guaranteed a prize and she insisted that Quinn should keep the tiny plastic duck with an improbable Santa hat.
Next was the giant Ferris wheel; it was rather faster-moving than the sedate pace of the London Eye, and it was also open to the elements rather than having completely enclosed cars, so they could feel the chill of the night air against their faces. ‘Just look at that,’ she said, when they got to the top. ‘It’s so pretty.’ They could see the whole park spread out below them. ‘It looks like a fairy tale.’
He coughed. ‘Isn’t that the whole point of a Winter Fantasia, Carissa? To look like a fairy tale?’
She ignored the Grinchness of his comment. ‘The lights make it look as if there’s a sprinkle of snow on the trees.’ Added to the scents of cinnamon and ginger and vanilla in the air, it was just perfect and she loved it.
Quinn said nothing, and she realised then that he didn’t believe in fairy tales, not even deep down.
Who had crushed his belief in magic? she wondered. He never spoke about his family, and he’d gone very quiet after meeting hers. Maybe like her he’d lost both his parents, but maybe unlike her he hadn’t had any support from the rest of his family.
And then there had been that heartfelt comment that she wasn’t high maintenance. She had the distinct feeling that someone had broken his heart, and that was why Quinn kept people at a distance. He’d seemed to let her close for that moment on the ice when he’d kissed her—but then he’d gone right back into his shell again.
She knew there was no point in asking him, because he wouldn’t tell her. He’d just change the subject or ask her something to distract her. Quinn O’Neill was a very private man.
Although Carissa had sworn never to get involved with anyone after Justin, she found herself drawn to Quinn. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met before. But she had the feeling that he found it as hard to trust as she did. They were both damaged. So they really ought to be sensible about this and stick to being just neighbours and colleagues on Project Sparkle business.
She had to work to suppress the urge to lean over and touch her mouth to his, but she’d managed to get herself back under control by the time their car on the Ferris wheel stopped at the bottom to let them out.
They walked down the avenue together, browsing along more stalls.
Quinn won a coconut on the coconut shy, and presented it to her with a bow.
Then they came to the roller-coaster.
‘We don’t have to do this one,’ Carissa said.
Quinn looked surprised. ‘Why not? Are you scared of heights?’
She shook her head. ‘Not heights exactly—it’s just the bit where you go over the hump at the top and rush downhill. The same as when you go over a hump-backed bridge and your stomach swoops.’
He tsked at her, shaking his head solemnly. ‘Now, who was it who called me chicken and said we had to do everything?’
She knew he was only teasing, but at the same time he did have a point. She forced herself to damp down her fear. ‘OK. Let’s do it.’
‘I was kidding,’ he said, suddenly looking anxious. ‘We can skip it if you’d rather.’
‘No. I can do this.’ And maybe pushing herself a bit further here physically might help her to be braver when it came to more emotional stuff. Maybe she could learn to put the rest of her fears behind her and start to learn to trust.
As the car creaked slowly up the first hill of the roller-coaster, Carissa felt her skin grow clammy. Just before they reached the top, Quinn took her hand. ‘On the count of three, we’re going to raise our arms and shout “Christmas”,’ he told her.
It shocked her into forgetting to be scared.
Was Quinn O’Neill finally seeing the magic?
He still had his fingers laced through hers when he raised his arms, and both of them shouted ‘Christmas’. Carissa could feel the rush of adrenalin and the wind in her hair and the fear just melted away.
Next was the giant Ferris wheel; it was rather faster-moving than the sedate pace of the London Eye, and it was also open to the elements rather than having completely enclosed cars, so they could feel the chill of the night air against their faces. ‘Just look at that,’ she said, when they got to the top. ‘It’s so pretty.’ They could see the whole park spread out below them. ‘It looks like a fairy tale.’
He coughed. ‘Isn’t that the whole point of a Winter Fantasia, Carissa? To look like a fairy tale?’
She ignored the Grinchness of his comment. ‘The lights make it look as if there’s a sprinkle of snow on the trees.’ Added to the scents of cinnamon and ginger and vanilla in the air, it was just perfect and she loved it.
Quinn said nothing, and she realised then that he didn’t believe in fairy tales, not even deep down.
Who had crushed his belief in magic? she wondered. He never spoke about his family, and he’d gone very quiet after meeting hers. Maybe like her he’d lost both his parents, but maybe unlike her he hadn’t had any support from the rest of his family.
And then there had been that heartfelt comment that she wasn’t high maintenance. She had the distinct feeling that someone had broken his heart, and that was why Quinn kept people at a distance. He’d seemed to let her close for that moment on the ice when he’d kissed her—but then he’d gone right back into his shell again.
She knew there was no point in asking him, because he wouldn’t tell her. He’d just change the subject or ask her something to distract her. Quinn O’Neill was a very private man.
Although Carissa had sworn never to get involved with anyone after Justin, she found herself drawn to Quinn. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met before. But she had the feeling that he found it as hard to trust as she did. They were both damaged. So they really ought to be sensible about this and stick to being just neighbours and colleagues on Project Sparkle business.
She had to work to suppress the urge to lean over and touch her mouth to his, but she’d managed to get herself back under control by the time their car on the Ferris wheel stopped at the bottom to let them out.
They walked down the avenue together, browsing along more stalls.
Quinn won a coconut on the coconut shy, and presented it to her with a bow.
Then they came to the roller-coaster.
‘We don’t have to do this one,’ Carissa said.
Quinn looked surprised. ‘Why not? Are you scared of heights?’
She shook her head. ‘Not heights exactly—it’s just the bit where you go over the hump at the top and rush downhill. The same as when you go over a hump-backed bridge and your stomach swoops.’
He tsked at her, shaking his head solemnly. ‘Now, who was it who called me chicken and said we had to do everything?’
She knew he was only teasing, but at the same time he did have a point. She forced herself to damp down her fear. ‘OK. Let’s do it.’
‘I was kidding,’ he said, suddenly looking anxious. ‘We can skip it if you’d rather.’
‘No. I can do this.’ And maybe pushing herself a bit further here physically might help her to be braver when it came to more emotional stuff. Maybe she could learn to put the rest of her fears behind her and start to learn to trust.
As the car creaked slowly up the first hill of the roller-coaster, Carissa felt her skin grow clammy. Just before they reached the top, Quinn took her hand. ‘On the count of three, we’re going to raise our arms and shout “Christmas”,’ he told her.
It shocked her into forgetting to be scared.
Was Quinn O’Neill finally seeing the magic?
He still had his fingers laced through hers when he raised his arms, and both of them shouted ‘Christmas’. Carissa could feel the rush of adrenalin and the wind in her hair and the fear just melted away.
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