Recipe for Romance

by Susan Perkins

  "Thank you," Reeve said pleasantly as she handed the plate to him. "Did you make this?"

  "Yes," Kirsty replied modestly. "When I make a rich cake like this one, I freeze it in slices. This one looked too good to cut, so I froze it whole. It should be defrosted by now, though."

  "Remind me to taste some of your dishes at the hotel," Reeve stated through crumb- dusted lips. "This is superb."

  A forkful of cake found its way to Kirsty's mouth and she chewed it slowly thinking over what Reeve had said. It might be his way of making up for all the nastiness. Could he really be trying to put everything behind them and start afresh? She'd never know for sure. It wouldn't hurt to be pleasant to him, and it might make him easier to work with. A movement further down the beach caught her attention.

  "Do you like sand yachting?" She was thankful to be able to change the subject. "It's the main reason I came down to the beach. I don't often get the chance to watch their races, but they're practicing today."

  "I have to confess I'm a bit of a sand yachtie myself, but I haven't got a craft of my own and have to rely on friends. I'm a stranger in town, unfortunately, and don't know any of the people here."

  "What a pity. I'd love to have seen you race." Kirsty spoke sincerely. Reeve looked the type of man who enjoyed outdoor sports, and she could imagine him throwing himself wholeheartedly into something as energetic as sand yachting. He helped her pack the picnic basket, and they moved back to the bank overlooking the impromptu race track. Kirsty saw more yachts had arrived during the lunch break and, placing the basket on the ground, she hung on to a tree branch as she took a step forward to enjoy a better view of the racing.

  "Maybe you could tell me something." Her head turned to face Reeve. "I've always wondered if this type of vehicle—or is it a vessel? Anyway, what I want to know is if this type of thing has ever been used as a means of transport? Do you know?"

  "I'm not really sure. I believe history states the ancient Chinese and Egyptians had some form of vehicles driven by wind, but I don't think it took off as a sport until the beginning of this century in America. Now every country in the world seems to be having a go at it."

  Kirsty smiled her thanks and turned back to watch the racing. Her foot slipped and Reeve placed his hand under her elbow to steady her. Again her heart leapt and the warmth of his touch started a flood of liquid heat pulsing through her. She quickly moved away, forcing him to let go of her arm.

  "Sorry." Her apology sounded breathless as she sat down on the bank. "I'm a bit sensitive to static electricity."

  "Really?" Reeve sat beside and his eyebrow rose in the disbelieving manner she had grown to dread.

  Even to Kirsty her excuse sounded feeble, and his expression didn't surprise her. She sat rigidly beside him, wondering why on earth her body reacted this way when he touched her.

  Kirsty and Reeve remained silent for several minutes, then he commented on the design of one of the yachts, and she replied. Before long the tension drained slowly from her, and she felt at ease again. Or at least as comfortable as possible with Reeve sitting so close to her. After another hour of spills and thrills, the racers loaded their yachts onto the trailers and Kirsty sighed. "I suppose it's time to go."

  "You don't sound too happy this has finished." Reeve looked at her intently.

  "It's been such a glorious day, it seems a pity for it to end. A night in front of the television sounds a bit tame after all this fresh air." Kirsty started to rise, but it turned into a scramble to get to her feet when Reeve stretched out a hand to help her. There'd been enough embarrassment for one day, thank you!

  "The day doesn't have to end, Kirsty." He strolled beside her as they walked toward the car park. "Would you like to come out to dinner with me tonight? It would make me feel less guilty about eating your magnificent lunch."

  Dinner! She couldn't go out to dinner with him. What if he touched her again?

  Don't be silly, Kirsty, her subconscious cautioned. You can't go through your whole life avoiding him.

  Maybe not but I can restrict our meetings to work.

  The voice deep within forced her to open her mouth and politely decline his offer, but he forestalled her.

  "I don't know many people in this area. Of course, there's the added bonus of taking a lady to dinner who can truly appreciate the cuisine."

  The look in his eyes reminded Kirsty of a puppy she'd had as a child, pleading with her to make him happy. Just in time the memory returned of the puppy ripping her best dress to shreds. Her back straightened as she firmly shook her head.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Stuart. I don't believe in mixing business with pleasure."

  His lips twitched as he bowed his head in acceptance.

  "No, Miss Lawrence—Kirsty, I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry we got off to such a bad start you don't feel comfortable in my company. Thank you for a delicious lunch. I shall see you at the hotel tomorrow."

  Kirsty watched unhappily as Reeve walk toward a powerful dark blue car parked near her older, much-loved banger. He waved his hand and reversed from the parking space, then roared off down the road.

  He'd gotten the wrong impression about her refusal to have dinner with him, but she couldn't tell him the real reason. What would he think if he knew she wouldn't go out with him in case his hand brushed hers and started the horrible, lovely, unexplainable reaction in her body?

  Chapter Five

  The following afternoon Kirsty cornered Gina in the office behind the reception desk. "Gina, do you fancy going out one night next week?"

  "Sounds good to me," Gina replied. "I could do with a wild night of partying."

  "Hey, I meant going to a club or the movies," Kirsty protested with a laugh. "Something to give us a break from work. I feel all I've done the last few weeks is eat, sleep and work."

  "I was only joking... well, half-joking. Any particular place you'd like to go?"

  "It really depends on if we can get time off together." Kirsty looked at the calendar on the wall. "When's your day off?"

  "Next Tuesday," Gina stated. "Haven't you just had yours?"

  "Yes, but Mr. Stuart keeps talking about me taking time off to make up for the extra hours I've worked. He says the hotel can't afford to pay me overtime. I thought I'd ask if I could have Tuesday afternoon and evening off. Then I can leave for my afternoon break and not come back until Thursday morning."

  "Sounds like heaven." Gina looked thoughtful. "Hey, you don't think this place is in trouble, do you?"

  "No, why?"

  "The hotel being sold, and Mr. Stuart saying they can't afford to pay you overtime. Maybe it's a whatchamacallit—you know where they take over a company and liquidate its assets." Gina sighed. "It would be just my luck to be made redundant when I'm saving up to go overseas."

  "Overseas! Where are you thinking of going?" Kirsty smiled. Gina always insisted she was saving for one thing or another. Her fund usually got as far as a few hundred dollars, then a new dress caught her eye, or she simply had to have a night on the town and blew all her savings.

  "I thought maybe England. You know—look up the rellies Mum and Dad have over there. Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Do you think the hotel's in trouble?"

  "I haven't really thought about it, but I don't think Reeve Stuart's the type of man to get involved with something which is losing money, especially if the rumors are true and he's the one who's bought the place."

  "Let's hope not." Gina sighed again. "Now I've got work to do, and I bet you do, too. Let's leave it as we'll go out next Tuesday if you can get the time off. Let me know if there's any problem."

  "Will do." Kirsty grinned over her shoulder as she opened the door. Unfortunately Reeve stood outside and as she tried to leave, her shoulder brushed against him. Once again the uncomfortable warm, fluttery feeling rushed through Kirsty's body.

  "Excuse me," she muttered

  "No, excuse me." Reeve smiled at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize there was anybody in here."


  "Mr. Stuart." Kirsty decided to strike while the iron was hot, plus it took her mind off the unsettling feelings he sparked off when he touched her. "About the extra time owed to me. Would it be possible for me to have some of it next Tuesday evening? I'd like to leave for my afternoon break, then take the rest of the day off."

  "I have no objections, Miss Lawrence, but I would appreciate it if you could check it's all right with Chef Antoine." Reeve grinned crookedly at her. "I realize it's my job to do this, but as you are heading in his direction..."

  He left the question hanging in the air, and Kirsty smiled at him unaware the smile lit up her face and made it glow with health and happiness, transforming her from a nice-looking young woman into an extremely attractive one.

  "No problem, Mr. Stuart. I can easily ask Chef."

  "Well, if you or Chef Antoine could confirm your time off on Tuesday within the next twenty-four hours, Miss Lawrence, then I see no problem."

  Kirsty thanked him and hurried across reception to the door leading to back-of-house. She headed straight for Chef Antoine after she entered the kitchen. He sat at his desk sorting through invoices for the kitchen supplies.

  "Chef, I've spoken to Mr. Stuart about having a half day next Tuesday. I asked if I could leave for my afternoon break, then take the rest of the day off. Naturally he said I must check with you before he could give his approval."

  "I should think so!" Chef looked at her indignantly. "Next Tuesday? We might just about manage without you for one evening, Lawrence. You may tell Mr. Stuart I've given my consent."

  "Thank you, Chef."

  Kirsty turned away, puzzled by his attitude. Although Antoine could be prone to sarcasm, in the past his comments had been tempered with a touch of humor. Lately, his manner toward Kirsty had been brusque and unfriendly. What was wrong with the man? He couldn't be taking petty revenge for her actions in Mr. Stuart's office because his manner had changed before the meeting.

  Reeve showed Kirsty a pleasant politeness when told Chef Antoine had approved her time off. The pleasantness continued through the following Monday when he consulted her about the slightest detail before making any comments or orders regarding the working of the kitchen. She realized he was being extra careful around her, and responded accordingly, relieved not to be at loggerheads with him all the time.

  Gina rushed into the kitchen Monday evening with a harassed look on her face.

  "Kirsty, I've got to work tomorrow afternoon," she grumbled.

  "Bother! It means we'll have to cancel our night out." Kirsty felt really annoyed. She'd been looking forward to her girls-night-out with Gina.

  "What?" Gina said distractedly. "Oh, no, I can still go. What makes me mad is I wanted to have a long soak in the bath, then take my time doing my nails and hair tomorrow afternoon. Now I'll have to bring my stuff in and change here. Somehow it's never the same when I have to do things in a rush."

  "Are you sure you wouldn't like to change it to another night? It doesn't bother me." Kirsty silently crossed her fingers, praying her friend wouldn't take her up on the offer.

  "No, it's okay. Would you mind coming back to the hotel to meet me tomorrow night?"

  "No problem." Kirsty grinned. "I'll walk up if it's fine. Is seven-thirty all right?"

  "Great! I'll order us a taxi for a quarter to eight." Gina's normal good humor was restored and, with a grin, she hurried from the kitchen.

  When Chef came in on Tuesday morning, a relieved Kirsty announced there had been no major upheavals the previous day.

  "Fine, Lawrence." Antoine flapped a hand in her direction. He didn't seem in the least bit interested in what she'd been saying. "However, we do have work to do today, so if you don't mind..."

  Kirsty had been about to remind him about her afternoon off, but decided to leave it until later in the morning. She felt like a wet rag by the time the lunch rush had finished. Antoine hadn't helped with the food preparation. Instead, he'd flung conflicting orders left and right, then criticized Kirsty and the maids over every little detail. Now he'd changed into his street clothes and headed toward the door leading outside the hotel.

  "I'll be gone for a few hours, Lawrence. Please have everything ready for the evening meal by the time I come back."

  "Wait, Chef!" Kirsty hurried toward her boss. "I'm sorry, but I won't be here. Have you forgotten I have the afternoon and evening off today?"

  "Nonsense, Lawrence. Your time off is for next week, not today."

  "No, it's not. It's today. I'm sorry, but I've made plans to go out."

  "Then you'll have to cancel them, Lawrence. My errand is extremely important. Much more urgent than your little outing. You really should make more effort to remember things. I distinctly recall you asking for next Tuesday off, so you'll have to change your plans, won't you?" Chef Antoine turned and headed for the door again, leaving Kirsty seething with frustration.

  "One moment, Chef!"

  REEVE DECIDED TO CHECK no problem had arisen with Kirsty's time off in view of Antoine's antics over the past few weeks. He entered through the restaurant doors in time to hear Kirsty's exchange with Antoine. Now he stood behind Kirsty, determined to be her champion and ensure her evening off wasn't cancelled.

  "Please, Mr. Stuart, can't this wait? I have an urgent appointment and I really must hurry." Chef Antoine moved impatiently toward the door again.

  "Then I'm afraid you'll have to reschedule your urgent appointment, Chef Antoine. Miss Lawrence is correct, her time off was approved for today."

  "Nonsense, Mr. Stuart. As usual, Lawrence has made a mistake. I gave permission for her to have a half day next Tuesday, not today." Chef glowered at Kirsty, his eyes threatening dire consequences if she dared to contradict him.

  "I'm afraid you're wrong, Chef Antoine." Reeve remained firm. "If you recall, I confirmed your approval of Miss Lawrence's time off. I mentioned today by date and time, and you agreed it was correct. Therefore, Miss Lawrence has every right to leave this afternoon. We really must honor our commitments to her mustn't we, Chef Antoine?"

  Out of the corner of his eye Reeve saw Kirsty look at him. Did she suspect he had deliberately asked Antoine about the details of her time off in case the man had had one of his 'memory lapses'?

  "Really, Mr. Stuart, Miss Lawrence is a member of my staff. If I order her to work this evening, then she'll work." Chef Antoine obviously considered his statement finished the argument, but Reeve had no intention of letting him wriggle out of the situation.

  "Miss Lawrence, please change to your street clothes and carry on with your time off as planned."

  Reeve saw Kirsty hesitate and look from one man to the other, then she slowly walked toward the staff room. She kept glancing over her shoulder, her attitude showing she was sure Antoine would win in the end.

  "Mr. Stuart, this is ridiculous. Lawrence no doubt has some little outing planned with her girlfriends, whilst my appointment is extremely important." Chef's voice wavered, and Reeve wondered if anger or spite caused the wobble.

  "If your appointment is so important, Chef Antoine, I wonder why you made it for today. You knew Miss Lawrence would be absent." Reeve nodded as Kirsty emerged from the staff room.

  "I evidently forgot, Mr. Stuart, but I'm sure Lawrence can rearrange her calendar." He turned to Kirsty, who stood nervously in the doorway, for once looking unsure of herself. "You wouldn't mind doing me such a little favor, would you, Lawrence?"

  "Under no circumstances will Miss Lawrence change her plans." Reeve's voice snapped out like a whiplash. "The hotel has taken enough of her free time. Apart from anything else, the law demands she should only work a certain number of hours each week. During the past two weeks, Miss Lawrence's work schedule has far exceeded those hours. The least we can do is honor our agreement with her, without expecting her to change her plans at a minute's notice. Miss Lawrence, you're free to go."

  Reeve held open the dining room door and, firmly holding Kirsty's arm, he ushered her from the kitchen straigh
t through the dining room and into reception. Kirsty hesitated again, but Reeve didn't give her a chance to change her mind.

  "Sorry about the disagreement, Miss Lawrence." He stood before her as they stopped in the hotel foyer. "I feel we should stick to our word concerning your time off. You've worked far too many hours, and I knew if I left you alone with Chef Antoine he'd have talked you in to staying." He smiled warmly at her, and pushed her toward the outer door. "Now off you go and have a nice evening."

  "Thank you, Mr. Stuart." Kirsty couldn't hide her shyness from him. Reeve turned away, afraid he would show the emotions which surged up inside him as he touched her.

  GINA HAD BEEN DEALING with a customer at the reception desk, but Kirsty knew she'd been keeping an eye on her talk with Reeve and now her eyebrows rose in query.

  "Tell you tonight," Kirsty mouthed silently and, with a wave of her hand, left the hotel through the glass doors at the main entrance.

  Kirsty walked through the evening twilight up the hill to the hotel, arriving a few minutes before seven-thirty. She waited outside the entrance, expecting her friend to come rushing out with tales of last minute holdups. Her mind dwelt on whether she'd dressed in the right clothes for the occasion. Her pale blue dress with a light woolen shawl and white sandals would be fine for a restaurant and some of the clubs, but if Gina decided to visit a more fashionable place she would be dismally underdressed. A glance at her wristwatch showed the time to be way past seven-thirty, and Gina still hadn't appeared. Kirsty went into reception to look for her.

  "Gina, what are you doing behind the desk?" she hissed at her friend. "You should've finished work and be ready to leave by now."

  "The evening girl's got the flu!" Gina wailed softly. "I only found out I had to work about an hour ago. I tried to ring you, but you'd already left."