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‘Liv, I can’t promise not to hurt you . . .’

‘I know that. That’s the problem.’

‘Will you let me finish? Please?’ He waited for her nod. ‘I can’t promise that I’m not going to hurt you, but I can promise to really try. I care about you, Liv. And I think you care about me too. And I’m trusting you not to hurt me, or Sarah. At least, not deliberately. You’re not callous or unkind. And I think what could be between us is worth the risk. And I’m really hoping you might agree.’

‘I can’t make you any promises, Cal.’ She shook her head.

‘And I’m not asking you to. But I am asking you to try and trust me, and give us a chance to see if this . . . if we . . . could be something really amazing.’ The gentle stroke of his fingers against her cheek sent shivers racing over her skin. ‘What do you say, Liv?’

Her voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t manage to get the words out past the lump of emotion that had lodged itself firmly there.

‘Liv?’

She could see his throat convulse as he swallowed hard, and worry darkened his eyes.

She nodded, still struggling to speak.

All of the cheesy, romantic clichés suddenly made sense to Liv as a smile spread across his face and warmed his eyes, lifting the weight from her chest that had made it so hard to breathe or speak. In the perfect, made-for-TV, stereotypical moment, the world around Liv seemed to slip into silent slow motion as Callum gently traced the line of her chin with his fingers to cup her cheek and run a gentle thumb across her lips. Heat raced across her skin and flooded through her body.

‘When I kiss you this time, it’s going to be about a lot more than just attraction and chasing a spark between us. You know that, right?’ The intensity in his eyes was scorching as he studied her.

‘Yeah, I do.’ She looped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers through his hair before pulling him gently down to meet her lips in a kiss that sent shivers all the way down to her toes.

He teased her lips gently, his hands sliding around her waist to pull her more firmly against him. The room seemed to swirl around them, and she was dizzy with his taste, smell and presence, and the feel of him holding her tightly — safe and protected from harm. When she was almost completely breathless, he pulled back slightly, leaving her gasping, and she felt his smile against her lips.

‘Is that a yes?’ His breath was hot as it mingled with hers. ‘Will you take a chance with me?’

‘Yes.’ For the first time, in she didn’t know how long, Liv felt safe and protected, and free to be herself.

Chapter Twelve

Liv sighed as she tucked the last bauble into place at the bottom of the tree, and leaned back to admire the scene around her, and how well her work blended in. The whole village square looked like it had been plucked out of a fairy tale or Christmas movie, and sparkled with hope as much as it did tinsel and glitter. Most of the decorations didn’t match, and a hefty percentage of them were clearly handmade — sometimes with more enthusiasm than skill. Reindeer jostled for space on the tree with robins, next to angels and elegant baroque style decorations that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the poshest of London hotels. Tinsel wound throughout branches across dozens of trees, and lights of every colour and size looped around and between them to light the entire square.

It couldn’t have been more different to the perfectly coiffed, painfully elegant and expertly designed tree that Mike had insisted on a few seasons earlier. And she thought it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Much like her beautiful designer shoes, Liv had never been completely enamoured with Mike’s perfectly managed approach to Christmas that had been perfectly beautiful in every way, complete with everything prepared. Right down to the shop-bought, already constructed and perfectly iced gingerbread cottage that was invariably thrown in the bin by New Year’s Eve. Perfect, elegant, soulless, and more than a little uncomfortable after a while.

She wriggled her bare toes in her garish plastic flip-flops and wondered whether the local store would have everything she needed to make gingerbread. She was sure there would be a video somewhere online that she’d be able to follow.

‘You look hot.’ Callum offered a large glass filled with amber liquid — already frosting in the summer heat. ‘In both senses of the phrase.’

‘Thanks.’ She took the glass and rested it against her cheek and neck for a moment, before grinning cheekily. ‘For this too.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He plonked himself down beside her, and chinked his glass against hers before kissing her on the cheek. ‘It looks really good here. If ever you get bored of doctoring, you could decorate instead.’

‘I hardly think so.’ She took a deep swig from her glass, ridiculously pleased at the praise — whatever she said. ‘This is good. What is it?’

‘Spiced apple. There’s an alcoholic version too, but . . .’

‘But we’re never really not on call.’

‘Exactly. Especially when there’s so many people up and down ladders today, and opportunities to trip over cables, fake snow, staging and whatever else. Not to mention dehydration and sunburn.’

‘No. Please don’t mention it.’ Liv raised her eyes to the heavens.

‘Besides, imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to topple head over heels and smack your head. Again.’

‘Hey! I did have some help falling over last time.’