Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Coming down the stairs, my face heating, I brush by Michael. He inhales, eyes crinkling, but he doesn't look at me, instead, suppressing a smile as he heads up.

In the dining room, I find Charlotte and Mitch. Charlotte sits by the fire in an armchair, humming to herself, cradling Cara as though she'll never let go.

Mitch has brush and twigs laid out on the table, knotted and intertwined into a tightly woven whole, six or eight feet long. She winds in sprigs of pine, ivy, and holly, glossy and green, and brightly berried. Then she loops in ribbons of red and gold and tartan, twisting and knotting them with a practiced hand into coils and bows. She looks up, eyes brightening. “Ah, Kirstie. Good timing. Can help me with the swags, please.”

“You look as though you're almost done.”

“I am…” She twists wire through one end, then the other, “… but it takes two to hang them up. You take that end, I'll take this. Onto the stepladders and we'll snag them onto those hooks over the fire.

The swag drapes over the hearth atop the mirror. It smells of resin and winter and… and…

Does green have a smell?

It does.

Green smells like that swag. It smells of the Winter festival when, for as long as people have gathered in the dark of the year, they have brought nature and the Spring indoors as a reminder that soon, the light will return.

Green smells of cinnamon and oranges and brandy and apples and cloves.

For as long as I live, green will smell of this Christmas.

In a final flourish, Mitch winds in a twist of mistletoe, then turning, arches a brow at me and drops a wink.

Michael pokes his head around the door. “Ah, there you all are.”

James enters behind him, carrying a tray, loaded with sandwiches and slices of what looks like fruit bread.

Michael perches on the arm of the chair, holding a plate while Charlotte takes a bite from a sandwich. His voice is gentle. “How are you doing, Babe?”

her green to his blue. “I'm much

beginning to feel like a spare part. “Can I

you, Kirstie.” James unloads his tray onto the table. “Yes, there’s more to

kitchen, a pot of tea, steaming peppermint, sits waiting beside a coffeepot. “Crackers are in the cupboard over there,” says

crackers onto a plate, James’ mobile rings. He checks the screen then, as he taps in, his eyes flicking to mine, lifts a finger to

the hallway, remaining silent as he briefly glances into the lounge, then turns away, ambling to the far end of the

thank you for getting back

of year, but

listening again. “Ah, yes. Chad. An excellent idea. It will help

he taps off, his eyes crinkle. Pressing the finger to his lips once more, he nods

“What’s that all about? Or shouldn’t

to wait until the Spring, but with everything that’s happened, we thought we’d move things

having a

her back onto her feet and get her back in good physical condition. Having just Cara, so tiny and in the middle of Winter, might tempt

to take the bull by the

me, I wanted to ask, how is Charlotte? Really? What did

“She’s going to be fine, but she was in the most appalling condition by the time we reached her.” His face tightens. “Even before she was abducted, Charlotte was worrying about the birth. She was very nervous about what was coming. But then, when they took her… The conditions they were keeping her in…”

“James?”

palpable. He draws a breath. “They’d chained her to a wall, left her lying

ripples. “Charlotte hasn’t had an easy life. She knows what it is to suffer. But it’s hard to imagine anything worse

expression turns bleak. “It’s not something I want to say to Michael, but if Charlotte didn't want to have another child, I

There’s still something…

Something more…

that all of

“No…” He breathes in. Breathes out. “Of the two men responsible, Finchby…”