All I Want For Christmas by Julie Coffin Page B

father’s knees. ‘Come and see what Father Christmas put in my stocking, Daddy. Lots and lots and lots.’
    â€˜First things first, little Zoe,’ he said, carefully removing a sprig of mistletoe from the buttonhole of his jacket as he stepped into the hall.
    Fascinated, Lauren watched as he held the green-leaved twig over his daughter’s dark head, then bent and kissed her.
    â€˜Lauren says we must do everything according to tradition on Christmas day, Zoe,’ he said, straightening up again, with the mistletoe held high.
    â€˜Kiss Lauren, too, then, Daddy,’ Zoe instructed.
    His head turned and, before Lauren could move away, his lips met hers.
    She was aware of a faint trace of spice. That his skin was cold from the outside air. That his mouth was gentle and undemanding. And then it was gone, leaving her with a strange sense of regret.
    â€˜Now, come and see all my presents, Daddy. They’re upstairs in my bedroom. I had a really, really ginormous stocking and it was filled right to the top, and there was—’
    The little girl’s voice died away when she reached the top of the stairs and went into her bedroom. Lauren pushed the front door shut. She was surrounded by a feeling of déjà vu— only this time, there was no mistaking that this really had been a kiss.
    The turkey was still on the table when she went into the kitchen. Automatically she spooned the juices over it, re-wrapped its foil, and replaced it in the oven, while her mind whirled with a turmoil of thoughts.
    Why did I just stand there? Why didn’t I move away? He’s probably spent the morning with that piece of mistletoe, kissing every nurse in sight. It’s the kind of think Rick would do.
    But even as she thought it, she knew she was wrong. No matter how great their similarity in looks, Matthew and her ex-husband were as unalike as chalk and cheese.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Zoe was back in the kitchen before Lauren realised. ‘Daddy said you’d want me to help you some more.’
    He was getting her presents in from the car, Lauren remembered. To put round the tree.
    â€˜Of course I do, poppet. How about finding the glass dishes for the orange and grapefruit starter? They’re in that cupboard. Only be very, very careful how you carry them, won’t you?’
    Holding her breath, Lauren watched as the little girl crossed the kitchen with each small cut-glass bowl, until the last one was safely on the table.
    â€˜I’ll do it,’ Zoe insisted, dipping a spoon into the basin of fruit.
    She was still filling the bowls when Matthew came to join them, one eyebrow lifting in a question mark when he saw her.
    â€˜I’m helping Lauren, like you said, Daddy.’
    â€˜Can I help as well?’
    Zoe shook her head. ‘No, Daddy. It’s dinner-time now. Lauren and me have got it all ready, so you’d better go and sit down at the table.’
    * * *
    Sitting on the floor, wearing a red paper crown, Lauren decided she’d eaten, and definitely drunk, far too much. It was easily done on a day like this. Now, as they drank strong dark coffee, it was present-opening time. Zoe was in charge.
    The pile of presents had grown to at least five times its original size since the previous night. All Zoe’s, smuggled in earlier. Lauren yawned in the warmth of the blazing wood fire and settled her head back against the arm of Matthew’s chair.
    Through half-closed lashes, she glanced up at him. His thin good-looking face was smiling as he watched his daughter’s excitement.
    â€˜Just what I really, really wanted. How did Father Christmas know?’ she kept repeating, while the heap of torn wrapping paper grew around her.
    Matthew suddenly leaned forward as the little girl picked up a flat, oblong, holly-papered box. ‘Wait, Zoe. That one’s for Lauren.’
    Bemused, Lauren took it.
    â€˜Just a small thank-you,’ he said quietly.
    Carefully, she began