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 you

in her bed in the nursery,” I suggest. “It’s quieter there and she likes that mobile above

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 play some music for her too,” she

*****

 

Christmas Day

is bright with coloured wrap and ribbons. James waves an arm down at the stack.

from the top, checks the label

bottle. She opens it,

soft, in the kind of economy wrapping paper you might

to Charlotte, but she shakes her head. “It’s not

over the tag, jagged-edged, perhaps pinked from an old birthday card or similar. His head

Klempner frowns...

deep and throaty. “You’d better not thank

easing the parcel apart to reveal something large

lip, I turn away while

all the

his fingers. In fact, it is a particularly fine example of

shift, angling to

Is Rudolph cross-eyed?

Yup…

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