Read White-Hot Christmas for Free Online

saucers. This English academic definitely had red blood running beneath the surface.
    On impulse he said, “Want to go for a walk?”
    She blinked. “Oh. Er, sure.” She glanced at her sister, who grinned, amused. Merle turned her back on her and smiled at Neon. “Maybe you can tell me what some of those plants are growing along the beach.”
    Bree snorted.
    He raised his eyebrows. “Less of the incredulousness, missy. I’m an expert on New Zealand botany, if you must know.”
    Merle let him pull her to her feet again and dusted herself. “Really?”
    “Absolutely. That’s a tree and that’s a flower—what more do you want to know?” He smiled as they laughed, and he handed Merle her wide-brimmed hat. “Don’t want you getting burned.”
    “Thanks.”
    Bree winked at her sister. “Have a nice nature trail.” She lifted her hand as if to wave at Merle, but spread her fingers as if indicating the number five. Merle frowned at her, and Bree grinned and covered her face with her hat.
    Merle stepped over Bree and scuffed sand over her before following him along the beach. Clearly they had been talking about something that embarrassed her. What was it? Something to do with him?
    The day was growing long, and some of the group had gone up to the beach house to light the barbecue for dinner. It was his favourite time of the day, the sun low on the horizon, the air humid and sultry. Merle’s skin was a light pink in spite of the fact that she’d applied lotion several times during the day. She didn’t say anything for a while as they walked, and neither did he. Their bodies seemed to be having a conversation of their own. He was very aware of her pale arm next to his, the glisten of moisture in the V of her breasts, and the sexy sway of her hips.
    “I’m sorry for earlier,” she said eventually.
    “Hmm?”
    “For insulting you, about Shakespeare. I didn’t mean it. I’m not normally so rude.”
    He laughed. “No worries.” But he appreciated the apology.
    “Does this pattern mean anything?” She indicated the tattoo on his upper arm, her finger lightly tracing the black design. A shiver ran through him.
    “Well, this is a koru—a curled-up silver fern. The fern’s the symbol for New Zealand—you’ve probably seen it on the All Blacks’ national rugby team shirt, and the Silver Ferns are the national netball team. You’ll see the pattern everywhere here.”
    “Yes, I thought I’d seen it before.” She looked up at him. She had beautiful dark blue eyes, but he found them difficult to read. What was she thinking? He picked up a flat stone and skimmed it into the ocean, conscious of her watching him.
    She cleared her throat. “What are those beautiful trees with the red flowers? I’ve seen them everywhere.”
    “Pohutukawa.” He led her over to them. “We call them our Christmas trees because they always flower at this time of year. See—I do know something about plants.” He smiled and she laughed, then repeated the word perfectly. He raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive—it usually takes people several goes to get that right.”
    “I have an ear for languages.”
    “Oh? Can you speak any others?” He ducked under an overhanging branch. A couple of the trees formed a natural nook by a cluster of rocks. He sat on one, and she perched across from him. Her sundress had a split at the bottom and it now parted, revealing her pale and shapely legs to mid-thigh. Her hands rested on the rock, and as she leaned forward, her breasts strained at the fabric, and he had a terrific view down her cleavage. Wow, she was hot. He blinked and tried to concentrate on her face.
    “I’m fluent in French and German, and I can get by in Spanish and Italian. And I can insult you in several other languages.”
    He laughed. “Go on then.”
    She thought about it. “ Caesar si viveret, ad remum dareris .”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It’s Latin—it means ‘If Caesar were alive, you’d be