The Complete #LoveLondon Collection

'Still don't,' he said bluntly. ‘I still think it's stressful, expensive and driven by retailers.'

'You do?' she looked disappointed.

'I don't think I'll ever like it, but I do like you, so I'll consider not hiding in my man-cave.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes.' Resting his forehead against hers, chest to chest, the button of his coat caught her jumper, starting up an electronic, jangly Silent Night.

They both roared with laughter, their cold breath forming clouds between them.

'There's something I should probably tell you,' Holly admitted.

'What? Another ex? A child? A horrible disease that will cause hideous boils?'

'Nope. Just that I hate summer.'

Noel smirked, 'Wow, what a pair. Well, how do you feel about spring? Is spring all right?'

'Spring is good,' she grinned, 'I guess during certain times of the year we'll just have to distract each other.'

'I can definitely see certain activities being distracting enough to keep me happy.' He kissed her, hard and fast, and when he lifted his head she looked dazed.

'Wow,' she breathed.

'Yes,' he agreed. Squeezing her tight, he nodded. 'You know, you were right.'

'Right about what?'

He grinned. 'The unexpected things can be the best parts.'

'They can,' she nodded, blue eyes sparkling. 'Hey, what are you doing?' She yelped as he dug his phone out of his pocket and she almost slid off his lap into the snow. 'You're not texting or calling someone now?'

'I am,' he arranged her on his lap and looped his arm around her, holding on tight. 'I'm going to text Matt and thank him.'

'What for?' she rested her head against his broad chest, snuggling in.

‘For making me take Jasper Skating at Somerset House.’

New Year at The Ritz (#ulink_26fd5a4d-ecf7-5059-9f35-7cbebf9c0c4c)

'Oh, balls!' Frankie Taylor stared at the mirror in dismay. She touched a hand to the back of her neck, where she used to have hair, and glared at her hairdresser in their shared reflection.

'You don't like it?' Davey asked, freezing with comb and scissors in mid-air against the backdrop of the heavy chrome and red leather salon. 'You said you wanted something different, a fresh start.'

'Yes, I wanted a change, because everyone keeps on at me to move on, and a new haircut is easier than bowing to pressure and getting a boyfriend.' She yanked on the ends of her glossy black hair, which were now only a few inches from her scalp, rather than shoulder length. 'By something different, I didn't mean half-bald!' The amount of hair on the floor was truly disturbing. 'So much for treating myself to a nice post-Christmas present,’ she muttered.

'Oh, love…I really thought you wanted something radical and besides, I've always thought short hair would suit you.' Putting scissors and comb down, he gently extracted her fingers from the newly blunt-cut locks and shaped the side-fringe across her forehead. 'It shows off those gorgeous almond-shaped violet eyes to perfection. And look at those cheekbones! You look a bit like Frankie from The Saturdays.’

'So now I share my name and a haircut with her.’ She stroked her exposed neck, feeling oddly naked with nothing covering her nape or tops of her ears. 'I'm going to be freezing – it's mid-winter!' Shaking her head, she watched the strands fall back into place. 'Okay, I guess it's not that bad,' she conceded. She wouldn't look so pale with make-up on. It'd hardly been worth applying any today, given she lived three doors down from the hairdressers above a kebab shop and was off work until 5 January.

'No?' Davey heaved a relieved sigh.

'No. And you're right, it really shows off that stone I've lost since the break-up,' she said self-mockingly. 'Plus, we can hardly stick it back on, can we?' Wrinkling her nose, 'So what's the point in being upset?' She'd learnt the hard way there were some things you had to let go, some things you couldn't control.

'You said it,' he drawled, picking up the scissors again.

'Hold it! You're not taking any more off are you?'

'Just neatening up, my love,' he assured, sticking his tongue out at her. 'Relax.'

'I'll be relaxed,' she grumbled, 'if (a) you don’t scalp me (b) Dad doesn't ring every five minutes to check on me (c) my friends stop insisting it's time to find a new man and give up plastering my profile all over dating sites, and (d) when my boss stops giving me funny looks because she thinks being single is unnatural.' She paused as Davey used the hair-dryer to get rid of the stray bits of hair that inevitably got into everything, picking up the conversation once he'd switched it off. She met his amused blue eyes in the mirror, 'I've only been single for just over a year which really isn't that long, and I'm happy being selfish for now, doing what suits me, thanks very much.'

'Hmmm.' Davey whipped off the cape he'd covered her jeans and jumper with and spun her around in the chair. 'The problem with that, my lovely, is it would be really easy to stay like that for too long. Don't get used to it, or you'll never want to be with anyone ag-'

'Pfftt!' she interrupted, sitting up straight and raising an eyebrow. 'You're just saying that because you move from one relationship to another with the speed Superman flies at. Being alone isn't what you do.'

Grabbing her by a belt loop, he yanked her from the chair. 'Hey, watch it!' She giggled as he spun her around the shop. He grinned naughtily, 'I could be alone if I wanted to. I just don't want to. And if you're comparing me to HC's Superman, I'll take that compliment gladly.' He released her, arms dropping.

'Oh god,' she groaned, 'you are so obsessed with Henry Cavill!'

'Don't try and pretend you're not.'

'I- oh, okay, I won't. That black hair, those baby blue eyes,' they both let out a sigh of appreciation, ‘he's so hot it's obscene.'

'That bit on the ship in The Tudors…' Davey’s face took on a dreamy, faraway expression. 'No wonder it was difficult for you to break up with Christian. I mean, he does bear a passing resemblance to Lord HC. Hey, d'you remember that time I called in at The Superflat,' his name for the multi-million pound apartment on the Thames she and Christian had shared, 'and he was getting out of the shower? All he had on was that teeny, tiny towel-'

'Oi! Snap out of it,' she clicked her fingers in front of his glazed eyes. 'We're not going there, okay? It's over.'

'Sorry.' Grabbing her cropped, battered leather jacket from a hanger, he helped her into it. 'In all seriousness though,' he turned her to face him, looking uncharacte‌ristically solemn, 'everyone needs love. It's a fact of life. It's biology.'

'Whatever,' she shrugged, straightening the collar of his patterned shirt, 'personally I think it's just sex. That's life. That's biology. Speaking of which, where are we going out on New Year's Eve?'

'Not sure yet. There's The Crown and Roses,' he mentioned their local, and she groaned, 'or maybe something in the city. I did hear about this party-'

'Oh no, what are you going to get me into?'

'I've got to find out the details, so you'll see. Now, get lost.' Giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, he propelled her toward the door. ‘Enjoy your trip home. See you in a couple of days.’

She stopped in the doorway. 'What about the money for the haircut?'

'You want to pay me for scalping you?' he joked.

'Or making me look like a super-model?' she answered hopefully.

He pulled a face. 'You know I love you, but no. Anyway, call it a late Christmas prezzie and if anyone asks who gave you such a divine style, point them in my direction. And don't forget what I said. Everyone needs love.'

'I'll hurl them in your direction, never mind point them,' she retorted, and was rewarded with a playful smack on the bum as she skipped out the door.