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Lie to Me by Lisa Lace (52)

Melissa

I wake up on Christmas morning beside Henry. The first thing I do is pick up my cell from the bedside table and check to see if I have any messages from Connor. I’ve tried to call him daily since I’ve been in England, but he doesn’t answer. I’m sure he’s still mad at me, but it still makes my stomach churn with worry.

We’re five hours ahead of Massachusetts, but I send him a message anyway. Merry Christmas, Connor. Thinking of you. Don’t forget the presents are under the tree. I can Skype you today if you like. I love you xx

I place the cell down, then roll back toward Henry, wrapping my arms around him. His body is warm and firm. Henry instinctively tightens his arms around me when I snuggle against him, and I feel his cheeks lifting in a smile before I look up and see him grinning.

“Merry Christmas.”

I smile. “Merry Christmas.”

Henry kisses me. “I was having a dream about you.”

“You were?”

“We were having Christmas dinner; me, Alexander, Olivia, and my parents. Irene’s daughter brought out this giant Christmas pudding. Then, just as my father went to cut into it, you popped out and gave him the middle finger. You were completely naked.”

I laugh out loud. “Are you serious?”

“I am indeed. Do you think my subconscious is trying to tell you something?”

“That I’m ruining your family’s Christmas?”

Henry chuckles. “It was a good dream. I’ve woken up feeling like I want to hold you close and never let you go—you rebellious little homewrecker, you.”

“You McDonald’s-munching, eats-in-seats heathen.”

We both start laughing. What started as an excruciatingly awkward situation with Henry’s parents has ultimately served to bring us closer together. It’s us against the world.

“So, what does Christmas day look like in the Southby household?”

“We start by sacrificing one of the town’s poor to the gods of etiquette, then serve a roast of ostrich stuffed with goose stuffed with chicken stuffed with a blackbird stuffed with a quail. When dinner is done, we strike the giant gong, then commence the annual counting of our gold.”

“Wow. Sounds like a wonderful day.”

“We really like to get into the spirit of things at the Southby estate.”

I burst into giggles and straddle Henry so I can kiss him all over his face. He rests his hands on my hips and looks up at me with utter devotion.

“Should I worry about any of your hundreds and hundreds of former lovers jumping out of the Christmas pudding today?”

Henry sits up, and his expression grows serious. “I’m sorry they said those things to you. I want you to know I would never disrespect you, and I’m not going to use you, then throw you away. You’re about the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to ever lose you. You’re precious to me.”

I lean forward and kiss his lips softly. “I know that, you plonker. You’re precious to me, too.”

Every time I go to say “I love you,” I hold it in. Everything is so perfect the way it is, I don’t want to say it too soon—no matter how deeply I might feel it.

“‘Plonker,’” Henry repeats with a grin. “God, I love it when you use British words.”

I strike a seductive pose, lean down over Henry, and whisper teasingly into his ear. “Plonker, prat, biscuit, cuppa.”

He growls playfully, grabs me by the waist, and flips me onto my back. He covers my mouth and throat with kisses while he tickles me, and I screech with laughter.

“Ssh!” Henry teases. “They’re all going to hear you having fun!” He tickles me until I’m howling with laughter. “Don’t! You’re not allowed to feel joy!”

I thump him playfully on the arm until he relents. “You joke, but they’re probably downstairs now, judging me.”

“You know, they’d really judge you if they heard you screaming my name.” He slips his hands between my legs.

I bite down on my lip. “Mmm. I’d love to, but I promised Olivia we’d be down by eleven for gifts.”

Henry makes a face. “There’s only one thing I want for Christmas this year.”

I kiss him deeply. “Tonight, I’ll scream your name until your father disowns you,” I promise. “Tonight.”

I pick up the tin of Quality Street I bought for Henry’s parents at the airport. “I don’t feel so bad about getting them a crap gift now.”

Next, I rummage around in the bags from yesterday’s shopping trip until I find the loud, multi-colored parrot-print chiffon scarf I bought for Olivia, which I’ve already wrapped.

Henry smiles. “Olivia will love that. She used to wear things like that all the time.”

“I know,” I say. “She told me your mother used to call them garish. She was telling me how she regretted throwing them all away, and how she wished she’d had more confidence to stand up to her when she first started dating Alexander. I think our little act of defiance may very well start a mutiny in the Southby estate.”

“Hurrah. Let’s bloody hope so.”

I grin as a pull out a matching parrot-print pocket square. “I couldn’t forget Alexander, of course.”

Henry laughs. “He’s going to hate it. It’s perfect.” He pulls me close and squeezes tight. “I love your sense of mischief.”

Just tell me you love me.

“Shall we go downstairs? The sooner we get through this Christmas, the sooner we can get to you screaming my name.”

“Let me get changed first.”

“All right.”

I get dressed in a Christmas-hat swing dress and even pull a novelty Santa hat onto my head. I’ve blown it with Henry’s parents already; might as well have fun.

We head downstairs to the library. The room is filled with shelves crowded with first editions, and leather wing chairs. In the center of the room, stands one of a total of eight of the mansion’s Christmas trees. It’s decorated sublimely in tasteful whites and golds.

The Southby family sits around like a still-screen taken from Great Expectations. Walter and Diane sit straight-backed and stern on an ivy-green leather chesterfield, while Alexander sits regally on a wing chair, with Olivia curled up at his feet on the ankle-high carpet.

Everyone exchanges their presents. The experience is almost overwhelming to witness. The extravagance is mind-blowing.

Alexander receives a platinum and diamond encrusted Parker pen, as well as an exceptionally expensive piece of artwork for his home. Olivia is gifted a gorgeous sapphire necklace. Henry receives a watch that I’ve seen retail for around $80,000. It’s a jaw-dropping display of wealth.

I receive a box of Quality Street smaller than the one I bought for Henry’s parents.

They offer a stilted apology. “I’m sorry for such a token gift,” Diane says, “but we didn’t know you’d be coming, you see. We don’t know you well enough to get you anything meaningful.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” I say, throwing Henry a cheeky grin.

Olivia squeals with delight when she opens her scarf, and then she squeals louder when Alexander opens his pocket square.

“Oh, Lissy! They’re beautiful!” she gushes. She turns to Alexander, slapping her hand on his knee with excitement. “Can we wear them to Jesus College’s garden party?”

Alexander pales. “We’ll see, darling. It depends what colors we’ll be wearing.”

“I have the perfect dress.”

Dinner is another excruciatingly formal affair, although it was quite something to see the Christmas pudding come out in flames. I watched with interest as Henry found a sixpence in his portion.

He grins at me. “It’s good luck.”

After a short and business-like Christmas dinner, everybody goes their separate ways. Walter has business to attend to, Diane is going to a charity event, and Alexander and Olivia are returning to their own home.

Henry and I take the opportunity to spend some time alone in the library. It’s peaceful in there without the other Southbys. Henry pours me some sherry into a tiny crystal glass, and we sit cross-legged together in front of the Christmas tree.

Henry followed suit when I put on my festive dress and defied his family’s tradition by wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with a Rudolph whose real light-up nose has been flashing all day. His skin is flushed from Christmas spirit and sherry, his blonde hair ruffled. His smile is wide and genuine.

The main lights are off in the library; we sit by the twinkle of the lights on the tree. It’s quiet and intimate. I love the way the lights flicker across Henry’s face as he smiles. I wish I could snapshot this very moment. For me, this will always be Christmas.

I have Henry’s gift on my lap, but he offers something to me first.

“I want you to have this,” he says, handing me the sixpence from the pudding. “It’s meant to bring good luck to whoever finds it, but I’ve already been lucky this year. I met you. Hopefully, it will bring you a little closer to your dreams.”

I clutch it to my chest with a heartfelt smile. It’s perfect.

I don’t want or expect anything more, but Henry hands me a second gift. This one is small and neatly wrapped in shiny blue paper and a white ribbon.

“Henry,” I say softly. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“I wanted to.”

I pull the ribbon away, then gently pull apart the paper. It doesn’t matter what’s inside; I’m already touched by Henry’s thoughtfulness. When I open the little box inside the paper, my heart melts.

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. On a soft velour pad, the little jewelry box holds a stunning yet understated pendant necklace with a circle around a star in the middle, its points directed north, east, south, and west. It glitters in the dancing light of the tree.

“It’s gorgeous.”

Henry lifts the necklace from its box and moves behind me to fasten it around my neck. “It’s a compass rose,” he tells me. “You doubt yourself so often, but you always pull through. I want this to remind you that no matter how difficult the journey, you should trust that you’ll find your way. With strength and courage like yours, I know you always will.”

Tears fill my eyes, and I lean forward to kiss Henry passionately. “Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received—the necklace and the message. I’ll never take it off.” I pick up the slim gift I brought for Henry. “My gift seems awful now.”

“Can I open it?”

Reluctantly, I hand it over.

Henry kisses me before he’s even opened it. Slowly, he pulls back the paper and then turns over the present in his hands. It’s a leather-bound work planner, embossed with his name in gold.

“I know lately you’ve been thinking more about what you want to do after your MBA,” I tell him. “I got this for you so you’re prepared when you make it big—because I know you will. You’ve got it in you to do whatever you want, all on your own.”

He looks down at the soft leather and looks genuinely touched. “It means everything to me that you believe in me. I respect and admire you—to think I’m not a complete screw-up in your eyes means the world.”

I shuffle across the carpet to sit in between Henry’s legs. I wrap his arms around me and lift my face to look up at him. “I love you.”