Rags To Riches Collection. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ question about her mother the previous night. He was grateful now—so grateful—that Nicola had answered the way she had. There might be tears over Fran before the day was through, but Nicola was right—he could only control those things that lay in his power. Fran did not come under that particular banner. He could rest safe in the knowledge that he’d done everything he could to give his girls the Christmas they deserved. But rather than Ella or Holly, his gaze returned constantly to Nicola.

      * * *

      Nicola, Dee and Verity laughed in unison when they unwrapped their gifts from each other—they’d bought one another silk scarves, admired together from the same website. The children all momentarily glanced up from the Amazing Facts picture books and activity packs that Nicola had bought for them, but they quickly went back to oohing and ahhing over their pictures. Cade shot Harry a surreptitious glance to find she was grinning too, and sporting her Wonder Woman apron—again, one of Nicola’s gifts—with pride.

      He stretched his legs out, leaned back and savoured the moment. Then he seized two presents from beneath the tree and placed them into Nicola’s lap.

      She glanced up at him with a shy smile. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You’re welcome. Now open them.’

      She tore the wrapping paper from the first, grinned and rolled her eyes. ‘What are you trying to do to my waistline?’ she demanded, holding up the biggest jar of chocolate-coated sultanas he’d been able to find.

      ‘A little indulgence is good for the soul,’ he countered, and then had to drag his gaze from her mouth. That wasn’t the kind of indulgence he’d meant.

      He watched as she unwrapped the second gift. Her soft ‘Oh!’ and wide eyes were the only thanks he needed.

      ‘What did you get?’ Dee demanded.

      Nicola held up her bounty. ‘Novels,’ she said, and her eyes shone. ‘Romance novels.’

      ‘Ooh, that looks like a good story,’ Dee said, ‘and I love that author.’

      ‘Let me see,’ Verity said. ‘Oh, I’ve read that one. It’s fabulous!’

      But Nicola wasn’t looking at Dee or Verity, who were admiring the cache of books. She was staring straight at him with an expression that made him push his shoulders back.

      ‘You remembered.’

      ‘I did.’ It occurred to him that, as far as Nicola went, there’d be very little he’d ever forget. Her eyes and her smile told him he’d given her the perfect present. It hadn’t been much, but her true delight in the gift moved him far more than he’d expected. It made him suddenly awkward. It made him wish he could buy her a whole library of romance novels if that would make her happy.

      ‘Open yours,’ she urged with a nod towards his present under the tree. ‘It’s just something little. A joke really,’ she said.

      Her eyes danced and anticipation fizzed through him. He didn’t need a second bidding. He seized the present and tore off the paper. He stared for a moment and then started to laugh. She’d given him the largest box of assorted chocolates and sweets he’d ever seen with a big Beware sticker plastered across the front. The accompanying note read: Please eat in moderation! Somehow she’d taken a bad memory, a moment of awfulness, and had turned it into something he could laugh about.

      As he made a move to kiss her cheek, a second item fell out, wrapped in bubble-wrap. Intrigued, he unrolled it, and then a grin spread across his face. In his hand he held a finely wrought pewter figurine of a boxer.

      Nicola grinned back at him. ‘I couldn’t resist.’

      Verity stared from one to the other. ‘I sense there’s a story there.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ Nicola conceded. ‘Though maybe it’s more of a private joke.’

      Her tact touched him, but he had no such qualms. ‘Very private,’ he declared, ‘as I have no intention of ever telling anyone how you managed to flatten me when I gave you a boxing lesson.’

      Dee promptly held her hand up and Nicola high-fived her. ‘What can I say?’ she said mock modestly. ‘Horse-riding and boxing—it appears I’m a natural at both.’

      When Dee and Verity had turned away, caught up in admiring Keith’s gift to Verity—a lovely opal bracelet—Nicola nodded towards the tree again. That was when he saw a second present sporting his name on the gift tag in Nicola’s handwriting. ‘That one is from Ella and Holly.’

      He glanced at his daughters and then ripped off the paper to find a photo frame—obviously decorated by them, no doubt with Nicola’s assistance. While he instantly loved the haphazard stars and lopsided flowers painted on the frame, it was the photo that caught his attention, and held it.

      Ella and Holly didn’t just smile from the frame and they didn’t just giggle—their entire faces and bodies glowed and roared with laughter. It spoke of their youth and their innocence, and there was no shadow of the past sixteen months there—it was a moment of straight-down-the-line exhilaration.

      And it stole his breath.

      He suddenly realised why this Christmas—why making it so perfect for Ella and Holly—had become so important for him. He’d been searching for optimism, for hope for the future, and an assurance that they would all be okay.

      He held that assurance in his hand.

      He met Nicola’s gaze. ‘Thank you.’

CHAPTER NINE

      NICOLA paused in the doorway to the living room and drank in the stillness and silence of the Christmas night. The children had all gone to bed a couple of hours ago, and it appeared that the rest of the household had retired too.

      It had been a big day.

      It had been the most amazing Christmas she’d ever had.

      It was getting late, but she was still too keyed up to sleep. Perhaps she just wasn’t ready to let it all go yet. Sinking into the largest of the sofas, she slid sideways so she half-sat, half-lay across it, her head resting on its arm. So much fun had taken place in this room today. Her lips curved upwards as she remembered it all. And at the centre had been Cade.

      Always Cade. The thought of him warmed her blood.

      ‘I thought you’d gone to bed.’

      Before she could haul herself upright again, her feet were lifted so that she lay full length on the sofa. She couldn’t help groaning her appreciation at the cushioning softness that cradled her or the warmth of Cade’s hands at her ankles.

      With a small sliding caress, he released them and hunkered down on the floor with his back against the sofa. He smelled of soap and the single malt Scotch that he drank. It took an effort of will not to reach out and push her fingers through his hair.

      ‘I still feel a little too keyed up to sleep,’ she admitted.

      He glanced at her, the blue of his eyes a caress against her face. ‘You could’ve settled in with one of those romance novels.’

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