WARM WINTER KISSES a feel good Christmas romance novel (8 page)

BOOK: WARM WINTER KISSES a feel good Christmas romance novel
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‘Cooee! How is our patient today, then?’

‘Oh, Sylvia!’ I was delighted to hear her cheery voice. I turned round to greet her, but all I could make out were her slippered feet. She was hidden behind the biggest bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen. The most beautiful lilies, roses, delphiniums and gypsophila, all wrapped up in cellophane etched in gold and cream and held together with an elaborate bow.

‘These have just come for you.’ Sylvia’s head poked round the side of the huge display, a big smile on her face.

I gasped. No one had ever sent me flowers before.

‘Oh my goodness!’ My heart leapt. ‘Here let me help.’

I took the bouquet from Sylvia and laid them on the bed.

‘Aren’t they gorgeous? But who?’ I took out the card that was tucked in at the top, my fingers trembling, my heart thumping with excitement.

 

Dear Beth,

What some people will do to get out of a fishing trip!

I hope you’ll be feeling much better very soon.

See ya soon!

Love Zak xx

 

‘Oh,’ I sighed, inching out a smile as best I could. I was thrilled; what girl wouldn’t be? But what surprised me most was the bitter sense of deflation that coursed through my veins. ‘Isn’t that lovely of him?’ I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice.

‘Well, Zak has a heart of gold; you know that, don’t you? He’s so generous too and not immune to the charms of pretty young ladies. You obviously made quite an impression, Beth!’

I laughed, meeting Sylvia’s raised eyebrows.

‘Stop it,’ I chided, catching the mischievous tone in her voice. ‘Shall we go and find some vases for these?’

‘Hmmm, I think we’ll need at least half a dozen for this little lot. Come on, let’s see what we’ve got downstairs. We’ll have a nice cuppa while we sort them out.’

Chapter 9

At some ungodly hour the next day, my mobile rang, rousing me from the most delectable dream. Groggily, my finger found the green button.

‘Morning!’ Rocco’s voice, instantly recognisable, but lacking the smooth tones he’d been using in my dreams, was abrupt and showed no signs of the warm affection he’d displayed only a few days earlier. ‘So, how are you feeling now?’

‘Much better, thank you,’ I lied, sitting up in bed, combing my hair behind my ears with my hands, thankful it wasn’t a video phone. It was only a little white lie. Well, alright then maybe it was a huge, great big whopper. In truth, I was still feeling pretty awful, but I didn’t want Rocco thinking I wasn’t up to the job.

‘Raring to get back to work,’ I enthused.

‘Hmm . . . Are you sure?’ I could just imagine the disapproving look on his face. The hard glint to his eyes, the firm set of his mouth. ‘Have you heard from the doctor about your blood test results?’

‘All okay, apparently. Just a throat infection, but he’s given me some antibiotics to clear it. Think I must have been run down.’

‘Mmm . . .’ There was a pause before I heard an unedifying snort. ‘Well, I want to make sure you’re one hundred percent fit before you start back again because quite honestly Beth, you’re no good to me if you’re working under par.’

I sighed inwardly. An albatross around his neck, I suspected. It was only to be expected that Rocco’s sympathy would wane after his initial concern.

‘I’m absolutely fine, Rocco. I can assure you of that.’

‘Good, in that case we ought to crack on. We’ll go ahead with the filming of the supper scene on the boat tomorrow evening. I was going to cancel but if you’re sure you’re up to it?’

With everything else going on, it had completely slipped my mind.

‘No, that’s absolutely fine,’ I said, weakly.

‘I’ll bring Pandora down with me in the afternoon. Perhaps you can remind Zak of the times etc. Tell him not to get too lashed before we start.’

‘Of course. I’ll make sure everyone knows what they should be doing,’ I said, mentally running down a checklist of everything that needed to be done. I’d have to confirm with Paul and Dave too, as I hadn’t spoken to them since the incident on the lake. Hastily I grabbed my notepad from the bedside cabinet and scribbled down a couple of things as they flashed into my befuddled brain.

Putting down the phone with a sigh, I sank back into the pillows feeling a severe relapse coming on. However much better I was feeling I certainly wasn’t up to seeing Pandora. I’d probably need six weeks of therapy and intensive aerobic training to feel fit enough to cope with facing her.

‘What’s the matter, lovey, feeling tired?’ I’d managed to drag myself out of bed and was sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop when Sylvia came in and sat down opposite me.

‘No, not really. Rocco’s just reminded me that we’re filming the dinner party scene tomorrow. To be honest, I’d forgotten all about it.’

‘Oh yes,’ Sylvia’s voice whooped with pleasure. ‘The four of you enjoying a relaxed informal meal together. Now won’t that be lovely? It’ll make for great television.’

‘Oh stop teasing. I don’t know why he insists I get involved. Perhaps I’m there just to make Pandora look even more gorgeous. If that’s possible. I’m not sure how relaxed I’ll be making polite conversation. I mean, what on earth will we talk about? Somehow I don’t think we shop in the same places. I can’t think of one single thing we have in common.’ My gaze drifted out of the window, taking in the swathe of green fields that surrounded the house. ‘Apart from Rocco,’ I sighed.

Sylvia shook her head, laughing.

‘Pandy is hard work, I’ll give you that. Still at least Zak will be there to lighten the atmosphere. He’ll make you feel at ease. Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.’

I sighed, running my hands through my wayward tresses which, not content with having a single bad hair day, had rebelled big-time and were having a mega awful fortnight. I wondered if I could fit in a cut and blow-dry before tomorrow.

‘I just sometimes wish I had a little of Pandora’s grace and beauty.’

‘Now don’t go doing yourself down.’ Sylvia shook a reproving finger. ‘You’re a lovely, pretty little thing. A natural beauty, I’d say. That red hair of yours sets you apart from other girls and looks wonderful against your lovely creamy skin.’

‘Aw, Sylvia, that’s such a lovely thing to say.’

‘It’s true, so don’t compare yourself unfavourably to Pandora. I know she’s got a fantastic body and those lovely legs . . .’ Sylvia sighed, wistfully, obviously conjuring up an image of Pandora, ‘and such beautiful hair too and well, that face, it’s like an Egyptian goddess’s, but that’s not everything, is it?’

I caught the mischievous glint in her eye and we both dissolved into giggles.

‘If you’re trying to make me feel better it’s not working, Sylvia. Ah well, as you say, I’ll just have to play to my natural talents, I’ll see if I can find some by tomorrow and hope that Pandora doesn’t cast too large a shadow over my little star.’

* * *

The next day I took myself off early in the afternoon and went down to the
Painted Lady
. I wanted to avoid, at all costs, any last-minute panics. I had a feeling that if Pandora could catch me out at having forgotten something or messed something up, she’d delight in making a point about it. And I wanted to make sure that the boat was looking her best. I took some of the flowers Zak had sent me; two large armfuls which made barely a dent in the profusion of blooms dotted around the house, and arranged them prettily in little jugs around the boat. I lit the stove and had a general tidy up of the cabin. Not that anything much needed doing. Just a plumping up of cushions, a quick wipe of the surfaces and a sweep of the floors and it looked ready for anything

well, good enough for a TV crew to descend, anyway. It seemed a shame really. It was such an intimate and cosy atmosphere, just right for two people sharing a romantic meal on the water under the twinkling night stars. I wondered with a pang if it was something Rocco and Pandora often did.

Up on deck I hung fairy lights across the painted woodwork and placed tea lights in gold lanterns along the edges of the gangplank. As dusk fell the glittering little lights gave a fairy-tale effect. I was feeling pretty pleased with my efforts until Pandora turned up.

‘Oh my God.’ Her distinctive voice with its Eastern European edge, cut into the night sky. ‘It looks like Santa’s grotto.’ I glanced at my watch, my heart sinking at the realisation that, in her inimitable style she’d arrived early. She sashayed along the gangplank as if it were a catwalk. I felt inclined to push her overboard, but the centimetre of professionalism that remained to me just won out.

‘I wondered what Rocco was paying you for, and now we all know.’ She threw her head back and chuckled. ‘You obviously have a creative streak, Beth.’

‘It looks great.’ Rocco, armed with basketfuls of produce, gave me a warm smile, pushed Pandora out of his way and dumped his gear in the kitchen. ‘What time are the guys arriving?’ Immediately he started unpacking onions and garlic and pulled down a frying pan from the overhead rack.

‘Dave and Paul should be here in about an hour. I told Zak seven o’clock, but I think he’s in the pub already. I could always go and rescue him.’

‘Don’t worry, Pandora can do that,’ said Rocco, slapping her playfully on the bottom. ‘She needs something to do.’

‘At least Zak will pay me some attention,’ she whined, her big brown eyes boring into the back of Rocco’s head. She waved her hands in front of her face like some Victorian heroine. ‘I find it so claustrophobic in here; I don’t know how you can stand it.’

‘Seven o’clock, Pandora. No later. Or else we’ll start without you.’

‘And think how exciting the programme would be then, just you and Beth making scintillating small talk.’ With a toss of her hair, she breezed out, raising her eyebrows in disdain as she passed me.

Did the two of them spend their whole time bickering? I didn’t think I’d heard either one of them say a single good thing about the other.

‘You’re looking better.’ Rocco turned to give me an appraising glance. He seemed relaxed and surprisingly good-tempered. I’d noticed how mercurial his moods were, and knew there was no way of guessing which way the wind was blowing on any particular day. Although one thing I had noticed was that his mood was considerably lighter every time Pandora was out of the way.

He was looking hot too, dressed casually in a blue chambray shirt and moleskin trousers. I blushed as I felt his eyes travel over my face and then down the length of my body. It was a practised move, one he obviously used on every female he came across, but it worked, making me feel as if I was the most delectable woman in the world. A surge of desire shot through my veins. I could entirely understand why Rocco’s hit rate was so high with the female of the species.

‘Thanks,’ I said, unable to hold his gaze. I moved across to the sink to wash my hands in an attempt to get away from the intense scrutiny. Pandora was right. It was claustrophobic in here. ‘What would you like me to do?’

‘How about you open this and pour us both a glass?’ He handed me a bottle of chilled Sancerre from the cool bag he’d brought with him. ‘I could do with a drink.’

For some reason, my hands were shaking and I could feel a flush of heat rise up my neck. I was grateful to have something to do. I poured the wine into two goblets and handed one to Rocco, who raised his.

‘Cheers! Here’s to a good evening.’

‘Are you nervous at all?’

He laughed, shaking his head.

‘It’s what I do. Cooking. Imparting knowledge. Telling people what to do.’ He winked, a wicked look in his eyes.

‘Cheers!’ I drank to that, but couldn’t help thinking how much better it would be if it were just the two of us.

I settled down on a stool and watched as Rocco worked, admiring the ease with which he moved around the small galley, his strong hands peeling, chopping and slicing with an efficiency that could only have come from years of experience. He glanced across at me from time to time, his eyes the colour of slate flashing with something unsaid, the promise of a smile hovering at the edge of his lips.

‘Could you find me a dish,’ he’d say, ‘something to serve the pasta in? There should be something in those cupboards beside the sink.’

And that was really my only contribution to the proceedings. Finding the odd dish, topping up the wine, looking on appreciatively. I was an expert at that.

By the time Dave and Paul arrived, the boat was awash with the most divine smells, a heady mix of onions, garlic and lemons seducing my taste buds.

‘My God, something smells good,’ said Dave, echoing my sentiments. ‘I hope there’ll be plenty of left-overs for the hard-working crew.’

‘I’ll see what I can do!’ Rocco winked as he shook a pan over the heat.

Zak and Pandora, her arm tucked into his, piled through the door at the very last moment, just as we were all getting a bit jittery. But you couldn’t stay cross with Zak for very long.

‘Whoa! Has the party started already? Beth, you’re looking absolutely gorgeous! Come here and give us a kiss.’

‘Thank you so much for the flowers,’ I said, throwing my arms around his chest, nestling into his very un-rock star-ish, cream cable knit jumper, soaking up the smell of booze and fags. ‘They were so beautiful. Look, I had to bring some down here, there were so many of them.’

‘My pleasure, babe. We’re just so pleased you’re better, aren’t we Rocco?’

Rocco nodded, as he ladled soup into bowls, smiling easily at Zak.

‘Ahem!’ Pandora cleared her throat. ‘I’m going to get changed. Somebody fix me a drink. Please. I’m dying of thirst here.’

The way she barked out her instructions, she must have had a whole army of staff at home to tend to her every whim. She was obviously used to people running around after her. She sauntered into the cabin at the far end of the boat, cursing loudly.

Moments later she hollered, ‘BETH!’

I knew my place. I dashed into the tiny room and heard my chin scrape against the floor as I took in the sight before me. Pandora was standing stark naked, bar the teeniest of thongs, totally devoid of embarrassment as she wrestled with a black concoction.

‘Will you ’elp, please?’ she asked, her eyes smiling at me for the first time, over a bronzed shoulder.

‘Of course.’

I busied myself around her, trying not to gawp at her beauty. Gently, I pulled up the zip that ran from her bottom to the top of her neck, encasing her perfectly in the outfit.

‘Thanks, Beth.’ And she dismissed me with a wave.

A few minutes later she emerged looking like the villainess in a James Bond movie. A swathe of black skin-hugging fabric clung to her curves, her eyes were heavily lined with smudgy charcoal eye-liner and her lips were painted a vivid red. Talk about the scarlet woman. Zak and I gasped in harmony.

‘You look beautiful,’ I said, my mouth dropping open. I’d changed earlier, back at the house, but my black flowing skirt and gypsy blouse, which had always served me well until now, was I noticed, straining at the seams after what I can only suppose was all the delicious grub I’d been shovelling down my throat these last few weeks. I was beginning to realise the occupational hazards of working for a top chef.

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