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?”

“I'm much better today. I've barely coughed at

to feel like a spare part. “Can

onto the table.

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

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

into the

Eleanor, thank you for getting

of year, but you would be doing

That would be perfect. I’m in your debt. Thank you…” He pauses, listening again. “Ah, yes. Chad.

eyes crinkle. Pressing the finger to his

“What’s that all about? Or shouldn’t

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

Besides having a brand-new

condition. Having just Cara, so tiny and in the middle of Winter, might tempt her to spend too much

to take the bull by the

ask, how is Charlotte? Really? What did they do to her?

under my elbow, steering me away from the lounge door. Then, dropping his voice even further. “She’s going to be fine, but she was in the most appalling condition by the time we reached her.” His face tightens. “Even

“James?”

is palpable. He draws a breath. “They’d chained her to a wall, left her lying on concrete. She was in labour, in the cold and the damp,

suffer. But it’s hard to imagine anything worse that could have been inflicted on her. She’s not

to Michael, but if Charlotte didn't want to have another child, I could hardly hold it

There’s still something…

Something more…

of it?

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