83
It turns out to be the most amazing Christmas day ever.
Dad, Denise, Michael, Annabel and Daniel, Jen and Leo and Tom and Tanya all end up sitting in our huge living room, in front of the roaring fire.
We talk and laugh and drink and eat, and spend a lot of time watching baby Ivy.
‘This is the happiest I’ve ever been,’ I tell Marc, snuggling up by the fire.
‘Do you think Ivy might be too hot?’ says Marc, ever the anxious parent.
‘I think she’s just fine. Look at all the love in this room. How could she ever come to any harm?’
Marc’s jaw hardens. ‘I’d die before any harm came to her.’
‘I know. Me too.’
Jen gazes at Ivy, her hand tight in Leo’s.
‘Maybe we could have one of these soon?’ says Leo, giving Jen a playful wink.
‘Are you kidding me?’ says Jen. ‘I’ve literally just started my business. And we haven’t even got married yet.’
‘So let’s hurry up and get married. Fly to Vegas tonight. Get it done and dusted, then have a baby.’
‘LEO!’ says Jen. ‘I’ve been planning this wedding for months. It’s going to be the event of the century.’
‘So un-plan it. You know what they say. The cheaper the wedding, the longer the marriage.’
Jen smiles. ‘I would love to have a baby with you. You know that, don’t you?’
‘I know. So let’s do it.’
Jen rolls her eyes. ‘Leo! Sometimes things have to be planned.’
‘But the best things are always spontaneous.’ Leo plants a loud kiss on Jen’s cheek. ‘If we have a baby next year, it will be the same age as Ivy here. They can be best friends.’
‘Mine and Sophia’s children will be best friends no matter what their age,’ says Jen confidently.
Baby Ivy is on best behaviour when our family and friends are around. But as they say their goodbyes, she begins to get restless.
No amount of feeding, rocking or shushing will calm her down.
‘Perhaps she’s coming down with something,’ says Marc, his voice full of concern. ‘I should call the doctor.’
‘Marc. It’s okay. She always gets like this at the end of the day. Let’s just take her for a walk.’
‘It’s freezing out there,’ says Marc.
‘And you’ve bought her enough thermal outfits to survive the Antarctic,’ I point out. ‘Come on. She just needs some fresh air to help her sleep.’
Reluctantly, Marc helps me bundle Ivy into the pram, wrapped in clothes and blankets.
We push her outside over the gravel and I look up at the clear, black sky.
The second Ivy hits the fresh air she quietens down.
‘See?’ I tell Marc, pushing the pram over the gravel. ‘She just needed a walk. That’s all. Let’s take her across the fields.’
Marc and I push Ivy along dark country lanes, watching her beautiful pale little face as her eyes gently close. Pretty soon she’s fast asleep.
‘I am going to give this little baby everything,’ says Marc. ‘I will take care of her for the rest of her life.’
‘Don’t spoil her,’ I say.
‘Of course I’ll spoil her,’ says Marc. ‘That’s my job as her father.’
‘You’re not disappointed you didn’t have a son then?’ I ask.
‘What do you think?’
‘I know you’re not.’
‘I said all along I didn’t mind about the sex. But I suppose I just assumed … the Blackwell’s always have sons first.’
‘Well I guess she’s not a Blackwell then.’
‘Oh yes she is. But she’s my rose too. Just like you.’
Want an exclusive early release and promo price for Marc and Sophia’s next book?
Join my mailing list here:
SK Quinn exclusive readers list
(http://eepurl.com/CQFRD)
Or
Friend me on Facebook
Obey Mr Blackwell
will be released in Winter 2015.
But before then, here’s an exclusive working sample of my new paranormal romance series …
SEXY DEVIL
“A devilishly beautiful and sizzlingly sexy paranormal romance by bestselling author, SK Quinn.”
Eve has always been a good girl and a model university student. So when devilishly charming Lucien Burns starts pursuing her, she’s wary.
Charismatic and seductive, Lucian is known for his wild parties and serial seductions.
But there are rumours. Lucian is powerful. He can get into people’s heads. He’s dangerous. And things happen when Lucien is around. Things that can’t be explained.
Soon Eve begins to wonder who she’s falling for …
“You’ve never met a bad boy like this … Lucien is dark, dangerous and sexy as hell.”
1
‘And the Devil will walk among us …’
When I was little, my nana used to tell me about angels and devils. She told me to watch out for handsome, charming men. Because they could be devils tempting me from the right path.
‘Lucien Burns? Who’s he?’ I hug books to my chest.
Kitty and I are leaving the campus bookshop, having just blown our book budget.
I bought all the books on my reading list.
Kitty bought ‘How to Win at Poker’ and three sci fi novels.
‘How can you not have heard of Lucien Burns?’ Kitty asks. ‘He’s notorious.’
We cross the big snake mosaic that covers the campus main square and head over a stone bridge.
I read a sign on the moat house
.
Grail University – for exceptional students.
I’ve never felt exceptional. Okay, so I do well at exams. But I’m so ordinary it’s ridiculous.
For a time, nana thought I might change – like my mother did. But if I was going to change, I’d have changed already.
‘What exactly is this Lucien guy notorious for?’ I ask, as we head through the herb garden. All sorts of plants grow here. I smell lemon and lavender.
We cross another bridge and the moat becomes a river – Grail River. It runs from campus down to Grail town.
‘Oh – many things,’ says Kitty. ‘But mainly sleeping with half the female students.’
Kitty is my best friend. We met on our first day at university and just sort of clicked. She looks sort of like a punk pixie, with her cropped pink hair. Basically the opposite of me, with my nice-young-lady clothes and long blondey brown hair.
A pigeon flies towards us.
‘Hey look.’ Kitty points. ‘It’s Florence.’
At the beginning of term, I found a baby pigeon on our balcony. I made the mistake of feeding her and giving her a name. Now she’s all grown up and brings me presents.
Crap presents.
Florence lands on the grass beside me and drops a muddy shoelace at my feet.
‘Thank you,’ I say, pretending to admire the shoelace. ‘Go find food now Florence. You shouldn’t waste your time bringing me things.’
Florence cocks her head.
**‘You want me to put it in my pocket, don’t you?’ With a sigh, I push the sopping wet shoelace into my dungarees.
Satisfied, Florence flies off.
‘That bird thinks you’re her mother,’ says Kitty.
‘I know. I’m an idiot. But I love that bird.’
‘You’re many things Eve, but an idiot you are not.’
2
Across the lawn, I see our campus accommodation.
Kitty and I are staying at the Tall Tower, which is a beautiful curved-brick building on the edge of campus. It has little arched windows and turrets and couldn’t be more perfect.
I literally hugged myself when I found out I was staying there. Hugged myself and shrieked down the phone to my nana, who shrieked right back.
Eve, that’s where Gabriella stayed! Oh … it’s perfect.
My mother, Gabriella Lightfoot, went to Grail in the 1970s. There are no pictures. But that’s another story.
‘So anyway, this Lucien guy. Why would he be asking about me?’
Kitty shrugs. ‘Maybe he’s heard you’re a goody-two shoes and wants to see if he can get you into bed.’
‘A goody-two shoes?’
‘You
do
spend every evening studying. Or playing netball. Or visiting your grandmother …’
‘Family is important.’
‘You haven’t had one night out since we started uni.’
‘I have actually,’ I point out. ‘That club night at the beginning of term. Remember?’
‘You left at ten o’clock.’
‘Okay. Yes. I did. But nana wasn’t feeling very well -’
‘And you wore the sort of dress most people would wear to a wedding. It went all the way down to the knee.’
‘It was elegant.’
‘It was old. I’d kill to have legs like yours. And those curves … if you’ve got it, flaunt it. This is your
time
to do wild, rebellious stuff. Do you want your only university memories to be of your bedroom walls?’
‘I have to study hard if -’
‘I know, I know. You’re going to solve world hunger. I’m not saying don’t study. I’m just saying don’t miss out on the fun stuff.’
‘Maybe I’ll try and go out more this term.’
‘You should. You’re
gorgeous
.’
‘Oh, I am
not
. I’m just ordinary. Anyway, I don’t understand what’s fun about getting drunk and sleeping with people you hardly know.’
‘That’s because you’ve never tried it.’
‘So you think I should sleep with this Lucien guy? Some heartbreaker who sleeps around?’
‘It would be an experience. Probably a good one.’
‘No way. What kind of man messes girls around like that? He sounds like an arsehole.’
‘Look, I wouldn’t set you up with someone who had a girlfriend, would I? He just plays the field.’
‘How do you know him exactly?’
‘He shares accommodation with Cain. I saw a girl leaving Lucien’s room last week … oh my god she was
glowing
. I’m telling you. Saying it was the best night she’d ever had -’
‘I would never tread on another girl’s toes.’
‘She seemed happy enough with her one night.’
‘Come on Kitty. You know me. I don’t do one night stands.’
‘Well maybe he’ll fall in love with you.’
‘Why would I want anything to do with a guy who treats girls like that?’
‘Because he’ll know what he’s doing.’
‘Not interested.’ I shuffle books in my arms as we walk across the grassy lawn. ‘I’m saving myself for true love.’
‘What if you fall in love with someone and find out the sex is terrible?’
‘Then we’ll work together to make it wonderful.’
We cross the little wooden bridge that leads to the Tower, and Kitty pulls out her door key. We both have old wrought-iron keys that were made hundreds of years ago. They fit the clunky lock in the big oak door, and the admission’s secretary told us to guard them with our lives.
‘Home sweet home.’
I look up at the tall, red-brick building and shield my eyes from the sun.
We got so lucky with our Halls of Residence. I absolutely love tall buildings. Anything that takes me into the sky.
The Tall Tower is the highest building on campus and has a spiral staircase that winds all the way up to the top.
Right now, Kitty and I are the only students here, but that’s going to change soon. Some new foreign students are due to arrive in the next few weeks.
Kitty’s poker guide slips out of her hand and tumbles towards the ground.
She makes a grab for it, but I get there first, snatching it from the air with my fingers.
‘You know, sometimes I think you have Jedi powers,’ says Kitty.
‘Just good reflexes.’
‘That’s what you always say. But I’ve never met anyone as fast as you.’
It’s true. I have always been fast. But like I say, if I was going to change, I’d have changed already.
3
When I get back to my bedroom, I put my flip-flops neatly under my desk. Then I strip off my muddy-pocketed dungarees and hang them on my iron bedstead.
I hear a wolf whistle from the corridor, and realise Kitty is getting an eyeful of my extremely plain pink panties.
‘Nice of your grandma to lend you some underwear,’ she says.
‘Nothing wrong with comfortable,’ I say. ‘Marks and Spencers very best.’
Kitty’s one of those good friends who can tell me the truth about everything. And I love her for it.
I mean, yes – we’re different. Kitty hangs out with the alternative crowd, partying all night. And I’m little miss goody two shoes, always in the library or playing netball. But we’re the same in the important ways. We’re considerate and we care about each other.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m as ‘goody two shoes’ as I act. I mean, I’m always drawn to people like Kitty. People who have a rebellious streak. Maybe there’s more to me than meets the eye.
I pull on cropped jeans and a striped jumper, then line my new study books on the shelf over my desk. Then I reorder them by colour so they make a rainbow.
Now study books slot between my encyclopaedias of birds and illustrated wildlife guides. I have a thing about birds. I just love them.
Nana’s cottage has a huge garden, and we’re always sitting out there together throwing chunks of bread to the sparrows.
As I arrange my books, my hand finds a thick, leather folder sitting by a wooden owl bookend. It has a snake stamped on it.
I consider taking it down and looking through, but instead I let my fingers fall from the soft leather. If I look in that folder now, I’ll be pouring over papers until midnight. And I have studying to do.
I sit down at my desk and arrange my notepad square. Then I dust the framed photo of my grandma with a clean tissue, put on my black-rimmed reading glasses, tie my curly browny-blonde hair back and open a study book.
Usually I’m great at concentrating. But for some reason, today I can’t.
Lucien Burns, Lucien Burns …
The name feels sort of familiar. Maybe I’ve heard Kitty talk about him before. He’s good friends with Kitty’s boyfriend Cain, I think. Which means he’s definitely trouble. Cain is always taking Kitty to wild parties.
Really
wild parties.
I look at Nana’s picture.
‘Why would a boy be asking about me, Nana?’
Nana smiles back, her black skin folded into creases around her mouth.
I see myself reflected in the glass – sandy brown hair turning blonde. Blue eyes. Pale skin. Longish face. A few freckles on my nose.
Overall, I’m pretty unremarkable I think. Just ordinary looking.
My grandmother is beautiful, with glowing black skin and motown waves.
People always wonder how Nana and I are related.
I used to say I inherited my father’s looks. But that always led to too many questions. So now I just say that genetics can be funny.