and Eva had used, folded them and left them
in the sauna, tidied up in there to make sure it was clean, and tried not to
look longingly at the bench where he had sat with her only a couple of hours
before, with her naked and glistening and touching herself in such a sexy and
abandoned manner that he’d nearly come on the spot.

Sighing, he went back into the bathroom and
put his hand on the door handle. Then he stopped, hearing Isabel’s raised
voice.

“It was one ice cream,” Isabel snapped.
“Stop fussing.”

Vanessa obviously berated her harshly then,
because Isabel fell quiet. Rudi frowned. Vanessa hated her eating anything but
wholesome fruit and vegetables. But it was Christmas, for God’s sake. Couldn’t
she relax just a bit and let the child enjoy herself?

It remained quiet, so he opened the door
and went into the room, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. Isabel
stood in front of the TV. Her blonde hair, loosened from its braids, had fallen
forwards as she looked at her feet, and he couldn’t see her face.

“No,” he heard her say eventually. She
lifted her head then, and the mutinous look on her face surprised him.

She saw him, ran towards him, almost threw
the phone at him, then went into the bathroom and locked the door.

He looked at the phone, saw the light still
on and held it to his ear. “Vanessa?”

“I don’t know what’s got into that girl,”
his ex-wife said bitterly in Finnish. “She is so rude! That’s what having ice
cream does for children, Rudi.”

“It has nothing to do with ice cream,” he
said as mildly as he could manage. “What did you say to her?”

“I just…” Vanessa fell quiet.

Rudi waited, used to the dramas she always
brought with her. But she didn’t speak, and that was unusual. “What’s the
matter?” he pressed.

“I wish I hadn’t yelled at her,” she said
softly. “I didn’t mean to. I only ever want the best for her.”

He sighed. “I know.” He walked over to the
window, looking out at the twilight sky that was starting to darken to a deep
midnight-blue. What was Eva doing now? Was she thinking about him?

“Rudi, I…” Another pause. “I wondered…I
know it’s late, but I wondered if I could fly up and join you for Christmas Day?”

He stared out at the view. “What?”

“There’s a last minute flight up—I’d be
there by ten o’clock, and then I could watch Isabel open her presents in the
morning. I miss her. I didn’t think I’d mind not seeing her at Christmas, but I
realised I do.”

He massaged his forehead with his hand. “I
don’t understand. What’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened. I just want to see my
daughter.” Her voice had taken on a defensive tone, but he knew her better than
that.

“Vanessa, the last thing I heard you were
going to Rome and there’s no way you’d give that up unless something had
happened.”

She went quiet again, and he closed his
eyes and wished he hadn’t spoken so harshly. She always did this to him, drove
him to the point where he couldn’t hold in the words, like a Christmas stocking
stuffed with too many presents.

“He left me,” she said.

The lack of drama in her voice made Rudi open
his eyes and blink with surprise. “What?”

“Stefan. He left me two days ago.” Her
voice was flat and unemotional. She didn’t cry either, and that only made her reaction
more genuine. “I wasn’t going to ring you, Rudi, I swear. I don’t mean to be
dramatic. I know it’s not fair on either of you.”

He let out a long, frustrated sigh and ran
his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sure you’re not, but thank you anyway.
Look, I’m really not expecting anything—I’m not looking for a big reunion. I
just thought it might be nice to see Isabel.”

He leaned on the window. It was a perfectly
legitimate request. How could he say no? In many ways he hated her for what
she’d done to him—for making him feel as if love was a fabrication, for making
him hard and cynical, but was that truly all her fault? Or did it have roots in
his past, in how his father had made him feel over the years? He didn’t love
her, but she was the mother of his child. Could he really tell her she couldn’t
spend Christmas with her daughter? What kind of person did that make him?