WARM WINTER KISSES a feel good Christmas romance novel (9 page)

‘It’s my job,’ said Pandora, the smile on her lips failing to reach her eyes. She sidled up to Zak, soaking up the admiration that was obvious in his eyes.

‘God, Pandora, I think that might be slightly OTT for what we’re doing here. It’s meant to be an informal supper with friends, not a Goth’s coming out party.’

‘I like to make the effort, Rocco, you know that. Besides, I have my reputation to think of. I can hardly be seen on national TV in any old tat.’ Her sharp eyes travelled around the room, surveying the men, before landing with a heavy bump on my outfit.

I pulled my straining blouse together to cover my escaping cleavage, wishing I’d chosen something more flattering. Like a hessian sack.

‘Right, well, if we’re all ready,’ Dave cut in, ‘we ought to make a start.’

Surprisingly, once the cameras started rolling I began to relax. Rocco was at his most comfortable when talking about food and at the table Pandora changed from a snarling Rottweiler into a purring pussycat, toying with her hair in an endearing fashion, laughing generously at the banter over the table and looking approvingly into Rocco’s eyes every time he looked over. I was certain she had a great future as an actress.

Zak had brought a box of pink champagne along with him and he was doing a great job of making sure everyone’s glass was topped up. Not having had pink champagne before I was immediately entranced with its life-enhancing qualities, relishing the tickly feeling it made at the end of my nose. I was beginning to enjoy myself. I declared it there and then my most favourite drink. God, it was good to feel better again.

The first course, a butternut squash and pumpkin soup, was to die for. Its autumnal hue was inviting and when I dipped in my spoon the texture was velvety smooth, dripping with flavour.

‘Umm, isn’t this delicious!’ I swooned in what I hoped was a natural way. I’d seen one of Nigella’s guests do something similar once.

Pandora, I noticed, had been given the smallest of portions by Rocco, a spoonful of the amber nectar that barely covered the bottom of the bowl, which I thought was a little unkind. Even so, she barely made any inroads into it. She swished it around her bowl, lifted the spoon to her generous lips, took a sniff of the delicious aroma and then returned the spoon to the bowl. I swear not a morsel passed her lips.

Fascinated, I watched casually as she did the same routine with the paltry portion of wild mushroom fettuccine that Rocco handed her. Then I cottoned on. It wasn’t that he was being miserly with the portions, it was clear that eating was not on Pandora’s agenda. No wonder she was thin. Still, for the purpose of the programme, it didn’t matter. Dave got plenty of footage of both Zak and me stuffing ourselves silly, emitting sighs of delight at the amazing combinations of flavours, while Pandora looked on, laughing, and looking lovely.

‘Pandora, you didn’t eat a thing!’ I chided, when the cameras stopped rolling and Paul and Dave were tucking in to what was left.

She flashed a withering look my way.

‘Of course not,’ she snapped, her sunny disposition having immediately clouded over as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. ‘You’re obviously not familiar with self-control, Beth.’ She placed her hands on her waist, showing off its tiny dimensions and thrusting out her surgically enhanced breasts. ‘I have my figure to think about.’

‘Ooh, but I like a woman who enjoys her food.’ Zak was leaning back on the bench, his legs resting on a chair opposite. ‘Very sexy!’ he said, his eyes alighting on my cleavage. ‘Don’t you agree, Rocco?’

‘Definitely. Beth certainly has a healthy appetite.’ I grimaced, thinking about the number of times Rocco had seen me shovelling food down my throat. He must have thought me a real gannet. ‘I think it shows a zest for life.’

Zak spluttered.

‘What you mean is, a healthy appetite for food is an indication of a healthy appetite for other earthy pleasures.’ He winked at me and I felt myself blush, giggling at his lascivious expression.

‘I’ll just get this cleared away,’ I said, standing up and collecting the plates together and ignoring Pandora’s scowling face.

‘Here, babe,’ said Zak, topping up my champagne glass. ‘Take this with you.’

I took another sip before climbing into the pinny that Rocco had been wearing and ran some water into the sink, placing the dirty dishes into the foaming suds.

‘You okay?’ I froze to the spot. A pair of warm hands came from behind and rested firmly on my waist. Rocco’s hands. His breath was hot against my neck. A shiver ran down the length of my body.

I spun around and met his dark, heavy eyes. He didn’t remove his hands, or the intensity of his gaze. ‘You don’t have to do that, you know.’

‘No, it’s fine. I’d like to do it. It was a fantastic meal, Rocco. Probably the best I’ve eaten,’ I said, meaning it, and realising with pleasure that I had no means of escape.

His lips curled pleasingly. The proximity of his face and the scent of his body were almost unbearable. I could so easily have leant forward and felt the touch of his skin upon mine.

‘Here,’ he said, leaning forward. He held my face with one hand and with the other, wiped his finger across my lips removing a small piece of shortbread biscuit. ‘That’s better,’ he said, popping the offending crumb into his mouth. ‘Let me grab a tea towel, and I’ll help you.’

He moved away and I was left all a-flutter. My heart was racing, and all sorts of inappropriate thoughts swam through my mind. My legs felt as if they might crumple beneath me. I plunged my hands into the hot, soapy water to take my mind off my ridiculous fantasies, and attacked the plates savagely with a brush.

Over on the gingham-covered bench, Pandora had curled her long legs beneath her and tucked herself into the embrace of Zak’s arm. She was looking up at him, regaling him with filthy jokes. Their raucous laughter drifted our way.

‘They seem to be enjoying themselves.’ I tilted my head in their direction.

‘Oh, Zak’s good with Pandora. He knows exactly how to handle her. Not many people do.’ He paused before turning towards me. ‘What would you like to do? Stay here for a while or go back to the house?’

‘I think I’ll go back if you don’t mind. I’m whacked.’ The combination of food and the booze had produced a most delightful soporific effect. And the less time I spent in the company of Pandora, the better, as far as I was concerned. ‘But don’t worry about me; I can make my own way back.’

‘You’re in no fit state to drive and you’ll have to wait an age for a taxi. Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. I’ve not had much to drink.’ He pulled out two bottles from the box Zak had brought. ‘But,’ he said, smiling, ‘the night’s young. We’ll take these with us and carry on the party at home.’

Now he came to mention it, I was feeling a little bit woozy. Probably the lingering effects of that recent bug.

‘You coming?’ Rocco pulled on his coat and looked across at Zak and Pandora, who seemed firmly entrenched in the corner.

‘Sure,’ said Zak, attempting to get up.

‘In a minute,’ said Pandora, pushing him back down again. ‘We’ll follow you up there in a while. Let’s just finish our drinks first.’

* * *

Rocco ushered me up the steps, out on to the gangway. It was one of those perfect autumn nights, bitterly cold but clean and crisp, the moon casting a benevolent glow on the still waters of the canal.

‘You cold?’ He ran his hands up my bare arms, causing my goose bumps to shiver all the more. ‘Here, take this,’ he said, handing me his coat. I slipped it on, feeling like a small child dressing up in their mother’s clothes. It swamped me like a silk parachute and gave me more than a passing resemblance to Worzel Gummidge. Rocco gently guided me onto the towpath, and then broke into a run. ‘Quickly! Get a move on.’

He ran off, laughing, looking behind him, and I made a feeble attempt at running after him, but in my heels and Rocco’s flapping coat it was futile. I felt woozy, light-headed and, for some reason, ridiculously content.

‘So,’ Rocco asked, a few minutes later, as he steered the Land Rover out of the car park, ‘how are you finding it, working here? We’ve not really had a chance to talk. You enjoying it?’

‘Yes, thanks.’ I turned my head to look at his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the prominent cheekbones, the smattering of curls that took his hard-edged appearance and transformed it into something bordering on the angelic. ‘It’s great. You know . . .’ I said, faltering for a moment feeling suddenly bashful, ‘different to what I’m used to. Most of my time has been spent working for big corporate companies in the city. I suppose I’m used to that sort of environment and those types of people, so this has been a bit of a learning curve. Working in the creative sector.’

Rocco smiled.

‘You cope with it all very well, though. I won’t tell you how many girls I’ve got through in the past year.’

I can well imagine, I thought, stifling a smile but electing to keep that private musing to myself.

‘I meant on a professional level,’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d read my thoughts. ‘I need someone like you, who’s calm and level-headed and not easily swayed by the sometimes volatile atmosphere of my working day.’

And yet it seemed he sought out that kind of highly charged atmosphere in his personal life too. It didn’t make sense.

I nodded. ‘Oh, in my job, you get used to dealing with a lot of different personalities.’ Although high maintenance neurotic supermodels were a new one even to me, I didn’t add.

Still, I’d seen a softer side to Pandora this evening. Admittedly it had been only a fleeting glimpse, but maybe that tough, shiny exterior was simply that. A shield to protect her from whatever life was chucking at her.

Moments later Rocco brought the jeep to a crunching halt in the gravel drive of the house, and Millie gave us a rousing welcome.

‘Fancy a nightcap?’ Rocco held up the pretty pink bottles enticingly, as he slammed the door shut with his foot.

‘Lovely,’ I said, feeling relaxed and looking longingly at the bottles of fizz.

Chapter 10

My relationship with alcohol had always gone like this. Not that I’ve ever been what I’d call a hardened drinker, but on those rare occasions, like this evening, when it had flowed oh so easily and tipped down my throat oh so effortlessly, that moment when it all goes horribly wrong always comes as a surprise.

There you are tipping back your glass and feeling witty, charming, flirty and gorgeous, for all the world like the most entertaining female creature on the planet when, wham, it hits you without warning.

I’d been okay on the boat and in the car on the way home, but that next glass of champagne, the one in the kitchen at the house, with Rocco standing against the cream range observing me thoughtfully, Millie at his feet, had the most peculiar effect.

‘Ooh, I love this champagne,’ I said, peering into the side of my glass at the motion of the bubbles, ‘I could drink this all night. In fact, I just might,’ I said, stabbing my finger in his direction. ‘This will be my drink of choice from now on.’

‘Good. I’ll remember that.’ He looked across at me wryly.

I undid my shoes, allowing my swollen stockinged feet to rest on the floor and I undid the top button of my blouse. It had been fit to burst all night and the relief at unleashing the strain, even if the resulting spillage wasn’t the prettiest sight in the world, was immense.

‘I want to thank you, Rocco, for such a lovely evening. It has been lovely, simply . . .’ I searched for a suitably fitting word, floundered and plumped for ‘lovely’ again. Content with my choice I sighed. ‘Why don’t you come and sit down next to me, so I can thank you properly,’ I said, patting the chair beside me fondly.

‘No, it’s okay.’ He paused, raising his eyebrows at me. ‘Beth, are you feeling alright?’

‘Perfect.’ I swooned. ‘Absolutely perfect.’ It was true. I loved it all. The house and Millie, being with Rocco. It seemed such a natural state of affairs, and I had to remind myself that I was this man’s employee and not a permanent fixture. My head, I realised, was swimming now and my whole body felt fit to collapse. I got up, steadying my swaying body on the side of the table.

‘Although I think maybe we need another drink, don’t you, Rocco?’ I peered into my empty glass at the remaining drop sitting forlornly at the bottom, raised the glass to the air and to my complete horror, and never ending regret, I winked at him. I think it was probably a first for me. I’d never winked at anyone in my life. And I’m not entirely sure I mastered the technique. I had an awful suspicion I looked like a second-rate actor auditioning for the role of a pirate.

‘Oh God,’ said Rocco, walking over to greet me. He snatched the glass out of my hand. ‘You’re still taking those antibiotics, aren’t you? I completely forgot. You shouldn’t be drinking this, you silly girl!’

‘Oh Rocco, don’t be such a duddy-fuddy, no, I mean fuddy-duddy,’ I said, pushing him playfully on the chest. God, I felt wonderful. I giggled, standing on tiptoe to reach the champagne bottle he was holding up in the air, out of my reach. ‘I think this is the best medicine there is. It should be available on the NHS, don’t you think?’

‘What I think is that you’ve had far too much of this already. Come on,’ he said, grabbing me firmly by the arm, ‘let’s get you up to bed.’

‘Rocco, really,’ I said, fluttering my eyelashes suggestively, revealing the hitherto unknown sex goddess deep within, ‘are you inviting me into your boudoir?’ I sniggered, remembering the conversation in his bedroom where he’d banished me until I received a formal invitation. This could be my opportunity, but then again why was he choosing this moment to glare at me in his best grumpy boss impression?

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Beth.’

I peered at his face noting his pained expression, the weariness in his eyes. He was completely exhausted, poor lovey, but then he did work so hard. Sylvia and I had discussed the matter in detail. What he needed, obviously, was a little lie-down.

‘But I like you,’ I said, raising my face to his, expectantly.

‘And I like you too.’ He stood behind me now, ignoring my invitation, his voice calm and controlled, his arms on my elbows guiding me slowly through the kitchen into the hallway. At the bottom of the stairs I turned to look at him, falling into his arms.

‘No, but I really like you. You know.’ I nudged him with my arm. ‘I really, really like you.’ I closed my eyes, puckered up my lips and planted a kiss on what I intended to be his mouth, but with my aim being slightly off-key, it landed damply on the side of his nose.

‘Oh God,’ he said, forcibly turning me round and pushing me up the stairs, ‘you do need your bed.’

‘No, Rocco, I need your bed. Really I do. And I don’t mind. Being a number on your not inconsiderable tally sheet. In fact, it would be an honour. And I mean, I am a modern girl and I understand where you’re coming from. I’ve read all about you, you naughty, naughty boy, you!’

I felt as if I could float up the stairs and slump deliciously into the depths of Rocco’s big, inviting double bed.

‘Everyone knows you can’t resist a pretty girl or . . .’ I was aware of an unbecoming raspberry noise escaping from my lips, ‘a not so pretty one.’ I ran my hands down my body and shimmied, or did a bad approximation of a shimmy, smiling inanely.

‘Upstairs. NOW!’

‘Oh God, Rocco, I do so love it when you’re masterful. It’s such a turn-on.’ I tripped over my feet up the stairs and had to resort to crawling up on my hands and knees, with Rocco pushing me gently from behind.

‘This way,’ I said, beckoning him with my finger when we finally made it to the top. I lurched, in what I hoped was a sexy manner, along the landing in the direction of the master bedroom.

I felt his strong hands on the tops of my arms, firmly constraining me from behind. I span round and looked up into those reproving eyes.

‘Is that really what you think of me? That I’d take you to bed just for the fun of it? That I’d take advantage of our professional relationship? You’re a guest in my house for Christ’s sake! Really, Beth, what do you take me for? I can only think it’s the drink that’s doing the talking here.’

Rocco didn’t relax his grip on my arms, his eyes had lost none of their cold edge and his nostrils were flaring like those of an angry stallion. Faced with his barely contained anger and the recognition of something else expressed upon his face, disgust or loathing, I couldn’t tell which, I felt sickened and ashamed of my behaviour.

My hand reached up involuntarily to the sudden hammering at my temples. Weariness washed over me like a huge breaking wave.

‘Oh God. I’m sorry, Rocco.’ I felt woozy, my legs wobbling like a misbehaving puppet’s. Tears gathered in my eyes as my mind helpfully replayed, in glorious detail, my unsubtle attempts at seducing my boss. And just when I thought Rocco was about to release all that pent up anger in my direction, he leant forward and gently wiped away my tears with his thumbs, his face a hair’s breadth away from my own.

‘Now would you please just do as you are told and climb into bed.’

Those were the very words I had been aching to hear but maybe not quite in this context.

‘Yes,’ I sniffed. ‘I am so, so sorry for, um . . .’ I wiped my forearm across my face, mopping up the dampness from my cheeks, ‘my behaviour.’ Snot gathered fetchingly on my top lip. ‘I don’t know what came over me,’ I offered, feeling sick to my stomach.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘We all make mistakes. We’ll blame it on the drink and the pills, shall we? Next time, though, it’d probably be better not to mix them.’ He took me by the hand and led me into my bedroom. He pulled back the yellow daisy sprigged duvet cover, inviting me to climb in.

‘Goodnight, Beth. Sleep well.’ He leant forward, stroking my hair away from my eyes and behind my ears. With a tissue from the pretty box on the bedside table, he mopped my nose and my eyes with all the tenderness of a father soothing his child. Even in my distressed condition his touch sent a tingle coursing through my veins. His face hovered dangerously close above mine and for one blissful moment I thought his lips might have descended. In fact, I was intently willing those full lips of his to act in an improper manner. But they didn’t. Sadly, they acted with a great deal of propriety.

With a jolt, Rocco pulled himself upright, looking at me with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment upon his face.

‘Jesus, Beth!’ He shook his head in frustration, but whether with himself or me I couldn’t tell. As he held me at arm’s length, his eyes blazing, I could feel the flash of heat radiating between us. A warm sensation was caressing the insides of my tummy before embarking on an insidious journey down between my thighs.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, curtly. ‘Now get to sleep.’ He turned and walked out of the bedroom. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning. There’s plenty we need to discuss.’

My head couldn’t deal with that particular thought just then.

I slipped out of my clothes, abandoning them over the edge of the bed and snuggled beneath the covers.

Moments later I heard Rocco call from the bottom of the stairs, ‘Sweet dreams, Beth.’