A String of Lights: Naughty or Nice? A Christmas Romance

By Alexa Milne

FROM POPULAR AUTHOR OF LGBT+ ROMANCE ALEXA MILNE

From the Naughty or Nice? collection

Sometimes loves shines a light.

Devlyn Collins lives with his mum and stepdad in the north of England. He goes out with his mates, drinks a bit too much and works for his Uncle Sid. The trouble is, he's begun to think he wants more.

Henry Ward is a man with a secret—he's a multi-millionaire who owns a landed estate on the edge of Exmoor, thanks to a massive win on the lottery. He's also a man with a mission, determined to restore Secoombe Hall and village and find out how he shares a history with the place. He's too busy for love.

Christmas brings these two men together when Henry offers Sid and Dev silly money for a last-minute job of putting up Christmas lights. Dev doesn't expect to meet an attractive man in this small village and Henry expects them to be just strangers, passing for one night only.

But events conspire to bring Dev back to the village...and keep him there for Christmas. Will this be just a holiday romance, or could it develop into something more?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Dec 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781839430893

Alexa Milne

Originally from South Wales, Alexa has lived for over forty years in the North West of England. Now retired, after a long career in teaching, she devotes her time to her obsessions. Alexa began writing when her favourite character was killed in her favourite show. After producing a lot of fanfiction she ventured into original writing. She is currently owned by a mad cat and spends her time writing about the men in her head, watching her favourite television programmes and usually crying over her favourite football team.

Book preview

Author

Pride Publishing books by Alexa Milne

Single Books

Sporting Chance

Stay

Not Every Time

Comfort Zone

A Bell Rings

My Highland Cowboy

Two for the Road

More Than This

His Perfect Companion

The Call of Home

Choosing Home

Returning Home

Staying Home

Anthologies

Right Here, Right Now: The Matchmaker

Naughty or Nice?

A STRING OF LIGHTS

ALEXA MILNE

A String of Lights

ISBN # 978-1-83943-089-3

©Copyright Alexa Milne 2020

Cover Art by Claire Siemaszkiewicz ©Copyright December 2020

Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2020 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.

Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

Naughty or Nice?

Sometimes loves shines a light.

Devlyn Collins lives with his mum and stepdad in the north of England. He goes out with his mates, drinks a bit too much and works for his Uncle Sid. The trouble is, he’s begun to think he wants more.

Henry Ward is a man with a secret—he’s a multi-millionaire who owns a landed estate on the edge of Exmoor, thanks to a massive win on the lottery. He’s also a man with a mission, determined to restore Secoombe Hall and village and find out how he shares a history with the place. He’s too busy for love.

Christmas brings these two men together when Henry offers Sid and Dev silly money for a last-minute job of putting up Christmas lights. Dev doesn’t expect to meet an attractive man in this small village and Henry expects them to be just strangers, passing for one night only.

But events conspire to bring Dev back to the village…and keep him there for Christmas. Will this be just a holiday romance, or could it develop into something more?

Dedication

For everyone who has helped me get through this year, but mostly for Cath. I could not do any of this without you.

Trademark Acknowledgements

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

A Chorus Line: Marvin Hamlisch, Marvin Hamlisch

Age of Ultron: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

Boy Scout: Boy Scouts of America

Bucky: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Call of Duty: Activision Publishing, Inc.

Captain America: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Strictly Come Dancing: British Broadcasting Corporation

EuroMillions: Company Service aux Loteries en Europe (SLE)

Game of Thrones: Home Box Office, Inc.

Groot: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Harry Potter: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Homes Under the Hammer: British Broadcasting Corporation

Iron Man 2: Paramount Pictures Corporation

Iron Man: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Ken: Mattel, Inc.

Land Rover: Jaguar Land Rover Limited

Legends of Tomorrow: DC Comics

Loki: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Lord of the Flies: William Golding

Netflix: Netflix, Inc.

Prime: Amazon Technologies, Inc.

Rocket Raccoon: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Shrek: Dreamworks Animation LLC

Sindy: Pedigree Dolls & Toys Limited

Skype: Microsoft Corporation

Sylvester: Warner Bros:

The Incredible Hulk: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

The Vicar of Dibley: British Broadcasting Corporation

Thor: Marvel Characters, Inc.

Under Pressure: Roger Taylor, Freddie Mercury, John Deacon, Brian May, David Bowie

Chapter One

All right, it’s true. I never thought you’d get to this stage.

Henry listened to his sister, Bella, while Ollie, the biggest and hairiest of the four estate cats, wove between his legs.

I’m sorry we’re not there, but Toby had to be in France for a race this weekend, and the girls and I decided Paris would be ideal for shopping for Christmas presents, and it’s not like we haven’t seen the Hall already. You’ve done such a wonderful job.

Henry heard the unspoken words—and if I have to spend any more time with that pompous twit from the village, I would most likely commit murder.

It’s fine, Bella. I’ll see you over the holidays. He motioned to Aggie Giles, the housekeeper, who was laden down with a tray of cakes of various sorts. She smiled and nodded, already knowing to take them to the largest room at the back of the house overlooking the gardens, where the Christmas party was to be held. Stan, her husband, had already carried through the trays of turkey rolls, with and without stuffing. A large steel urn had been brought into the room to provide hot water for tea and coffee for the adults, and there were bottles of soft drinks for the village children.

I’ve got to go, he said. I hope both you and Toby get what you want in Paris. Toby and Bella had been married for fifteen years, having met as stable hands in their late teens with dreams of owning their own training yard. Two years ago, a stroke of luck had changed Henry and Bella’s lives. They’d bought a ticket for the EuroMillions lottery and won the biggest-ever prize of one hundred and eighty million pounds between them.

That’s everything, Mr. Henry, Aggie announced as he put the phone in his pocket.

Thank you, Aggie. You and Stan have been a great help.

She handed him a lint remover. I thought you might need this after Ollie’s attention. She’d shooed the big cat away. Henry glanced down to find cat fur all over the lower part of his trousers and tutted as he ran the roller over them.

Somehow he always sneaks in, he said as he brushed.

Will the owner be joining us today? Aggie asked.

Henry shook his head. No, he’s across the other side of the world on business. He’s a busy man. Henry hated lying, but he’d invented this person so people wouldn’t be curious about him. As far as the villagers knew, he was the estate manager in charge of renovating the houses, village and land, not the man who, in fact, owned everything.

Do we know how many of the villagers will be here, Aggie? He needed to change the subject.

Being a Saturday, some people are at work, but I reckon around three hundred, give or take. Mel Whedon and her bloke aren’t moving into Coombe Cottage until next week, but she’ll be here. She’s due to give birth any time now. Her parents are so grateful to have her nearby rather than in Taunton. So many people are amazed at what’s been done. This boss of yours must be a philanthropist or doing it for tax purposes.

Stan returned. Don’t matter why he’s doing it, only that something’s been done, love. This village was dying and now we’ve new houses, a village hall and a church with a roof, as well as this place mostly restored and providing something to bring in tourists.

In the last two years, Henry had completed much of what he’d set out to do. The main house had been transformed from a leaky, draughty building a few months away from ruin to something beautiful. He’d had cottages rebuilt in the grounds, revamped the village hall and replaced the church roof, as well as making the gatehouse fit for occupation for himself. He had more plans that he intended to announce that afternoon.

A small group of people walked into the entrance. Mr. Ward?

Henry stepped forward. You must be the musicians I booked. The woman took his outstretched hand.

Yes, we’re the Villagers. Could someone show us where to set up?

I’ll deal with them, Mr. Henry, Stan said, leading the two women and three men away. A little while later, the sound of singing accompanied by guitar, fiddle and drum spread through the house. Time to get ready to greet the visitors.

Typically, the vicar arrived first. The recently appointed Reverend Christopher Birch was young, enthusiastic, looked as if he needed a square meal and was gay, something he’d told Henry in what he called a spirit of honesty, with the church sited on land belonging to the Secoombe estate. He clasped Henry’s hand and shook it hard.

I can’t tell you how grateful we are for the roof, Mr. Ward. Please tell your employer. It means so much being able to preserve the old place, and especially the Doom Painting. So many were whitewashed during the Reformation. You know there’s been a place of worship on the site from as far back as the Domesday Book. Now, we’ll be able to get visitors in and tidy up the graveyard, make the gravestones safe. I wish I could do the same for all my churches.

Henry guessed that might be a hint for more money. Well, if you don’t ask… I’ll see what I can do.

Oh, would you? That would be kind, and I hear a young family will be moving into Coombe Cottage soon. So good to have more young people in the village.

The owner is more than happy to help. As I’ve explained, his family came from this village quite a while back, hence his interest. I believe there are Secoombes buried in the church itself.

I must look out the parish registers. He might be interested in tracing his family. The bishop may have papers in his library too.

Henry didn’t want to give too much away, but nodded. Yes, that would be interesting. I’ve done a bit of genealogy myself, so I’d like to have a glance at the registers. What he really wanted to know was whether there were others with the village name as part of their own. Henry had been given the middle name Secoombe, as every male member of his father’s family had for generations. It was this that had brought him to the village on Exmoor which bore his name, and serendipity that had led to him being able to persuade the management company who owned the land to cut their losses and sell it to him.

The vicar wandered off, in the hope of finding a large mug of tea, Henry suspected. A few families with children arrived, followed by Jess and Jacob Foxcombe, who ran the combined farm shop and post office next to the village hall. Jess also taught yoga twice a week. Both were in their forties, and their children were at university.

The place is looking splendid, Jacob said, shaking Henry’s hand vigorously. Oh, and we’ve discovered a new supplier, so all right if we run some new ideas by you at the meeting next week?

Henry nodded. I’ve spoken to someone in advertising too. We need an expert to help us promote the village other than through the new website. If we get the right products in the shop, people will come here specially to get picnic food and drink in the summer.

We’ve been wondering about expanding into a café, haven’t we, Jess, with us overlooking the green and the pond. We could put tables and chairs outside in the warm weather if the parish council allows.

I’m sure our council leader could be persuaded, Henry said. The local parish council reminded him of the characters in The Vicar of Dibley, all determined to maintain their control of what happened in the village, even with a new owner involved. But as Henry had discovered, money talked and even the Chair, Richard Armstrong, had so far agreed to the improvements made. Talking of the Chair, Henry heard his booming voice behind him.

We’ll leave you to it, Jess said, following others towards the meeting room.

A hand tapped his shoulder and Henry turned. Richard, Mrs. Armstrong, he said, shaking the Chair’s hand then his wife’s. So good of you to spare us some time out of your busy life. Armstrong owned a property renovation company, one which Henry hadn’t used, preferring to use individual local craftsmen when he could.

Thought I’d come and see what you’ve done with the old place and show my face among the villagers—noblesse oblige and all that.

Pretentious prat. Indeed. I hope the renovations meet with your approval, Henry said. Food is being served in the main room, or do feel free to wander around to see for yourself what we’ve done.

I will. I hope everything has been done in keeping by this boss of yours. We wouldn’t want anything crass in such an old place as this. We have certain standards to uphold, after all.

Henry took a deep breath, let it out slowly and unfurled his palms. Best voice needed. I’m sure you won’t find anything amiss, Richard. Yes, I know you hate me calling you by your name. And I’ll see you for the parish meeting on Wednesday. We have a lot to discuss.

Yes, yes. Come, my dear. He motioned his long-suffering wife forward. She fiddled with the exquisite diamond pedant around her neck and gave Henry a weak smile. He supposed everyone had their own reasons for their choices. Maybe Richard Armstrong hadn’t always been such a patronizing dick.

For