Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Still steaming from my shower, my hair turbaned into a towel, I examine the two dresses I brought with me. I’m not sure how formal the Threesome are with dinner, so I packed choices.

I hold them up to Ryan. “Which dress do you think I should wear? Christmas red with sparkly bits, or classic ‘little black dress’?”

“Not the red,” says Ryan. “That satin will show every mark.”

“Why should it get marked? We're only having dinner.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, tugging off his boots and smiling away from me. “I’m going for my shower.”

?

Mmmm…

Standing in front of the mirror, I switch on the hair-drier, brushing through my long locks, easing them to lie as I want, slightly covering my left cheek.

Ryan comes up close behind me. Taking me by the shoulders, he presses lips to the cheek, then in the mirror, his eyes meet mine. “You shouldn’t be so self-conscious about it. It barely shows. And in any case, you are still a beautiful woman; the most beautiful I know.”

“I… I still prefer to cover it if I can,” I stutter. I angle my face to the mirror, tracing a fingertip down the jagged red scar down the side of my face.

After my time in hospital, my months invalided, all my other injuries healed, but this…

An extra layer of foundation…

And some blusher…

Then no-one will see it…

*****

“Dinner is served!” James’ voice reverberates from the kitchen.

We head for the dining room. Out in the hall, Charlotte and Mitch descend the stairs, Mitch carrying Cara.

Mitch looks amazing. In a dress of jade, her hair is set in an elaborately up-style and at her neck she wears the silver and emerald necklace. The matching combs glint green against her copper-red hair.

Charlotte looks equally good. Although she still has much of her ‘pregnant shape’, the gown she wears emphasises her height and her much-expanded bosom but drapes smoothly over her expanded stomach.

Michael and Larry enter together, wearing their sweaters in a kind of protective fraternity, Rudolph side by side with the penguin, each refusing to meet each other’s eyes. Charlotte and Mitch exchange giggles as their men sit beside them.

Richard and Beth join us, she leaning on his arm, waddling a bit as he guides her to sit next to Charlotte. But Beth too, for all her advanced pregnancy, looks spectacular, in a dress chosen to make the best of her inflated stomach and bosom.

Michael aims a finger at Richard. “If you think you’re getting away with the suit and shirt, you’re mistaken. If the rest of us have to dress like idiots, so do you.”

Mitch turns to him, her voice all innocence. “Idiots, Michael?”

He turns to her, bowing elaborately. “My apologies, Mitch. If the rest of us have to meet your high sartorial standards, so does Richard.” He turns back to Beth’s elegantly dressed husband. “Go and change.”

James enters carrying a platter of smoked salmon, bedded on a green salad and dressed with sliced lemons.

Richard demurs, smirking…. “The meal’s arrived. If I take the time to change, the food will be cold.”

Michael takes on a quite untypical heartless tone. “Smoked salmon doesn’t go cold. Neither does melon. We’ll wait.”

James, Rudolph staring out from his chest, sets down the platter. “I’ll be back in in a sec with the soup. It’s just under the grill now.”

Hope lights up Richard’s face but Michael interrupts, “Just hold the soup for five minutes will you, James. Richard wants to change into something more appropriate. We don’t want his starter to go cold.”

James measures the billionaire’s perfectly cut, hand-stitched suit with his eye and his face stone-walls. “Yes, quite right. We’ll wait for you, Richard.”

Next to me Ryan, in his silk shirt and tie, lets out a slow release of air.

“Just realising what a narrow escape you had?” I murmur.

He scratches his nose and sniffs. “Mmmph…”

down the stairs, James gives a satisfied chuckle and vanishes from the dining room. Five minutes later, at the sound of down-coming steps, he returns

then takes his place,

Harrumphs, his face almost as red

offers up a bottle.

“Red for me, please.”

the table,

the food. “Larry, French

father shifts his gaze

He’s always watching her…

platter, radiating good humour as he serves himself a generous helping, squeezing

sidelong at his plate, her mouth twisting. “I don’t know how you can stomach

Larry, eyes crinkling, drawls, “Mitch is sensitive to anything of

melon. “You’ve visited Scandinavia,

eye crosses the table to Richard’s sweater, then he

props her chin

up a sliver of salmon, chews and swallows, then sits back in his chair, punctuating his words with his fork. “Well, you see, in Sweden, they have much the same idea as here about Santa Claus. Over there, they call him Jultomten. Or just Tomten… Anyway, Tomten gives presents to all

father as though she has never

how often Santa ever visited

…

Or him?

visits the house on Christmas Eve to meet the children. So…” He stabs at another slice of salmon… “This is excellent, James...” He

sackful of gifts, knocks on the door and asks, ‘Are there any good children here? Of course, all the kids say, ‘Yes’. So, then he’ll sit them on his knee…” Larry shifts to a fake and slightly comic Swedish accent… “So, Inga… You have been

the parents will give him a slice of cake or stollen, and a

so far…” says Mitch, her

does…” He grins and takes another swig of

get drunk? Or just trying to

Or… actually, genuinely, relaxing?

thing is, because Tomten actually visits the home and the children see him, traditionally a family member will dress up to play the part. But… there are also what you might call professional Father Christmases. The parents book them

cradles his glass in paired hands. “I’m beginning to

Christmas Eve, by the end of the afternoon, he’s visited twenty houses, handed out twenty

throwing out a finger at

a palm to the ceiling. “Correct! So, on Christmas Eve night, it’s not that uncommon to visit the town centre in Sweden to find two dozen Father Christmases, complete with red outfit, beards and boots, completely pissed, and having the biggest punch-up you’ve

burst out laughing. Mitch

you ever been to

eyes. “Sweden no. But Larry took me to

“Really? That sounds marvellous.”

yes.” She speaks slowly. “One of

glass. “But

the street. There must have been two feet of snow, but they did a hot salmon soup. The temperature was way below zero, but the soup smelled amazing. Larry and I had some together sitting

fair-haired man next to her, and her fingers curl around

is very still, watching her parents, all but

soup was great. But

fact…” he says… “… If I am not much mistaken...” He hesitates, glances at Charlotte, and then very

flushes scarlet, casting eyes to him, then down to her plate. Blinking, she sips at her wine.

his mouth twitches as he looks between Charlotte and Mitch. “I worked it out. Not at the time obviously…”

Michael

missing

you

father, but he shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not for me to speak unless your mother

words shift to a hiss. “You can’t just

Wishing he’d not spoken?

Babe. Sometimes people have private

don’t mind.

Then he turns, aiming

round. “Why

heaven. “It was Christmas. She wanted

her and at first, meals-wise, she stayed with what was familiar; porridge and fruit for breakfast. That kind of thing. But after a few days of