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?”

green to his blue. “I'm much better today. I've

feel like a

his tray onto the table. “Yes,

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

then, as he taps in, his eyes

follow him out to the hallway, remaining silent as he briefly glances into the lounge, then turns away, ambling to the far

you for getting back to

this time of year, but you would be doing me a huge favour... Ah,

then? Christmas Eve? That would be perfect. I’m in your debt. Thank you…” He pauses, listening again. “Ah, yes. Chad. An excellent idea. It will help settle her

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

that all

me and Michael,” he says in a low voice. “We were going to wait until the Spring, but with everything that’s happened, we thought we’d move things forward a little.

having a brand-new

“Let’s say, something else to encourage her back onto her feet and get her back in good physical condition. Having just Cara,

take the bull

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

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

“James?”

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

is to suffer. But it’s hard to imagine anything worse that could have been inflicted

not something I want to say to Michael, but if Charlotte didn't want to have another child, I could

There’s still something…

Something more…

is that all of it? All that’s

Breathes out. “Of the two men responsible, Finchby…”