Back The Christmas Wish List
Chapters (38)
  1. Cover
  2. Heidi Swain
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Acknowledgements
  34. Dolly and Hattie’s Christmas Wish List . . .
  35. ‘The Secret Seaside Escape’ Ad
  36. ‘Poppy’s Recipe for Life’ Ad
  37. ‘Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at The Winter Wonderland’ Ad
  38. About the Author

‘Not that you don’t look lovely as you are,’ Jonathan carried on, ‘but, well, you’ll see when we get there.’

Annoyingly, he was right. I wouldn’t have wanted to turn up at the seventeenth-century luxury spa hotel looking windswept from Wynbridge. The grand exterior was imposing and dominated the landscaped grounds, and inside five-star indulgence awaited me.

‘An entire suite,’ I couldn’t help grinning as Jonathan checked us in.

‘And every spa treatment you can imagine,’ he smiled back. ‘I thought I’d start with a massage,’ he added, ‘to sort my spine and alignment after my collision with Dolly’s low beam.’

The rooms were heaven – a huge canopied bed, extensive views, an open fire and a bath which was easily big enough for two – and it soon became obvious that Jonathan had one thing on his mind once we’d taken it all in.

‘God I’ve missed you,’ he groaned, looking down at my naked body after quickly relieving me of my clothes.

I ran my hands over the muscles of his back and wrapped my legs tightly around him, then pulled him down and into me in one smooth movement. His body was toned to perfection and the weight and warmth of him as he began to move promised an exquisite few hours to come.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I gasped as he covered his mouth with mine and began to move faster.

An afternoon spent with a lover as competent as Jonathan would leave anyone feeling satisfied, but I couldn’t help thinking, as I slipped out of the bed and went to run a bath, that there was something a little off. Some part of me that he hadn’t reached. Sexually I was sated, but there was something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on, but which left me feeling a little disconcerted nonetheless.

I crept back to where I’d dumped my bag and watched him sleeping. He was completely relaxed, his arm thrown across the bed and his chest rising and falling in long, deep breaths. He looked the same and physically he had felt the same, so perhaps it was me who was different not him. I quietly picked up my bag, pulled out my phone and went back to the bathroom.