Single Dad in Her Stocking Page 14

  ‘I know he’ll find out the truth one day but that can wait, can’t it? He can have a bit of time to believe in magic?’

  Max had stepped closer to Emma as he was speaking and now he was close enough to touch her face. To let his fingers and thumb slide so gently down her cheeks and then to cup her chin softly as he bent his head ready to cover her lips with his own.

  ‘This is magic I can still believe in...’ he said softly.

  Emma’s weight was on her toes and she tilted her body to touch his as she returned that kiss and felt his hands move to trace the shape of her shoulders and slip between them to touch her breasts. Emma could only gasp at the spear of sensation that coursed through her body and the movement of Max’s hands stilled instantly, as though he was afraid she didn’t want this.

  Which couldn’t be further from the truth. Emma had never wanted anything in her life as much as she wanted the escape of sinking into a timeless bliss that would make anything else in the world irrelevant. She wanted that magic...

  ‘Don’t stop,’ she whispered, lifting her face to kiss Max again. ‘Please don’t stop...’

  CHAPTER NINE

  HAD SHE REALLY believed that giving in to this overwhelmingly powerful attraction between herself and Max Cunningham meant nothing would actually change?

  How wrong had Emma been?

  Everything had changed.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about it. About every touch of his hands. Every kiss, from those so tender they could bring tears to her eyes to ones so passionate they made the world tilt on its axis. Almost falling asleep cradled in his arms in the aftermath of their lovemaking, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, until he’d reminded her gently that they needed to leave this secret room above the practice clinic. He had to be in the main part of the house in case the children needed him during the night.

  She’d lain awake in her own room for a long time, reliving every moment of their time together. She’d been absolutely right about one thing—she’d experienced something she would never, ever forget. Something which had made her feel as if she was stepping out of ordinary life into a place that felt very different. A bright place where colours were more intense, where food tasted better and something as simple as the scent of a pine tree in the house was special. A place where laughter was the most beautiful sound in the world, the excitement of watching snow falling thickly was so strong it took her back to her own childhood and even the chore of getting the chains onto her tyres so that she could get to work this afternoon was not nearly as tiresome as it could have been.

  It was a place that Emma finally recognised, even though she’d never experienced it to this kind of level.

  At first, it was a surprise to be getting frequent text messages from Max as she attended to one task after another during a busy Christmas Eve shift in an emergency department. She received images of Ben and Tilly standing in the snow in their gumboots, with carrots in their hands that they were going to leave out for the reindeer, when she snatched a few minutes to go and visit Terry on the cardiology ward and catch up with the great news that he’d received several stents in his coronary arteries, fast enough for the damage from his heart attack to be minimal.

  There was one of Pirate with some tinsel tied to his collar, being cuddled by Ben, that arrived in the minute or two between Emma sending an eighty-year-old woman off to X-ray, knowing that she’d broken her hip when she’d slipped in the snow on her front step, and going to stitch up a nasty laceration on a young man whose Christmas party had gone seriously awry.

  The best thing about that image was that the small boy was sitting on his grandfather’s knee when the picture had been taken and Emma had to blink away a tear, knowing that at least one of the barriers in the Cunningham household was beginning to crumble.

  The one Max had sent much later, when the children must have been settled in bed and he’d been able to sneak back to the rooms above the clinic where the gifts had been hidden had broken her focus quite noticeably.

  Was Max remembering what had happened in that room last night in as much detail as she was? His attempt to wrap Ben’s bicycle in Christmas paper did make her laugh, though, and that eased the emotional tension that she could feel building.

  She texted back.

  Great effort. Just leave it like that with the pedals and handlebars sticking out. It’s not as if Ben’s not going to recognise it instantly—he asked Father Christmas for it, didn’t he?

  Things got really busy in the department as it got closer to midnight. A stabbing victim from a pub brawl meant that Emma was tied up in Resus for a long, difficult time. When they’d finally sent the critically ill patient up to Theatre, finding the selfie Max had taken wearing the sparkly tiara that was part of Tilly’s fairy supplies had made her smile rather than laugh.

  She’d spent long seconds just staring at the face that filled her screen and remembering what it had been like to have those beautiful, dark blue eyes staring into her own when they’d been as physically close as it was possible for two people to be.

  She texted back again.

  Wish I was there. Looks much more fun than being here.

  Max’s text came instantly.

  Wish you were here too. More than you can imagine.

  Oh...she could actually imagine it only too well if it was anything like she was feeling and it was when the physical tingling in her body morphed into a longing that was intense enough to steal her breath that Emma finally recognised what was going on.

  She was in love with Max Cunningham.

  It wasn’t just that he’d given her the best sex she’d ever experienced in her life. The sex could only have been that amazing thanks to the connection that had already been there. Because the trust had already been there between them—a mix of familiarity from knowing each other long ago, respecting each other in both professional and personal capacities and shared experiences of dealing with tough things in life. Because there was a possibility that she’d always been a little bit in love with Max, she’d just never let herself go there because she didn’t belong in his kind of world.

  She still didn’t belong here with a new family just trying to glue themselves together, so being in love with this man was only ever going to be a problem—especially when it made her feel as if she wanted to stay in exactly this part of the world and not move on to a new position in the very near future. When it made her feel as if she could quite easily open her heart to the generations of Cunninghams on either side of Max and have an instant family of a size that her Italian relatives would approve of heartily.

  Even if Max wasn’t taking the first steps to try and piece together a new lifestyle when his old one had exploded around him, he had never wanted the same things in life as Emma. She could understand why he’d thrown around that catchphrase of being here for a good time not a long time, given the early tragedy in his life, but the truth of the matter was that Max was never going to give his heart away. Not in the way that Emma could with the person she might want to choose to spend the rest of her life with.

  Oh, he would love the children who had unexpectedly come to share his life—he already did—and he would take the best care of them and of his father, but that was far more responsibility than he’d ever planned to take on and, eventually, he would sort out the current chaos around him. He would employ a full-time housekeeper and nanny and be able to come back to his job in the Royal’s emergency department in the very near future. He would get his apartment repaired and most likely keep it on, despite living in the manor house, because it would be the perfect place to find private time with the women who would always be eager to be chosen even though they knew—like Emma did—that it might only be a one-off night to treasure. He might be even less likely to consider a long-term relationship—not only because he’d seen his brother’s marriage end in misery—but because it wouldn’t b
e fair on three children who’d already experienced far too much disruption in their lives.

  Being in love with Max was her problem, Emma realised, and it would be far better if nobody else knew anything about it. Max probably wouldn’t notice, especially tomorrow when it was Christmas Day and would be all about the children. Or make that today, she thought, as she checked her watch to find midnight had come and gone a while back. That meant she was closer to being able to escape before Max had the chance to notice anything different about her. She’d only ever promised to stay long enough to help create a magical Christmas Day for Ben and Tilly and Alice. Only one more day and that had started already. She had a day off rostered for Boxing Day and Emma could use that to find somewhere else to stay. There was only one more week after that until New Year’s Day and that was when Max had told her the new nanny was due to arrive.

  So that would be that. Maybe they’d stay in touch and Max would send a Christmas card every year with photos tracking the changes as the children grew up. It was just as well you could send digital cards now because goodness only knew where in the world Emma was likely to be.

  She tapped the screen to enlarge the photo of Max in the tiara again. To soak in the expression in his eyes and that smile.

  ‘Dr Moretti? We’ve got a Status One patient arriving by ambulance. Electrocution from faulty Christmas tree lights but someone had started CPR before the paramedics got there and they’ve got a perfusing rhythm again. ETA two minutes...’

  ‘Resus One clear?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Activate the trauma team, please. And get whoever’s on call in Cardiology down here stat.’

  Her phone slipped back into the pocket of her scrub suit. Goodness also only knew when she’d get the next chance to check on the progress of the gift wrapping and that was a good thing.

  Emma needed to try and step back.

  To keep things under control so that nobody got hurt, including herself. It was Christmas Day and she was going to play her part to make it as perfect as possible for the Cunningham family and as little as possible about herself. It was a strategy that had worked for years now.

  She was good at it.

  She was also good at her job and right now she had the challenge of dealing with a post-cardiac arrest due to electrocution. This person wasn’t going to die in the early hours of Christmas Day. Not if Emma Moretti could do anything to change that.

  * * *

  Max was the first person awake in the Cunningham household on Christmas Day which surprised him, not only because he’d been up in the night with Alice and should have been tired enough to sleep through all but a major disturbance but because he remembered the way he and Andy would get up while it was still dark and tiptoe past their parents’ bedroom to go downstairs and see if the Christmas magic had happened again this year.

  He could hear soft snuffles coming from the cot in the corner of his room but that wasn’t the sound which had woken him. It was the light tapping that was coming from the hallway beyond his open door—the sound of a small dog’s toenails on the wooden floorboards on either side of the carpet runner. So he wasn’t really the first person awake, after all. He had to smile when he heard Ben’s whisper that was even more audible than Pirate’s toenails.

  ‘Shh, Pirate... Don’t wake up Uncle Max. Let’s find Grandpa first because we have to have a Christmas cuddle... It’s one of the rules...’

  Oh... Max knew who he’d like to be having a Christmas cuddle with right now. How horrified would Emma be if she knew just how much she’d been on his mind since they’d made love in the early hours of Christmas Eve? He wanted to do that again. As soon as possible.

  As often as possible.

  For the rest of his life...

  Good grief... Max was properly awake now, that was for sure. How on earth had that thought surfaced again? He’d already sorted things out in his head after he’d had that disturbing glimpse through his personal barriers and thought, for a heartbeat, that he wanted the kind of partnership his parents had had when they’d created their family. That Andy had thought he’d found with the woman he’d fallen so deeply in love with.

  Was that what was happening here?

  Was Max falling in love with Emma?

  No. He didn’t do ‘falling in love’. Never had, never would allow himself to take that kind of risk. It was what women did with him and it had always been enough to make him end things rapidly. Falling in love was a magic you only believed in until you learned that the truth could be very different and he’d learned that at a very young age. It was like Christmas magic, until you discovered Father Christmas didn’t actually exist. Ben still believed. And Max wanted to be there when the little boy went downstairs and saw his bike under the Christmas tree because he wanted to remember what it had been like for himself all those years ago. He wanted to feel that magic, just for a heartbeat.

  Max pushed the bedclothes away and reached for his clothes. A pair of jeans and a tee shirt and an extra warm woollen jersey because he could feel that the central heating was already struggling this morning. There was also that odd feeling of silence that only came when the world was blanketed thickly enough by snow. Would Emma make it home safely after her shift ended this morning?

  And there she was again. In his head.

  In his heart, as well, judging by the squeezing sensation he was aware of in his chest even though he knew that the heart was not an organ that was capable of either thinking or feeling. That was disturbing too. A kind of magic all of its own.

  He had to get a handle on this. He wanted this Christmas Day to be special for Emma so that she could get on with her life and find joy again. He wanted it to be special for Ben and Tilly and Alice. For his father as well, because it might be a struggle for him to cope today. How had he reacted to a small boy and a dog climbing into his bed for a pre-dawn Christmas cuddle? Taking the handset of the baby monitor with him, Max left his room to go and find out.

  * * *

  ‘I got a bike, Emma. A blue bike—just like I asked for...’

  ‘Oh...that’s amazing, Ben.’ It was impossible not to return the happy smile that Emma had received full blast when she’d finally arrived back after a shift that had gone overtime.

  ‘Did he make it?’ Max came out of the drawing room a few seconds after Ben had run to meet Emma at the front door. He had Tilly perched on one hip and she was in her full fairy outfit with the tutu and wings and tiara. ‘The Christmas lights guy?’

  ‘He was sitting up and talking by the time I left. He’s not going to get home for his Christmas dinner but I don’t think his family’s too bothered.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re just delighted he’s still alive.’ Max nodded. He was holding Emma’s gaze and he looked delighted as well, she thought. Because of a successful case in his department, or was he as pleased to see her as she was to see him again? The warmth that was coursing through her body made it urgent to get her coat and hat and scarf off and hang them on the hooks.

  ‘I’m a fairy,’ Tilly told her.

  ‘I can see that, sweetheart. You’re the prettiest fairy I’ve ever seen.’ Emma pulled in a deep breath. ‘Something smells gorgeous,’ she added.

  ‘That’ll be what Maggie and Ruth are cooking up. Turkey and bread sauce and Brussels sprouts and roasted potatoes—the whole nine yards. Pigs in blankets for Ben too. They got here before it started snowing again, which is lucky. How did you find the roads?’

  ‘A bit dodgy around here. They must have cleared them this morning but it was just as well I had chains on. It’s still snowing hard.’

  ‘But I want to ride my bike,’ Ben said sadly.

  ‘How ’bout we make a snowman instead?’ Max suggested. ‘After we’ve had our dinner? It might have stopped snowing by then. Otherwise, we might be stuck inside for a while yet.’ He gave Emma just the ghost of a wink. ‘We’ll
have to think of other ways to entertain ourselves if that happens.’

  Emma had to drag her gaze away from Max. That gleam in his eyes told her exactly what kind of entertainment he had in mind and it felt wrong to be thinking about that in the presence of two small children.

  ‘I’ll go and see if Maggie and Ruth need my help in the kitchen,’ she said.

  ‘Come in by the fire for a minute first. Dad insisted on opening some champagne,’ Max told her. ‘There’s a glass with your name on it.’

  ‘It’s a rule,’ Ben told her. ‘Grandpa said it was one of Nana’s rules but it’s only for grown-ups. Come on, Emma. Come and see our new toys. And there’s new stories too...’

  ‘Yes...’ Max was smiling. ‘Come on, Emma. We’re having a very special Christmas but we’ve all been waiting for you to come and share it.’

  The floor of the drawing room was littered with crumpled wrapping paper. Alice was asleep in her pram near James’s chair and Pirate was lying at his feet chewing happily on a dog treat bone. The lights on the Christmas tree were sparkling and the fire was glowing. Emma watched Tilly slide to the floor from her uncle’s arms so he could pour the champagne and then she went to climb onto her grandfather’s lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Ben picked up a picture book from a pile and handed it to James, curling up on the floor beside Pirate as the most senior member of the Cunningham family started reading the story.

  She was already a little spaced out from working a night shift and it felt as if she had stepped into a Christmas card scene so she sipped her celebratory drink cautiously as Max came to stand beside her near the fire. This was exactly what she’d imagined when she’d told Max how important this Christmas was to these children and the opportunity it was providing for them to bond as a family. This was perfect and it was a pleasure to be a part of it and to be watching it happening. And, according to Max, even better news was waiting in the wings.