Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 36

Mitch sits in an armchair by the fire, knitting something small and stripy in rose pink, apple green and primrose yellow. Tucked down beside her, kinda out-of-sight behind the chair, is a huge canvas bag, stuffed tight, balls of green and red wool poking out of the top.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A winter hat for Cara,” she smiles.

“Another one?” says Richard. “How many hats does one baby need?”

Mitch sucks in her cheeks. “You might be surprised. And besides…” She gestures toward Beth, her hands neatly folded over her bulging stomach, with the ends of her knitting needles… “It isn’t just one baby is it?”

Cara, lying in her carrycot, starts crying. Charlotte immediately rises, lifting her out, holding her close, rocking gently and murmuring something quiet.

From somewhere outside, there’s a rumble and a clatter, perhaps of a vehicle. Michael makes for the window, twitching back a curtain.

Charlotte rocks the little girl, trying to soothe her back to sleep. “Who is it?”

“Just a delivery van come to the wrong place. I’ll just go redirect them back to the hotel. Sally will be wanting the kitchen properly stocked.” But his eyes meet with James, then with Richard…

A smooth lie there…

Occupied with Cara, Charlotte doesn’t notice their glance, but the three men make for the door and James gives me the smallest of eye-rolls to join them.

Outside, in the hall, he speaks in a low voice. “Kirstie, do me a favour would you. Keep Charlotte occupied for a few minutes. There's something Michael, Richard and I need to do.”

“Of course I will. You want me to keep her in the lounge?”

would be better if

Mitch and Charlotte, Cara is still fussing. “Perhaps she’d be better in her bed in the nursery,” I suggest. “It’s quieter there and she likes that mobile above her

the door, then setting the half-finished baby cap to one side, pulls something else, much larger, out of her knitting bag. It flops, shapeless, over her lap in holly green and Santa red. “You could

*****

 

Christmas Day

wrap and ribbons. James waves an arm down at the stack. “You’re closest, Michael. You’re in

takes a small gilt-wrapped package from the top, checks the

peels off foil and ribbons to reveal what is very obviously, a perfume bottle. She opens it,

label on another gaudy parcel, bulky and soft, in the kind of economy wrapping paper

and looking to Charlotte, but she

tag, jagged-edged, perhaps pinked from an old birthday card or similar. His head inclines. “Why, Mitch, thank you. You shouldn’t have.

Klempner frowns...

she chuckles. It's a low sound, deep and throaty. “You’d better not thank me yet. You

tape, easing the

lip, I turn away while I get my

the knitting was

themed pullover dangling from his fingers. In fact, it is a particularly fine example of the type. A knitted Rudolph head looks out from the chest. His red nose

angling to get a

Is Rudolph cross-eyed?

Yup…

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