The Unexpected Holiday Gift (15 page)

‘I guess it's not as easy as all that to just leave a year of marriage behind,' she said, swallowing hard as she saw the heat in his eyes.

‘Oh, I don't know. The marriage part was only ever a piece of paper. It was
you
I couldn't bear to be without.' Not the status. Not the band on his finger that showed his clients that he was serious, grown up, able to take care of business.

Her. Just Clara.

He wanted her, the way that her own family never had. And even if he decided to walk away tomorrow, she owed herself one more night of being wanted like that.

She knew now the real reason why she'd never signed those papers either. Because she still wanted him too. She'd been waiting for him to confirm that it was over.

And suddenly it wasn't. It wasn't over at all.

She couldn't say which of them moved first, but in a blink of an eye the distance between them disappeared and she was close enough to feel his breath against her lips. Her tongue darted out to run over them, as if she could taste him there already.

Jacob groaned, low, in the back of his throat, and then the millimetres between them vanished altogether.

The kiss felt just as Clara remembered—like love, and home, and warmth—and she wondered how she'd lived without this for five long and lonely years. How she had ever believed, even for a moment, that things could be over between them.

She knew now, in that instant, that things could never be truly finished between her and Jacob. Whatever happened next, however large the distance between them might grow, it would never be the end. She would always be connected to this man, in a way far more elemental and real than a mere marriage certificate. It wasn't even only Ivy who held her tied to him; it was her own heart.

And that, she'd discovered, she couldn't organise and order into submission. Her heart had a life of its own, a love of its own, and it had chosen Jacob six years ago and had never let go.

She knew now it never would.

Jacob pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes, his forehead resting against hers and his breath coming as fast as her own.

‘Okay?' he murmured.

‘Just fine,' Clara replied, her mouth strangely dry.

She knew there were questions to be answered, things to consider and decisions to be made, eventually. But, right in this moment, her world had shrunk to little more than just the two of them and the snow falling outside that had kept them together on Christmas Eve, six years to the day after they met.

Then her phone buzzed and she remembered the oven warming and the food waiting to be cooked. She pulled back but Jacob's hand shot out and he wrapped his fingers around her waist.

‘Ignore it,' he whispered.

‘Aren't you hungry?' Clara asked.

‘Not for anything you can cook.' Jacob gave her a slow, hot smile and Clara knew that dinner would be several hours away.

And by that time she would be ravenous.

This time, it was Clara who leant in to kiss him first and that kiss led to many, many more, each more wonderful than she'd remembered, or ever dreamt she'd feel again.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

J
ACOB
STRETCHED
OUT
across the sheets of the four-poster bed, luxuriating in the warmth of the fire burning in the grate, the wonderful ache in his muscles from a night of loving his wife and the feel of Clara's smooth, bare skin beside him.

Well.

That wasn't quite what he'd had in mind when he'd envisioned the perfect family Christmas, but now it was here...

He'd forgotten how in tune they were, physically. They might not have been able to communicate all the issues they had between them in their marriage, and in their pasts, but physically they'd always been able to express themselves totally. The way their bodies moved against each other, the way their fingers sought out sensitive places, the way their mouths moved across skin... That was beyond conversation, beyond language, even. It was innate. It was special.

It was something Jacob knew he'd never find with another living soul, no matter how hard he looked.

Maybe that was the real reason he'd held up the divorce. Maybe it hadn't been his need not to fail, or to prove something, or to make Clara as miserable as she'd made him by leaving.

Maybe it had been as simple as knowing that Clara was his only chance at true happiness.

Only an idiot would give that up without a fight. But when Clara had left she'd denied him that fight, taking the battleground far away, somewhere he couldn't reach.

But now he had his opportunity.

His last chance to win back his wife.

But if he wanted that chance, he had to make a decision—the biggest he might ever make. He couldn't rush it, just because sex with Clara was so good. This mattered—Ivy mattered. Even if he couldn't be her father, he still knew she mattered more than anything, especially to Clara. So he had to get this right. He wouldn't hurt another child—physically or emotionally.

One night with Clara wasn't enough to brush away all of his fears, and he'd be an idiot if he thought it could. But Clara believed in him. That counted for something.

It counted for a hell of a lot, in fact.

But was it enough?

Only Jacob could make that decision. And he wasn't sure where to start.

* * *

Clara woke to the glorious pressure of Jacob's lips against her skin and let herself just enjoy the moment for almost a full minute before reality came crashing down around her.

She'd slept with her ex-husband. She'd let herself get carried away by the connection between them before they'd come to any decision about Ivy—just as she'd promised herself she wouldn't do.

She hadn't even worked on persuading him that having a child in his life would not be the terrible, horrible thing he imagined.

She'd done nothing to convince him that Heather's childhood accident shouldn't affect his whole life, or to deal with the issues that had spanned their marriage and led to her leaving in the first place. Instead, she'd just taken what she'd wanted, selfishly and greedily, and without thinking about what would happen in the morning.

But now it was morning.

She sighed, puffing air out into the pillow. They had talked, they'd covered all sorts of secrets and she'd given him her terms. That wasn't nothing. She understood him a lot better now. She'd just have to hope it was enough and that he knew what he was committing to if he chose to be part of Ivy's life.

Jacob's hands ran up the length of her body, his fingertips skimming her skin and making her shiver. She almost didn't want to move, didn't want to give any sign that she was awake, because the moment she did the night would be over and they would have to deal with the hard decisions to be made in the cold light of day. If Jacob said no, if this really was the end for them, she just wanted one more moment in his arms...

But Ivy was out there waiting for her.

Opening her eyes, Clara realised that they hadn't even managed to close the curtains before falling into the massive four-poster bed the night before, and the winter sun that Jacob had been so sure that Scotland never saw was streaming in through the glass.

‘It's stopped snowing,' Clara said, blinking in the light.

‘Mmm-hmm,' Jacob murmured, his lips busy working their way across her neck. ‘So it has.'

Suddenly, Clara's mind overruled her body and she twisted around in his arms to face him, even as her skin called out for more. ‘If the snow has stopped they might be clearing the roads.'

Jacob's hands fell away from her. ‘Are you still that keen to get away from me for Christmas?'

‘No! I just...'
I'm desperate to get back to our daughter.
‘Ivy will be waiting. Besides, I put a lot of work into setting up your perfect Christmas, you realise. I want your family to be able to enjoy it, if at all possible.' She tried to insert some levity into her words, even though inside, her heart ached.

With a groan, Jacob rolled out of bed, naked despite the cold morning air, and crossed to the window. ‘I think I can see the ploughs working their way up from the bottom of the hill.'

Clara swallowed. That meant that she'd be able to get home to Ivy soon, and the relief she felt at that realisation was huge. She just wished it wasn't also tinged with the sadness of having to leave Jacob.

‘So,' he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the blanket back over him. ‘You're the planner. What happens now?'

Nothing like an approaching snowplough—and ex-in-laws—to get the brain working fast in the morning.

‘Well, if they're still at the bottom of the hill we probably have an hour or more before the roads are clear enough to drive. You should call your family, see where they are and if they're willing to drive over now. I can get things going downstairs—get the turkey in the oven and so on. Most of the food is ready prepared so it won't take too much effort to get the meal cooking. I can't imagine the staff I hired are going to make it here now, anyway, but we can do it between us, I'm sure.' She wished she had her handbag with her, with her planner inside. She needed her lists. But they had been the last things on her mind when she and Jacob had retired to the bedroom the night before... She checked her watch. ‘Lunch is going to be rather later than is traditional at this point, but at least it will happen. The presents are all ready, under the tree, and the... What?' she asked, suddenly aware that Jacob was barely containing his laughter. ‘What's so funny?'

‘You,' he said, grinning. ‘You sitting there, naked, in total professional mode.'

‘You think me being professional is amusing?' Clara asked, bristling.

‘No, I think it's hot as hell,' he admitted. ‘But when I asked what happens now...I wasn't talking about the perfect Foster family Christmas. I was talking about us.'

His grin faded away as he finished speaking, and she stared down at her hands to avoid his gaze. Talking about work was
so
much easier than discussing their mess of a relationship. Of a marriage.

‘Unless you already knew that and were avoiding the subject.' There was no laughter in Jacob's voice now.

‘No, I wasn't. It's just that whatever happens next... It's up to you, Jacob.' Apparently there was no putting it off any longer. ‘I know you haven't had much time, and we were, well, busy for a lot of it. But have you thought about whether you want to meet Ivy?'

Jacob blew out a long breath. ‘Yeah. It's pretty much
all
I've been thinking about since you told me. Well, on and off.' He flashed her a smile that told her she'd been a pretty good distraction.

‘And?'

‘Honestly? I'm scared, Clara. I never planned this. I didn't even get the usual nine months to get used to the idea.'

‘I know. I'm sorry.'

‘But...' She held her breath, waiting for him to continue. ‘I'm not willing to give this—us—up. Not yet. Not without trying.'

But trying wasn't good enough. ‘Jacob, if you step into her life you can't just—'

‘Step out again, I know,' Jacob said. ‘But I've got an idea, if you're willing. A compromise.'

Clara gave a slow nod. ‘Okay. Go on.'

He wrapped an arm around her bare waist and pulled her close. ‘Bring Ivy and Merry up to the castle for Christmas. We don't need to tell her, or my family, anything just yet. Just...give me a chance to meet her, spend time with her. See if I can manage that without a full-blown panic attack.' He made it sound like a joke but Clara suspected it wasn't. Not entirely, anyway. ‘Break me in gently. Then we can decide if we should tell her.'

We. We can decide.
Clara liked the sound of that. The two of them. Just like it should have been from the start.

She nodded. ‘Okay. I'll call Merry.'

‘In a moment.' Jacob darted forward, capturing her lips with his own again. ‘How long did you say we had until the roads were clear?' he asked between kisses.

‘Sadly, not long enough,' Clara said.

He kissed her one last time, hard and deep and full of promise. Then he pulled away with a groan. ‘Then I suppose we'd better make ourselves respectable.' With a wink back at her, he strolled towards the bathroom, whistling.

Clara gave herself one whole minute lying back in bed, replaying the events of the last day in her head. Maybe, just maybe, this could all work out okay. Maybe she didn't have to choose between her two futures any more. Maybe they could be a real family at last.

She smiled to herself. Maybe this would be the best Christmas ever, after all.

Then she sat up and called Merry.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

J
ACOB
STOOD
AT
THE
open front door of the castle and watched as the large SUV his father had hired weaved its way up the hill towards him. Heather had texted earlier to say they were waiting at the hotel down the road for the snowploughs to finish clearing the way, and that they had coffee and Christmas cake and carols so Christmas was off to a brilliant start. He wondered if they'd met Merry and Ivy already.

Somehow it seemed that, despite the huge odds stacked against it, he might actually pull off the perfect Christmas after all.

Perfect for more than just his dad, now that Clara was there too. Jacob was apprehensive still, about meeting Ivy. But Clara had promised to introduce him just as ‘Jacob'—no pressure, no expectations, just a chance to get to know the little girl he'd helped to make, if not to raise.

And if that went well...who knew? If Clara thought he could be a father, a real husband again, maybe it was possible.

For the first time since his father's diagnosis, the future looked like a place he could bear to live in, even if he knew the inevitable losses coming his way would still be soul-destroying. With Clara at his side, he had faith that he could make it through them.

Everything seemed possible when Clara was with him.

‘Are they nearly here?' Clara appeared from the kitchen, a festive apron still wrapped around her waist, and she wiped flour from her hands onto it. ‘Have I got time to wash up?'

‘Nope.' Jacob pointed down the path. ‘That's Dad's car. They'll be here any moment.' The excitement thrumming through his veins was only partly to do with the festivities and pulling off the whole plan. Mostly, he suspected, it had something to do with Clara standing beside him, smelling of cinnamon. He hadn't felt this kind of excitement at Christmas since he'd been about ten.

‘Oh, no. I look a state.'

‘You look beautiful.' He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her slightly floury hair. ‘What have you been making?'

‘Last-minute mince pies,' she said, absently. She peered out of the door. ‘There's Merry's hire car too, just behind them.'

Merry. And Ivy. Jacob's chest tightened and he focused on breathing in and out, creating steam in the frosty air. He could do this. ‘Nearly time, then.'

‘For our perfect Christmas.' Clara's small hand sneaked into his and he felt her warmth throughout his body.

‘Ours,' he echoed.

The SUV pulled up onto the driveway with a crunch of snow. ‘And here they are! Merry Christmas!' Stepping out into the glorious winter's day, he helped his mum down from the car and held her tightly before hugging Heather and shaking his father's hand.

‘We made it!' Heather said, beaming. ‘Jacob, this place is incredible!'

‘Isn't it? Come on in. Clara's waiting to see you all!' He realised that the second car had pulled up beside the castle too. ‘And we've got some other special guests today too.'

Clara's business partner, Merry, stepped out of the car. And behind her walked a small girl. The girl who must be Ivy. His daughter.

A chill settled into Jacob's bones as he watched her smile and bounce out into the snow.

She looked exactly like Heather had as a child.

* * *

‘Mummy!' Ivy yelled and raced across the snow into Clara's arms. Dropping to her knees, Clara held her daughter tight and, just for a moment, refused to think about what might happen next. It was Christmas morning and she was with her daughter. That was all that mattered.

‘Hello, sweetheart,' Clara murmured. ‘I'm so happy to see you.'

‘Clara?' Jacob asked, and she could hear the nervousness in his voice.

‘We should get everyone inside the castle. It's cold out here,' she said, straightening up to stand again. ‘But first... Ivy, this is Jacob. He's the one who planned this whole Christmas in a castle for his family and for us.'

‘And then your mum organised it all,' Jacob said, still standing a metre or so away.

Ivy turned her big, blue eyes on him then stuck out a hand. ‘I'm Ivy.'

Clara watched Jacob's jaw tighten as he reached out to take his daughter's hand. ‘Hi, Ivy. It's brilliant to meet you.'

A bubble of hope floated up inside her. Maybe, just maybe, this might all work out.

* * *

Christmas dinner went as well as she could have hoped. Merry kept up a constant stream of inconsequential conversation, for which Clara was eternally grateful. And when James turned to her over Christmas pudding and said how pleased he was to see her again, and how he hoped she'd become a permanent fixture of the family once more, Clara even managed a polite smile.

‘It's very kind of you all to let us impose on your family Christmas,' she said. ‘Especially since we were caught here by the snow. I know it's been very special for Ivy.'

‘It's been very special for us spending time with Ivy too.' James's pointed look was knowing, but Clara ignored it. She didn't want to give anyone false hope about the future of their families.

Least of all herself.

‘Time for presents!' Heather announced, jumping to her feet, seeming more like a child than a twenty-something.

‘But I thought Father Christmas got snowed in at the North Pole,' Ivy piped up and Clara winced.

Heather smiled down at the girl and Clara realised that Merry must have primed everyone on the story they'd told her. ‘Well, if the roads here got clear enough for us to make it to the castle for Christmas, maybe Father Christmas was able to get out too. If he's been, I reckon there'll be more presents by the fireplace next to the tree. Shall we go and check?'

‘Okay.' Ivy reached up to take Heather's hand and followed her into the hallway. Moments later, they all heard a gasp, and Ivy came racing back into the dining room. ‘Mummy! Mummy! He's been! He must have come while we were eating dinner!'

‘Really? Fantastic!' Clara caught Merry's eye over Ivy's head and mouthed
Thank you,
but Merry just shrugged.

They all made their way into the hall, where seven red stockings hung by the fire, each with a name tag hanging from it.

‘It's a Christmas miracle,' Jacob said drily, but he squeezed Clara's hand when no one was looking. She squeezed back. Really, he was coping surprisingly well. A lesser man might have been driven to distraction by Ivy's many questions over the dinner table, but he'd answered every one thoughtfully and patiently. He'd even lost some of the slightly panicked air that had surrounded him since Ivy had stepped out of the car.

Clara had seen photos of Heather as a child; she knew exactly what he must have been thinking. But that was why today was so brilliant an opportunity for them to meet. Heather was right there with them, happy and whole and alive.

The whole set-up was just asking for a happy ever after.

Clara smiled to herself as she watched Ivy dig through her stocking. She unwrapped the bike lock, helmet, knee and elbow pads that Clara had bought for her, then reached into the bottom to find an envelope. She tore it open, then frowned at the ornate letters printed on the card. Merry leaned over her shoulder.

‘It says
Look outside
.'

Ivy dropped her haul and dashed out of the front door, squealing with delight. ‘It's a bike! A purple bike, just like I wanted!'

‘How on earth did you get that up here without her noticing?' Clara asked as they followed her outside.

‘Trade secret,' Merry replied, tapping the side of her nose. ‘Plus we bumped into Jacob's family at the hotel before we drove up. That helped.'

‘Mummy! Come see!' Ivy called, and Clara went to watch her daughter wobble across the snowy ground on her new bike. Then Ivy yelled, ‘Jacob! Come watch me ride!'

But Jacob wasn't there. Clara frowned; he'd been beside her before they'd come outside. What had happened to him?

‘I'll go find him for you, sweetie,' she told Ivy and, leaving Merry in charge of supervising the bike riding, headed back through the giant wooden doors into the castle.

‘All I'm saying is, Clara has taken on a lot of responsibility, raising that child alone.' James Foster's voice echoed off the stone walls, and Clara's frown deepened as she followed the sound. She didn't like the idea of her father-in-law discussing her in her absence—especially when it involved a subject he knew nothing about.

‘Dad, I know that. And if...well, if things had been different...' Jacob sounded more stressed than he had since the moment they'd realised they were snowed in the day before. Clara disliked that even more.

Stepping through the doorway into the kitchen, she coughed loudly to announce her presence. ‘Jacob?' she added for good measure. ‘Ivy's looking for you. She wants you to see her riding her bike.'

Jacob spun round, apparently surprised to see her there. ‘Right. I'll be right there.'

But his father's hand was already on his arm. And James was murmuring something more, something she couldn't hear.

She'd always been fond of Jacob's father. But, right now, she wondered if she hadn't paid enough attention to James's relationship with his son.

Jacob nodded and stepped away, taking Clara's hand and turning her back the way she'd come. ‘Come on then,' he said, flashing her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. ‘Let's go see your girl cycle.'

* * *

Clara has taken on a lot of responsibility.

His father's words echoed through his head as he watched Ivy gleefully cycling up and down the same stretch of driveway. The snow was still piled up in banks on either side, but they'd cleared enough that she could ride in one big circle around the cars.

Raising that child alone.

He'd wanted to explain—tell him how he hadn't known about Ivy. How, if he had, he'd have done things differently. But the truth was, he didn't know for sure if that was the truth.

Today had been wonderful. He'd honestly enjoyed Ivy's company, loved hearing her questions and answering them as best he could. He'd loved watching the pure joy on her face as she'd opened her presents. Loved standing with Clara, seeing her bursting with pride for her girl.

Their girl. Their child.

But Christmas Day wasn't like any other day, was it? And life wasn't all Christmas Days. It was balancing work and family, and looking after each other, and too many other everyday things he didn't even know how to imagine yet. Could he do
that?
He didn't know.

He wouldn't know unless he tried.

And now that you're in that child's life?
his father had asked in a murmur, while Clara had stood waiting.
I hope that you will live up to
your
responsibilities, Jacob.

Could he? And could he risk it, not knowing for sure?

He wanted to; he knew that much. He wanted to try, for the first time since Clara had walked out. He wanted to try for something he wasn't sure he could succeed at, something he was certain he didn't deserve. But did that make it the right decision?

‘Look at me, Jacob!' Ivy called out to him and he waved to show her he was watching. Taking in every second of her gleeful, happy ride.

Could he walk away from this? Maybe that was the question he should be asking.

When it happened, it happened in slow motion.

Ivy was still waving back, riding one-handed as she wobbled along on her stabilisers, not looking where she was going. She couldn't have seen the rock, hidden under the snow bank. As he watched, her front wheel bashed into it, jerking her to a halt, sending Ivy flying over the handlebars into the snow.

Jacob darted forward but he was a full second behind Clara, too slow to reach Ivy first. And too slow to warn them about the wedge of snow, dislodged from the castle walls above as it slid down towards them.

He shouted to them to move, but Clara was too busy pulling Ivy up out of the snow bank, holding her close as she cried. Without thinking, he dived forward and yanked them both aside, shielding them with his body as the snow landed, hard and cold and wet against his back, even through his coat.

‘What... Where did that come from?' Clara asked. ‘The roof?'

Jacob nodded, too winded still to speak.

‘You saved us.' Ivy stared up at him, her eyes wet with tears, but filled with a look of trust and hope that was all too familiar. Jacob felt it like a stab wound to the heart.

That was how Heather had looked at him when she was a child. Before the accident.

He didn't deserve Ivy's trust. And he'd only betray it in the end if he stayed. He couldn't let her believe otherwise, not when he knew how badly he could fail.

He couldn't be her father.

He stumbled backwards, almost losing his footing on the snow. ‘I need to go...dry off.' Turning away, he headed back into the castle, head down.

He needed to escape. He needed to get away from those eyes. From that faith and expectation and responsibility.

From everything he'd always failed at before.

* * *

‘Ivy's fine.' Clara leant against the bedroom door frame, watching Jacob towelling off his hair. ‘Your mother is feeding her mince pies and hot chocolate. She's been so spoilt today she's never going to want to leave, you realise.'

But they were going to have to leave. They had to go back to London, to the real world and their real lives.

And, from the way Jacob had just run from them, Clara had a horrible feeling they'd be going alone.

Jacob looked up, guilt shining in his eyes. ‘I'm glad she's not hurt.'

‘Thanks to you.'

He shook his head. ‘I should have got her out of the way sooner. Or stopped her from falling. Told her to keep both hands on the handlebars, watch where she was going. Something.'