Just Desserts (Sweet Temptation, Book 3)

by Ashley Lister

  ‘Shit!’ The producer pushed her to one side as he took charge of Bill. ‘Get me an ambulance,’ he called.

  Trudy had no idea who he was talking to but she could hear the thrum of people eagerly rushing to obey his instructions.

  ‘I want the police here too. Lock down the studio because the bastard who did this isn’t getting out of here without a fight.’

  She flinched from the mention of fighting. Hadn’t there been enough violence already? Timidly she tried to get closer to Bill but the producer pushed her back.

  ‘Let me deal with this,’ he said carefully. ‘I’ve got first-aid training. I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘It looks serious,’ she whispered.

  The producer glanced at Bill’s still body. ‘I think it is serious. But I’ll need you to take a step back so I can look after him, OK?’

  Trudy nodded. She allowed herself to be held by Tom, who was both trembling and gushing sympathy and shock. She didn’t want to watch the producer loosening Bill’s clothes while holding the handle of the blade in place.

  She could see Bill’s face, now grey and contorted with pain.

  ‘That ambulance better be on its way,’ the producer called. ‘And have a runner at the stage door to let them in and get them up here. Security, keep the audience in their seats and make sure everyone is safe. Has anyone found the bastard that did this?’

  Trudy bit back a sob of desperation and tried to go to Bill’s side.

  Tom said, ‘Shush,’ even though she didn’t think she’d said anything. He told her to leave the producer to treat Bill. He held her in his arms until a team of paramedics burst on to the stage, took over from the producer and hurried Bill away. Then Carlos was grabbing her hand and telling her that she was coming in his car to the hospital to wait and see how Bill fared.

  ‘The police might want to talk to you,’ the producer said.

  Because Tom had said he would be coming to the hospital with them too, Trudy didn’t know which of them the producer meant. She guessed he meant all of them. They had all been witnesses to the attack.

  ‘The police can find us easy enough,’ Carlos said.

  Fifteen minutes later they were in the hospital. A receptionist told them Bill was in surgery. It was all the information they had. After the frantic, panicked rush to get to the hospital the news that they would now have to wait was almost as brutal as the assault that Bill had suffered. The three of them were escorted to an empty waiting area and left to sit in nervous silence.

  Harvey called and said he was collecting Charlotte and they would be there within the hour. Trudy then got a call from Charlotte promising her that she would be there as soon as she could manage. There were calls from Imogen, Daryl and Mark before she decided to turn her phone off.

  In the waiting room Tom offered reassuring platitudes while Carlos repeatedly crossed himself and mumbled what sounded like prayers. Trudy could feel herself growing giddy from hearing too many promises that Bill would be OK and everything would be well. She was on the verge of screaming hysterically and she knew she had to get away from Tom and Carlos before she said something unforgivable. She stumbled away from her colleagues, saying she was looking for a coffee machine.

  Neither of them bothered to look up. Clearly both of them were still stunned by what had happened. Trudy gave a watery smile, which neither man noticed, and staggered helplessly down a corridor.

  There were signs for the coffee machine and she had turned two corners before it came into sight. She was stumbling past a vaguely familiar figure as she patted her pockets in search of change. She didn’t know if she wanted a coffee but she supposed it would be good to have something to hold in her hand, to stop her fingers twisting nervously together.

  ‘You bitch,’ Gemma spat.

  She slapped Trudy across the face.

  The blow caught Trudy off guard. She stared at the woman with bewilderment and hurt. Uneasily, she realised she was alone with Gemma in an empty stretch of the corridor. Gemma’s eyes shone with livid ferocity. She looked angry to the point of being manic.

  ‘Why have you called the police on Donny?’ Gemma demanded. ‘Don’t you ever give him a break?’

  Trudy considered the woman with disbelief. ‘Donny just stabbed Bill.’

  ‘Stabbed.’ Gemma sniffed and made a face. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing more than a scratch.’

  ‘He’s in the operating theatre now,’ Trudy gasped.

  Gemma shook her head. Her nostrils curled with confident disdain as she sneered at Trudy. ‘You’re making that up. You’re such a drama queen.’

  Trudy sighed and pushed past Gemma so she could get to the coffee machine. Her cheek stung where she had been slapped but she paid it no attention. She simply wanted to get a cup of coffee to hold and then return to the waiting room and Carlos and Tom.

  ‘Believe what you want to believe, Gemma,’ she muttered. ‘You’ve been believing Donny’s lies for so long I’d be surprised if you recognised the truth when you heard it.’

  She studied the coffee machine, trying to make sense of the flavours and prices through the tears that now filled her eyes. The stinging pain in her cheek only made her think of Bill and the pleasure he could bestow when he made her flesh sting. And, as soon as her thoughts turned to Bill, the tears became more insistent and began to pour down her cheeks.

  A voice from beside the coffee machine whispered, ‘You do know this is all your fault, don’t you?’

  She wiped the back of her wrist against her eyes and was amazed to see Donny standing beside the machine.

  20

  He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into a nearby room. She was so surprised to find him there that she didn’t even attempt to pull away from him.

  ‘Slut,’ Donny hissed.

  The word was harsh enough to make Trudy wince. Even when she saw it wasn’t directed at her, when she saw that Donny was snapping his fingers and gesturing for Gemma’s attention, Trudy still thought the word sounded cruel and hurtful.

  ‘Slut,’ Donny repeated. This time his voice was harsher and insistent. ‘I want you to stand here,’ he said, pointing at the door, ‘and make sure no one disturbs us, do you understand?’

  Gemma nodded eagerly and obediently. She took her position guarding the door, scowling at Trudy with obvious contempt.

  Donny rounded on Trudy. ‘This is all your fault,’ he growled. He released his hold on her wrist. ‘It’s all your fault,’ he repeated. ‘All you had to do was show a little interest in me.’

  She took in the surroundings. They were in a private single room. It was unoccupied. The bed was stripped and the bedside cabinet empty, except for a pair of hygienically sealed pillows on top. The room smelled clinical and clean.

  She shook her head and tried to make sense of his outburst.

  ‘How is this my fault?’

  ‘All you had to do was give me a chance.’

  She frowned, not sure she had heard correctly. ‘A chance? A chance to do what?’

  ‘I wanted to date you.’

  She put a hand over her mouth to catch the horrified scream she wanted to release. ‘You wanted to date me?’

  ‘I’ve fancied you since we started uni together. I’ve always wanted to date you.’

  ‘You’ve just been too busy shagging my friends and stabbing my boyfriends!’

  He frowned. ‘You’re making fun of me.’

  ‘I’m glad someone is having fun here, Donny,’ she said. ‘Because I’m at the end of my tether worrying about the man I love.’ She paused for a moment, sure that ‘end of my tether’ was one of Bill’s Yorkshire phrases. It was only as an afterthought that she realised she had called him ‘the man I love’.

  Donny snorted with disdain. ‘You don’t love him. You can’t love him.’

  She blinked. ‘Why can’t I love him? Is this about the age difference? Or is this –’

  He clasped her hand in his and studied her intently. The ferocity of his gesture was enough
to make her fall silent. ‘You can’t love him because I love you. He’s nothing. You and I were meant to be together.’

  She tried to think of a way to respond. His words seemed so nonsensical that it took a moment before she could think of an appropriate reply.

  ‘I thought you loved Gemma.’

  ‘Gemma’s a useful bed for most nights but she means nothing to me.’

  ‘This is insane.’ She started towards the door. She had barely made it past him when Donny reached out and grabbed her wrist.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he growled. ‘Not until you’ve told me that you love me.’

  ‘Love you?’ she repeated. ‘You inspire so much contempt I can barely look at you.’

  He stared at her with a mixture of hurt and disbelief.

  The expression was wiped away by his renewed resolve as he clutched her wrist more tightly and said, ‘No. You must love me. You must love me as much as I love you.’

  Trudy didn’t know where the strength came from. All she knew was that it surged through her with a huge rush. She tugged her wrist from his grasp and balled her hand into a fist. Without thinking what she was doing, she slammed the fist hard into his jaw.

  She heard the shattering crack of his teeth clamping together.

  She felt a jolt of pain slam through her fingers and tear through her arm.

  The impact lifted him off his feet. He fell to the floor and she guessed he was unconscious even before the back of his head smacked against the hard linoleum.

  ‘Of course I don’t love you, Donny,’ she spat angrily. ‘I love Bill.’

  ‘Good punch.’

  Trudy whirled to face Gemma. She backed away, expecting trouble. She was suddenly conscious of the pain throbbing in her fist and knew she wouldn’t be able to fight Gemma too. Her shoulders slumped and she readied herself for whatever punishment the woman decided to throw at her.

  Gemma shook her head as though rejecting the idea of violence. There were tears in her eyes. She sneered at the unconscious Donny. ‘The bastard said he’d never loved me. He said I was a useful bed. And he said I meant nothing to him.’

  Trudy didn’t know what to say. She realised Gemma was upset, but her thoughts were with Bill. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the private room, or if she’d missed any news by not being in the waiting room. She needed to get back, in case they had further information on Bill’s condition.

  ‘I’ve phoned the police,’ Gemma said, waving her phone at Trudy. ‘And I’m sorry for any upset I’ve ever caused you.’ She glared contemptuously down at Donny.

  Not sure how to treat Gemma’s apology, Trudy asked, ‘Do you want me to get a porter or someone to help you watch him until the police arrive?’

  ‘Please,’ Gemma said.

  Trudy thanked her and rushed out into the corridor. She found a porter and directed him to the room where Gemma and Donny were. Then she went back to the waiting room to find that Harvey and Charlotte and Daryl had arrived.

  She fell into Charlotte’s arms and sobbed.

  21

  Trudy had barely finished being consoled by Charlotte when she saw that Aliceon, Imogen and baby Bill had joined them in the waiting room. Even the producer of Master Baker was there, the cuffs of his jacket darkened with Bill’s blood.

  And so was Mark. It was the sight of the doctor’s easy grin that gave Trudy the most reassurance. He stood in the doorway dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and a T-shirt that hugged his broad, manly chest. She could tell from his confident gait that he was on familiar territory. More than anyone else, he would be able to get them answers they needed about Bill’s condition.

  ‘Is there any news?’

  He flashed an embarrassed smile. ‘He’s out of surgery. The surgeon will be here in a moment to give you all the details.’

  ‘Is he alive?’

  Mark nodded.

  Trudy struggled not to swoon with relief.

  A commotion made them all turn. Three police officers were leading Donny out of the small room further up the corridor and he was struggling against their hold on him.

  Gemma was with the officers and she pointed to Trudy.

  ‘She’s there,’ she explained. She spoke hurriedly but in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Donny had dragged her into that room. He was the one who stabbed her boyfriend and he was coming on to her. She was perfectly justified in knocking him unconscious.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Charlotte whispered in surprise. She turned to look at Trudy and asked, ‘Is this true?’

  Trudy shrugged awkwardly. ‘Gemma makes it sound more exciting than it was,’ she said. ‘Donny dragged me into a side room and declared his undying love for me. I had to resist his advances.’

  ‘Undying love?’ Imogen repeated.

  ‘Bastard,’ said Daryl with a sniff.

  ‘Resist his advances?’ Harvey echoed the words. He placed a hand on Trudy’s shoulder and studied her doubtfully. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  ‘It means she punched him unconscious,’ Gemma told him. Her grin was enormous, if a little spoilt by its vindictive edge. ‘I think he might have lost a couple of teeth.’

  Charlotte studied Trudy uncertainly. ‘What the hell did you do, hon?’

  Trudy gave an embarrassed smile. She lifted her hand and showed the bruised knuckles. The fingers looked swollen. She uncurled them slowly and painfully.

  ‘Is this true?’ asked the police officer on Gemma’s arm. He looked suddenly concerned. He pointed back towards Donny and asked, ‘Did you assault this man?’

  Harvey stepped between the pair and took immediate charge of the situation.

  ‘Trudy is here waiting to find out how her boyfriend is after a violent stabbing,’ he said coolly. ‘It appears she’s been subjected to some form of attack by the man you’ve got there, but she’s dealt with that herself. I’m not going to allow her to be taken down to your station to be interviewed until she’s found out what’s happened to the man she loves.’

  The officer considered Harvey for a long moment.

  The producer took that moment to intervene. ‘That’s the man who stabbed Bill Hart,’ he said, pointing at Donny.

  The officer nodded and gestured for the producer to join him. Waving a hand at Harvey he said, ‘I’ll have an officer waiting here to accompany this young lady to the station once she’s found out about her boyfriend, OK?’

  Harvey thanked him and promised that Trudy would do as requested.

  As the officer walked down the corridor a young female surgeon stepped inside. ‘Who’s the next of kin, please?’

  ‘I’m his agent,’ said Harvey. ‘This is his wife. This is his daughter and this is his current girlfriend. I think we’ve all got an equal share of him.’

  The surgeon nodded and glanced doubtfully at Mark, Charlotte and Daryl. ‘And these other people?’

  ‘They’re close enough to be family,’ Harvey said. ‘Please, doctor. We need to know how he is.’

  ‘He’s incredibly lucky,’ the surgeon said. ‘The knife was a millimetre away from catching his aorta.’

  Trudy put a hand over her mouth to contain a surge of nausea.

  ‘A centimetre to the left and it would have plunged through his heart. As it was, the knife has cut through one rib and punctured his lung.’

  ‘What’s the prognosis?’ Mark asked.

  The surgeon raised an eyebrow and said, ‘We’ve stabilised him and put stitches where they were needed. He’ll stay here for observation for the next couple of days but, as I said before, he’s an incredibly lucky man.’

  ‘Can we see him?’

  ‘He’ll be out from the anaesthetic for the next couple of hours,’ the surgeon said. ‘When he’s back in the land of the living you can go in singly, as long as you don’t tire him out.’

  It was six hours later when Trudy received the phone call from Bill.

  ‘I’m alive,’ he muttered.

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ she said, smiling. The
relief that surged through her made her feel momentarily giddy. ‘Is this a booty call?’ she asked. ‘Are you expecting me to come over to your hospital room and satisfy your salacious needs?’

  ‘It’s probably best if you let my stitches heal first,’ he said tactfully. ‘Although I’m curious to know why you’re not by my bedside doting on me.’

  ‘Doting? Is that another of your Yorkshire words?’

  ‘I’m not sure. But why aren’t you here?’

  ‘I’m running your restaurant for you this evening.’

  ‘I want you here. I have an important question to ask you.’

  Her heartbeat quickened. ‘What question?’

  ‘No. It’s not a question I can ask over the phone.’

  ‘You can ask any question over the phone. That’s what they’re for.’

  ‘Not this question.’

  ‘Were you going to ask me to marry you?’

  There was a pause on the other end. Eventually Bill said, ‘As a matter of fact, that was the question.’

  ‘About time,’ she said. ‘But the answer’s no.’

  22

  A month later, on the day of her best friend’s wedding, Trudy was naked and bent over Bill’s kitchen sink. The shiny floor tiles looked as though they had been polished that morning. The windows overlooked the rustic greenery of his chicken runs, the carp pond, a modest stable and the faraway shape of Aliceon’s cottage.

  Trudy loved Bill’s kitchen.

  There was an island-cum-breakfast bar in the centre of the room. The island was cluttered with various appliances, including an espresso machine, a croissant warmer, blenders, grills, kettles and mixers. The walls were hung with knives, tongs, spatulas and oven mitts. The work surfaces gleamed with the polish of meticulous hygiene. It had everything a chef could desire.

  But Trudy loved Bill’s kitchen for much more than that.