Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances Read online

  Owen raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” Then he frowned. “Why not?”

  Joss blinked, very slowly. “Why not what?”

  “Why won’t Skye be drinking?”

  “I…sorry…I think…” Joss looked confused. He gestured to himself, then to Owen. “I can’t say… You know, doctor-patient confi-thingy.”

  Skye had told Owen she was calling in to the surgery that afternoon. Had she seen Joss, then? He waved a hand. “Don’t worry. She told me everything.”

  Joss blew out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank Christ. I wasn’t sure she was going to tell you.”

  Owen hiccupped. “Tell me what?”

  “About being pregnant.”

  The words had to get to his brain through a maze of dead ends, and it took at least ten seconds for them to register. Even then, they didn’t make sense. He blinked and swallowed. “Sorry, what?”

  Joss stared at him. His gaze drifted slowly to Kole, whose eyes had widened. “Um…”

  “Holy fuck,” Fox said, “is Skye knocked up?”

  Joss’s jaw dropped, and his eyes slowly drifted shut. “Shit. Maisey’s going to kill me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Right, champagne all round?”

  Tasha looked expectantly at the girls. They’d walked across Mangonui harbor to a nice, relaxed bar, and were planning to have a few drinks before returning home to watch Love Actually, one of Tasha’s favorite films. She hadn’t wanted anything more that, and the girls were happy to do whatever she desired the night before her wedding.

  “Great,” Maisey said, and Elle and Caitlin agreed.

  Tasha looked at Skye. “Good with you?”

  “Actually, I’m sorry to be a killjoy but I can’t drink tonight,” Skye said.

  Maisey raised her eyebrows. “What? No alcohol on a hen night? Sorry, Skye, those two things don’t go together.”

  Skye smiled, even though inside her heart hammered and her face glowed. “I saw Joss at the surgery today. He put me on antibiotics and said I shouldn’t mix them with alcohol.”

  Maisey blew a raspberry. “You don’t have to take notice of anything he says.”

  “He is a doctor,” Skye reminded her wryly. “Plus, he was very strict.”

  “Ooh, really?” Maisey’s eyes glassed over at the thought, and the others laughed.

  “All right,” Tasha said. “They do those bottles of flavored sparkling water here—would you like some of those?”

  “Please.” Skye let Tasha order for her, fighting against faintness as her heart continued to race. The girls appeared to have believed her lie, though, because they didn’t question her decision, and the conversation moved on as they took a seat near the window and let the waiter bring over their drinks.

  Elle and Caitlin grilled Tasha on her wedding outfit, trying to get her to tell them what it looked like, but Skye zoned out, her gaze drifting through the window to the view of the harbor, with the gannets diving for fish, and the boats painted scarlet by the setting sun.

  The moment when Joss had turned over the pregnancy test and then looked up at her remained burned into her memory, and the wave of panic that had washed over her at the realization that it was positive continued to send ripples of fear through her three hours later. She was pregnant. She had a bun in the oven. Up the duff. In the family way.

  Oh God, she was going to throw up.

  Fighting down the nausea, she sipped the cool cranberry-flavored sparkling water and tried to calm herself. It was incredibly early in the pregnancy. When she’d queried how accurate the tests were, Joss had told her that ten to twenty-five percent of pregnancies ended in miscarriage, and eighty percent of those happened in the first twelve weeks. He’d said that many women miscarry before they even know they’re pregnant, thinking they’re just having a heavy period, so there was a chance she wouldn’t have anything to worry about. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

  She had to fight not to rest her hand on her stomach while she forced herself to think that she might have a decision to make.

  Because she’d asked, Joss had talked to her about abortion, donning his doctor’s hat and refraining from making any personal comments. He’d explained it was her decision, and that nobody had the right to tell her whether to have one, or not have one. He’d stated that in New Zealand one in four women make the decision at some point in their lives to have an abortion, and that before nine weeks, the most common method was by using pills rather than surgery. He’d explained what counselling was available, what the process involved, and that nobody had to know if she didn’t wish it so.

  Then he’d had to hurriedly pass her a bowl as she vomited.

  Afterward, he’d dropped his doctor’s hat and hugged her as she cried.

  “Talk to Owen,” he’d pleaded.

  She’d pulled back and blown her nose. “You said it was my decision.”

  “As your doctor, I’m telling you of course it is. As your friend, I wish you’d discuss it with him.” He deserves to know. He hadn’t said the words, because he was a professional and took his job seriously. But he would obviously have his own views on the subject, and she’d been able to tell by the look in his eyes that he’d thought it unfair to exclude Owen from the conversation.

  “I’ll think about,” she’d said, and for the past three hours, that was all she’d done.

  After all that wrangling, however, she hadn’t changed her mind. She still felt it was a decision she had to make alone. It was her body, and she would have to carry the baby for eight more months if she decided to go through with it.

  Initially, she knew she wasn’t ready for a baby. Her flight to Europe was booked for February, and she still wasn’t sure how her future was going to pan out. Bringing a baby into the equation would only make working out what to do a hundred times harder.

  Ultimately, she didn’t want the baby to change her decision, because that wouldn’t be fair to her, Owen, or the baby. She didn’t want to stay because she was pregnant and scared of being alone, or to have Owen say he wanted to stay with her because of the baby. She would hate him to think she’d got pregnant on purpose to try and trap him, but equally she didn’t think she could bear it if he didn’t want the child. He’d made it pretty clear he liked her, and she knew he wanted her to stay, but that didn’t mean he was interested in kids and nappies and bottles and forever.

  This was so how she hadn’t wanted it to happen. She’d thought that one day she would find Mr. Right, and they’d get married and buy a house, and then a respectable year afterward they’d have their first child and paint the nursery and everything would fall into place.

  Then she’d felt depressed. Harry’s death had put an end to all her romantic dreams. As soon as she’d gotten on the plane, she’d known she was saying goodbye to the family life and security she’d always known. At the time, she’d welcomed the excitement as it had made her feel alive again. Now, she didn’t know what she wanted. She was scared of settling down, but also scared of being on her own.

  When had fear become such a big part of her life?

  “Penny for them.” Maisey’s voice was wry. “Are those antibiotics making you woozy?”

  “I feel a bit tired,” Skye admitted truthfully. That’s because you have another life inside you sapping your energy.

  She shook off the thought and smiled at them all. It was Tasha’s big day tomorrow—she didn’t want to ruin it by being quiet and broody. “So, are you all ready, Tash? Excited?”

  “Meh,” Tasha said, but her cheeks glowed and her eyes shone.

  “I honestly never thought Kole would settle down,” Skye said. “I don’t know how you managed that. What did you use? Voodoo?”

  “Hypnosis.” Tasha grinned. Then a flicker of hesitancy crossed her face. “It’s a big step. I mean, I know it’s what I want, but I hope he’ll be happy.”

  “Of course he’ll be happy!” Caitlin frowned. “He’s crazy about you, Tash. It’s obvious.”

/>   “I agree.” Skye leaned forward and squeezed Tasha’s arm. “I’ve never seen him as happy as this before. He looks…I don’t know, all husbandly and smug. I can picture him in ten years’ time, with six kids around him, fat and content.”

  “Are the kids fat and content, or do you mean Kole?” Maisey asked.

  “Both,” Skye said, laughing.

  “Are you planning on having a family?” Elle was the one to ask Tasha.

  “Yes, we both want kids. I think we’re going to start trying when we get back from the honeymoon. I want to be able to drink for a few weeks over Christmas before I give it up!”

  Maisey sipped her champagne, her eyes sparkling as much as the wine. “I wonder which of us will get pregnant first?” She looked around the table, and her gaze fell on Skye. She grinned.

  Skye’s heart skipped a beat. Had Joss said something to her? But Maisey looked away, her glance just passing.

  Two waiters arrived at the table carrying plates and the girls stopped talking as they sorted out whose was whose. They’d all ordered salads. New dresses the following day demanded a last chance to lose a pound or two, even Tasha, who would normally have turned her nose up at the notion of dieting.

  The waiters departed, and the girls tucked in. Caitlin raised her eyebrows at Maisey, continuing the conversation. “Are you trying too, then?”

  “Not yet. But soon, I think. What about you and Fox?”

  “Fox isn’t hugely interested in kids, but I’m bringing him around.”

  “Stuart’s the same,” Elle said. “I think being a teacher has put him off, but I’m trying to convince him that not all babies become grumpy teenagers.”

  They chuckled. “What about you?” Maisey asked Skye, her eyes mischievous. “Has Owen made you think about having babies?”

  Skye had a mouthful of chicken and lettuce, and she tried to swallow, but her throat had tightened. She coughed and sipped her water. Lie, for God’s sake. But it was as if someone had stuck a whisk in her ear and scrambled her brain, and she couldn’t think what to say.

  Tasha and Caitlin were eating, but Maisey’s eyes met Skye’s, and then Elle said, “Oh!” She was looking at Skye’s glass, and comprehension dawned on her face.

  Skye shook her head hurriedly, but it was too late. Maisey had caught on, and she inhaled sharply. “You’re kidding me?”

  Tasha and Caitlin looked up and stared.

  “No,” Skye said helplessly. “I’m not. I…”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Maisey snapped, leaning forward. “I know when you’re lying. Are you pregnant?”

  Skye closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the girls’ eyes looked as if they were about to fall onto their cheeks.

  She sat back, defeated and miserable. “Look, let’s not talk about this now. It’s Tasha’s big day tomorrow, and I don’t want to steal her thunder with lots of drama.”

  “Fuck that,” Tasha said. “This is much more important.”

  “It’s really not.”

  “It really is.” Tasha’s brows drew together. “We’re all like sisters here. Of course you should talk to us about it.”

  “Did you find out today?” Maisey looked incensed. “Joss never said anything to me.”

  “He can’t,” Skye said sharply. “I asked him not to. He’s a doctor, Maisey—you seem to keep forgetting.”

  “But this is good news, isn’t it?” Elle looked hopeful. “I mean, Owen’s going to be thrilled. It is Owen’s, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you told him yet?”

  “No. I’m…I’m not ready. I need to think about what I’m going to do.”

  “What do you mean?” Caitlin said.

  Skye pushed her plate away. “Think about it. My flight’s booked for February. I’m single and I live on the other side of the world. I’m here for a few months and I’m having a fling. I have no idea if Owen wants anything more, and even if he did, I don’t know that I do.” Even as she said it, she knew she wasn’t being honest with herself. She’d fallen for him—and that only complicated matters.

  “I don’t believe that,” Maisey said softly. “I’ve seen how you are with each other. You’re in love, and you’d make wonderful parents.”

  “That’s not the point. This wasn’t what I wanted. I don’t want to stay for the baby, and I don’t want Owen to stay with me for it, either.”

  Tasha shrugged. “That’s kind of like saying you’re trying to decide whether you’ll have an apple or a banana when you know there’s chocolate cake in the fridge. You can’t un-know that information. Every decision you make now will be made around the pregnancy—there’s not much you can do about that but accept it, and try to decide what’s best all ways round.” Tasha’s eyes were slightly flinty.

  Skye shook her head. She wasn’t ready for a lecture about how there was a life inside of her, and how she had to put the baby’s needs first. “It’s not a baby, it’s a bundle of cells, and I need to think about what I want first.”

  But even as she said it, the words rang in her ears, sounding horrifically selfish. It was foolish to pretend she hadn’t already pictured that little bundle of cells as a cute baby boy with a blue hat to match his startling blue eyes. Blue eyes that he’d gotten from his father.

  The tears came quickly, and she put her face in her hands.

  “Fuck,” Tasha said. “That was my fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” Skye shook her head, and wiped under her eyes, trying to compose herself. “I’m sorry. This is supposed to be an exciting, fun evening.”

  “I’m having great fun,” Caitlin said, “not sure about everyone else. I love talking babies.”

  Skye gave a short laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not normally like this.”

  “You’re pumped full of hormones—you’re supposed to be wussy and emotional.” Maisey leaned across the table to squeeze her arm. “Take a deep breath and calm down. Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we’ll all support you.”

  Elle fished a tissue out of her bag, and Skye blew her nose. “It’s just that this wasn’t how I wanted it to happen.”

  “Are you considering not having it?” Caitlin asked.

  Skye bit her lip. Abortion was such a sensitive subject. Everyone had their own views on it. She’d wanted to make her decision without being influenced by everyone else’s opinions, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “There’s no sin in being a single parent, but that’s not what I wanted for my kids. I’m so confused. I was having a hard enough time working out how I felt about Owen, without all this to complicate things.”

  “Do you love him?” Tasha topped up everyone’s glasses again.

  Skye opened her mouth and then shut it again. She looked out of the window. “It’s not as easy as that.”

  “Isn’t it?” Tasha was so black and white. Everything had a simple solution in her world.

  But it really wasn’t that easy.

  Was it?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The taxi drew up outside Owen’s house, and he gave Fox his share of the cost and got out.

  “Good luck,” Fox yelled as he shut the door.

  Owen waved, and the taxi reversed and headed back to the main road. He caught a brief glimpse of Joss’s white face and the others’ concerned expressions before the taxi disappeared.

  He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. Joss’s announcement had sobered Owen up quicker than a cold shower. The poor guy had been distraught, concerned he’d breached his professional code, as well as upset he’d told Owen when Skye had wanted to think about it first. Having her brother in the car hadn’t helped. Joss had previously told him how difficult Kole had been when he’d wanted to date Maisey, and Owen had been sure Kole would want his balls on a plate for making his other sister pregnant. To his surprise, however, although the guy had been quiet, he’d appeared anything but angry—in fact Owen was
sure he’d seen a small smile spread across Kole’s face. Did Kole think it might help to keep her here?

  Walking up the path to the front door, Owen wondered whether she would still be coming back to the house tonight. Clearly, she hadn’t known about the pregnancy for long. The fact that she hadn’t rung him immediately told him she needed time to think about it before she had that conversation with him. Cold filtered through him. He’d hoped she’d turn to him for something like this, not away from him.

  Jesus, he couldn’t believe it. His mind was still spinning—or was that the alcohol? Why had he drunk so much? He needed a clear head, to think about what it all meant.

  Reaching the front door, he slid his key in and turned it, and opened the door. The house was dark, and he wished he’d thought to leave a light on for Mozart.

  He walked across the wide hallway and switched on the light. Only then did he see her sitting on the sofa in the living room, Mozart at her feet. The dog jumped up and ran over to him, and he bent and fussed him up, using the moment to try and calm his pounding heart. He’d given her a key, but he’d been sure he’d be back by the time she arrived—if she arrived.

  Pushing himself up, he called out, “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she said back, but she didn’t rise.

  Realizing his hands were shaking, he went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from the fridge, then drank half of it in one go. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he walked down the steps toward her.

  She looked up at him as he approached, but still didn’t say anything. She hadn’t turned on any of the lights, and moonlight streamed through the windows, coating them both with silver. Her eyes, though, were dark hollows in her white face.

  He stopped a few feet away and surveyed her for a moment. She wouldn’t know, of course, that Joss had blabbed and told him the news. Would she announce it, or had she planned to keep it to herself for a while? What would he do if she didn’t say anything? He couldn’t not say anything. He’d never been good at keeping secrets, and wow, this was a whopper.

  “Did you have a nice evening?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. Beside them, Mozart paced up and down, picking up on the tension in the room.