A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

A Series of Unwanted Close Ups

Billie was proven right in her suspicions, when he stepped into the kitchen, turned sharply around, and pulled her closer - and proceeded with that signature lean-in of his, his body sort of tilted, his face angled to hers.

"Allora..." he purred and raised one eyebrow.

It seemed that Billie had fully accepted her utilitarian function - and she gingerly pinched his jumper with her thumb and index finger, and gave it a minuscule tug.

He crashed his lips into her. There was no Rhett Butler's 'softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thing in a dizzy swaying world.' Billie had always been highly sceptical about the validity of Mitchell's description; and yet, here was Dair, and indeed, 'his insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves."

A few seconds later, her knees buckled; and he picked her up under her arms and plopped her backside onto the stool she'd been sitting on before. He wedged himself between her knees and pressed into her.

And then he tore himself off her, his hands on two sides of her seat; and he dropped his head - and growled. Billie hadn't got the foggiest what was happening; but he looked almost distressed so she clumsily patted his shoulder with a tense open palm.

"I sh-shouldn't have had wine," he snarled, baring his teeth. "Che palle! You're too...deliziosa." He kissed her again, slower and more tenderly now; and it properly felt like he was savouring her. "Come una p-pesca..."

"If you're snogging there, take a breather," Ulla's jolly voice came from outside the kitchen. "We're bringing dishes."

Billie winced away from Dair; but instead of moving away, he suddenly scooped and hiked up her leg. The inside of her thigh pressed against his hard, hot hip. A strangled noise gurgled in Billie's throat. She understood that he was using her to shield the physiological reaction of his body. She could just die of embarrassment!

Ulla carried a stack of plates in, and left; and then Rhys showed up with a tray full of dishes. While Holyoakes shuttled in and out, and Dair was taking slow calming breaths; Billie sat, hiding her face into his chest. She decided that as soon as he could afford letting her go, she'd run.

"Do you need help?" Rhys asked at some point.

Billie very much did, but he was evidently addressing his cousin.

"With what?" Dair asked, his voice merry.

"With finding coffee," Rhys answered, unfazed.

"Ah, no, grazie. C-clem showed me yesterday."

"Ace." Rhys chuckled. "By the way, I'm the one driving everyone. I didn't drink. But you two can just stay over."

Billie jolted - and Dair's hand lay on the back of her neck. He must have guessed her imminent reaction, and was stopping her from floundering, protesting, and rushing to the hall in search of her jacket.

"It's only Nana, Clem, and the twins in the house; and there's another bedroom," Rhys continued.

"V-va bene."

Rhys left in the direction of quiet piano notes, which were no doubt the vicar practising his accompaniment.

Billie shoved Dair away. "Eric!"

"Sì, sì, I know."

He booped her nose with his finger and marched away from her to the cabinet wall.

"I'm not staying in your family home! At night! To say nothing of the same bedroom with you! Why didn't you correct him?!"

Dair took out one of those Italian coffee-making gizmos and a bag of beans.