“First, we’re going to find the perfect Christmas tree,” Robyn said, “and then we’ll be able to play in the snow and have hot chocolate to warm up. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect.” Holly, fearless and curious after a good long sleep, seemed the least nervous among them. At the last moment she remembered her manners. “Thank you, Aunt Robyn.”

Alix saw Robyn’s eyes mist. How must it feel, seeing family for the first time in years? And what had wrenched them apart in the first place?

It wasn’t her place to ask. That was between Robyn and Christy. Also, she’d experienced enough emotion in the last few days to last her the rest of the year. She didn’t intend to go looking for more.

After that kiss—Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that kiss?—she and Zac had eaten dinner together. They’d sat opposite each other at the small table, a candle in the center, and she’d focused on that dancing flame and tried to lock her emotions away where they belonged. She was confident that she could do it. After all, she was an expert. Except that for once her expertise seemed to have left her. She used all the tricks she’d learned over the years. She detached herself mentally, imagined all her feelings floating away in a balloon, used breathing techniques. But still it felt as if some essential part of her defenses had been irrevocably breached. Even as her brain tried to lock down the memory, her lips were remembering the feel of his, and her skin the touch of his hands.

Had he known? After that searing kiss, she’d expected the evening to be the height of awkward, but instead he’d steered away from all things personal and told her about his work leading polar expeditions. To begin with, she’d only half listened, her mind still working through options for what to do if Holly mentioned what she’d witnessed—Kiss? That’s ridiculous. She must have been dreaming—but eventually she’d found herself absorbed by what he was telling her. He’d inherited a love of the outdoors from his father and learned wilderness skills on trips abroad. His passion for the polar regions had been cemented by a research trip as a postgraduate. He’d described glittering snowfields, snowcapped mountains and glaciers that dazzled under the midnight sun. She’d been so captivated by his descriptions that for a short time she’d lowered her guard and stopped fighting the fact that she found him interesting. There had even been laughter.

She’d felt a flicker of envy when he’d described his relationship with his father. The trips they’d taken together had obviously inspired him. She couldn’t remember taking any trips with her parents. They traveled alone on their various research trips. She’d almost felt their sigh of relief as they’d dragged battered luggage through the front gate, letting it slam on the life they were leaving behind. On her. She’d been left to occupy herself in the care of whichever parent had drawn the short straw.