When Chocolate Is Not Enough... (20 page)

He suppressed the joyous bubble of happiness that came from the special spot deep inside his chest which he had thought frozen, never to be thawed again. But that had been before he’d laid eyes on this strange, quirky little red-haired girl who was a source of constant change and excitement. She had whipped away the carpet from below his feet the moment he had seen her standing behind the counter at the food festival, and he still felt as though he was walking on quicksand.

With this girl he never knew what to expect from one minute to the next!

And he loved it.

Time to let her know that he had arrived.

‘Daisy,’ he whispered, and she spun around—then froze.

Her eyes widened as he gazed straight at her, the heat of the blush on her cheeks matching the warmth of the smile that turned up both sides of her mouth.

Her hair was down, her make-up a slick of mascara and a lipgloss that was mostly deposited on the wine glass she was holding in her
hand, and yet the look in those eyes as they smiled at him across the group of people that strolled between them told him everything he needed to know.

It was as though the spirit of the girl who was Daisy Flynn was shining through for him alone. She was totally dazzling, making every other woman appear dull and lifeless and without talent or sparkle.

She was totally, devastatingly beautiful.

Forget the contest, forget the crowds, and forget the hotel managing director, who had given him a wave before moving back towards the judging table. All that mattered was Daisy. He needed to talk to her and share his exciting news. He simply wanted to be with her.

She took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his.

‘I got your message. And I decided to take your advice and come out of the kitchen and enjoy myself. Thank you. You’re late, by the way.’

‘You’re most welcome. And I’m sorry for being late. You look … beautiful.’

Her mouth widened into a grin so wide it blocked out the rest of the room. He had never seen her grin like that before, and if a few simple words from him were capable of having that effect then he would have to repeat
them again and again, until she knew that they were true.

‘Then you are totally forgiven,’ she replied, biting her lower lip.

She slid closer and reached out to flick an imaginary piece of fluff from his jacket, then pressed the palms of her hands against his chest.

‘I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up, Max Treveleyn.’

‘Me? Never. There were things I needed to do before I could start my new life with the woman I love.’

Her eyes widened in shocked surprise, but before she could reply Max took the initiative and slipped his hands onto her waist, his gaze never leaving her lovely face.

‘You’ve stolen my heart, Daisy Flynn,’ he whispered across the tiny space that separated them. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.’

‘On St Lucia?’ Daisy replied, her forefinger tracing a gentle circle on his cheek.

‘Possibly. Apparently this hotel chain is considering a wonderful new location on that particular island which was offered to them only today. On an organic cocoa plantation, of all places. Imagine that? It will be an eco project which will guarantee tourism and jobs and sell lots and lots of cocoa. But our home
doesn’t have to be there. I love St Lucia, and I know you could too, but your happiness means everything to me. I don’t want to make the same mistake again. Just tell me where you want to go and I will take you there. My home is where you are, Daisy. On St Lucia, or in London, or Paris, or wherever else you want to go.’

Daisy touched both sides of his face with her fingertips, tears glistening in her amazing green eyes.

‘Then take me home with you. To St Lucia.’

Max blinked several times as the impact of what she was saying hit home.

‘You astonish me. No wonder I love you.’

‘And I thought you were only after me for my chocolate boobs,’ she teased.

‘Oh, a lot more than that,’ he retorted lovingly.

Stepping into the circle of his arms, Daisy wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Lovingly, longingly, deeply. Completely ignoring the hoots and cheers from the other diners at this prestigious conference, and calls about their finding a room.

‘Daddy! Daddy! I’m over here, Daddy.’

Daisy whipped around just in time as a slim little blonde girl in a pink party dress propelled
herself out of the crowd and wrapped her arms like a limpet around Max’s thigh.

‘Hey, look who made it just in time for dinner,’ Max said as he hoisted her up into his arms. ‘It’s the lovely Freya. Have you left your mum behind somewhere?’

The little girl nodded and pointed in the direction of the entrance. ‘Mummy had to talk to a man about the car, but I couldn’t wait to see you, Daddy. I couldn’t wait one minute more.’

‘Well, I’m so glad you’re here, poppet.’ Max grinned and rubbed his nose against Freya’s, making her giggle. ‘Because there is someone I want you to meet. Do you remember what I said to you earlier? About the pretty lady who is baking lovely cakes with the chocolate I make? Well, here she is. This is Freya, my little girl. And, Freya, this is Daisy, who is going to be your new stepmother.’

Freya, of course, immediately tried to bury her head in her father’s shoulder.

‘Freya’s pretending to be shy right now, but you wait and see what happens when the chocolate cake comes out. Oh, yes.’

Freya peeked out at Daisy, who smiled back at her, and something must have worked because then Freya sniffed and declared to the world in a loud voice, ‘My daddy is the best daddy in the whole world, and he makes the
bestest chocolate. And I am going to stay at his house on the island and see where the chocolate comes from and everything.’

Daisy nodded wisely. ‘You are obviously an expert, because I completely agree with you. He
does
make the bestest chocolate in the world. I think that’s why I love him so much.’

‘You do?’ Freya asked, wide-eyed. ‘Cool.’ And she gave Daisy a huge toothy grin.

‘Oh yes,’ Daisy replied with a nod. Then she blinked at Max. ‘Did you just say stepmother? I can’t be a stepmother. I’m twenty-eight. It’s against the law to be a stepmother at twenty-eight. Don’t I need some kind of specialist training for the role? It could be risky.’

‘Very. But I’m tempted to take the risk if you are,’ Max said, leaning towards her, tempted once again by her glorious lips.

‘Dad! Stop kissing Daisy. This is
so
embarrassing.’

‘Sorry, sweetie. That’s something you are going to have to get used to.’

D
AISY
snatched a calming breath of the warm perfumed breeze as Tara checked for the third time in fifteen minutes that Daisy’s coronet of fragrant frangipani blossom, jasmine and pale yellow orchids was not in danger of going
anywhere
soon, before running out to try and track down Freya, who had hit the coral-tinged beach running an hour ago and not been seen since.

The heavy silk of Daisy’s cream embroidered dress rustled as she strolled out of the shade of the snowy white canopy and looked out across the azure water in the bay to the dark green peaks of the Piton volcanoes that made St Lucia one of the most beautiful islands in the West Indies. A steel drum orchestra was already playing under the shade of the palm trees that lined the sandy beach, filling the air with bright, happy music which blended with the laughter from the wedding
guests who were making their way out of the Treveleyn Estate Hotel, where the reception was going to be held.

The Flynn-Treveleyn wedding was going to be the hotel’s first beach wedding—which was only fitting, since the hotel was still being constructed around Max’s old plantation house.

A lump the size of a pineapple formed in Daisy’s throat.

She had come a long way from that baker’s shop in a small country town in rural England to stand here today, surrounded by views so dazzling that even after seven months on the island she was still stunned on a daily basis that she was able to make her home in this lovely place, and with people who had taken her to their hearts.

She wished that her parents were here today to share her happiness—they would have loved it here so much. Loved Max and Freya and her new friends. Loved the life that she was making for herself because of all that they had given her.

The sound of a powerful boat engine drew her attention back to the ocean and the sun-bleached white jetty, and Daisy’s breath caught in her throat as Max pulled a beautiful speedboat dressed in white ribbons to a gentle halt.

Next to him on the soft leather seat were Kate and her fiancé, Anton, who had sailed their yacht into the nearby harbour four days ago as part of their very special wedding present. Daisy and Max were going to spend a week sailing the islands on the luxury yacht, while Kate and Anton roughed it with Freya in one of the new eco-cabins the hotel chain had built on the plantation estate.

If you could call a three-bedroom, solar-powered cabin built from local timber with every possible luxury roughing it. Especially when it came with catering by Tara, and a hot tub overlooking the ocean and mountains fed by spring water.

A great hurrah sounded from under the trees, and the steel band moved into their liveliest musical number.

Daisy sighed out loud as Max stepped onto the jetty and flashed a grin as wide as the ocean in her direction. He looked so happy that every second of work over the past months to create a hotel from his home seemed worth it a thousand times over.

Max
.

The last few hours had passed in such a blur of working with Tara and the wonderful ladies from the estate to finalise the reception meal that Tara had had to physically turn Daisy in
the direction of the shower and her wedding clothes with only an hour to go.

And poor Max had barely had time to grab his suit bag before he had been carried off by speedboat to change on the yacht.

And now here they were.

The famous chocolate cake, which had become the speciality dessert of the hotel chain following the shock win of Team Treveleyn at the hotel in Cornwall, had been finished in the nick of time. It looked terrific, and most of the children had been scrubbed fairly chocolate-free. For the moment at least.

Tara came jogging along the beach towards her, her fingers holding tightly onto Freya, who had not been swimming in her silk bridesmaid dress after all but had somehow managed to lose her flowers. Tara grinned and gave her a nod—they were ready.

This was it.

Daisy plucked a red hibiscus blossom from the shrubbery next to the hotel and popped it behind Freya’s ear, making her giggle with pleasure.

With one final glance to Tara, who had shared her spray of orchids with Freya, Daisy took a deep breath and stepped forward onto the sun-warmed, coral-tinged sand. The opening bars of the ‘Wedding March’ beaten out on
steel drums drifted out seawards from behind her, but she only had eyes for one person.

The Greek-god-handsome man standing under an arch of plaited vines, hibiscus and orchids which stood on the edge of the water. Waiting to say his vows—waiting for her to agree to become his wife.

She barely noticed the friends and family, new and old, who had turned up
en masse
with smiling faces to share her happiness in the January sunshine.

This was her church. Her stained glass was the colour of the sky and the myriad shades of green from the tropical forests reflected back from the mirror-like ocean. The sweet perfume of the flowers from her headdress and bouquet filled her head with dreamy perfection at every step.

Max was wearing a white suit and white shirt, and looked so handsome as he grinned at her that it took her breath away.

Her every step across the sand, feeling the grains between her toes, was taking her closer to this remarkable man that she loved.

Of all the people in this world he had chosen
her
to spend his life with.

This man loved her.

He had given her a new home and a new family.

He was where her heart was.

In those strong arms she knew she’d found a love for the rest of her life.

It was amazing what you could achieve with a few chocolate boobs
.

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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First published in Great Britain 2012
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

© Nina Harrington 2012

ISBN: 978-1-408-97272-4