Saskia pushed down on his shoulders to steady herself, and made the mistake of looking into his face. And was lost, drowning in the deep pools of his eyes, which seemed to magically bind her so tight that resistance was futile. She tried to focus on the tanned, creased forehead above a mouth that was soft and wide.
Lush.
He was wearing an aftershave that smelt of warm spice, his head and throat were only inches from her face, her bosom pressed against the fine fabric. In a fraction of a second, Saskia was conscious that his hand had taken a firmer grip around her waist, moving over her thin silk dress as though it was the finest lingerie, so that she could sense the heat of his fingertips on her warm skin beneath.
She felt something connect in her gut, took a deep breath and watched words form in that amazing mouth.
‘I think we make our own destiny...’ Rick whispered, his gaze locked onto her eyes, and slowly closed the gap between their bodies, drawing her towards him by invisible ropes of steel.
‘Destiny...?’ she whispered.
‘Who dares wins. Don’t you take chances, Saskia?’
‘Only with you...’ Saskia replied, but the words were driven from her mind as Rick’s fingers wound up into her hair and, drawing her closer, he slanted his head so that his warm, soft lips gently glided over hers, then firmer, hotter.
The sensation blew away any vague idea that might have been forming in her head that she could resist this man for one second longer. Her eyes closed as heat rushed from her toes to the tips of her ears and everything else in the world was lost in the giddy sensation.
She wanted the earth to stop spinning so that this moment could last for ever.
Before she could change her mind, Saskia Elwood closed her eyes and kissed Rick Burgess back, tasting the heat of his mouth, a heady smell of coffee, chocolate crumbs and aftershave, sensing his resistance melt as he moved deeper into the kiss, her own arms lifting to wrap around his neck.
She let the pressure of his lips and the scent and sensation of his body warm every cell in her body before she finally pulled her head back.
Rick looked up at her with those blue-grey eyes, his chest responding to his faster breathing, and whispered, ‘Here’s to taking chances,’ before sliding his hand down the whole length of her back and onto her waist, the pressure drawing her forward as he moved his head into her neck and throat, kissing her on the collarbone, then up behind her ears, his fingers moving in wide circles over her back.
‘Hey Rick, just to let you know that I dropped that champagne off at Nicole’s place... Oops. Later...’
Saskia opened her eyes in time to see the back of a man’s coat jog out of the door and in one single movement she pulled back and smoothed down the ruffled fabric of her dress with one hand as she gathered up her hair, which had mysteriously become untied.
‘I...er...need to get my bag,’ Saskia just about managed to stammer out and waved her hand towards the bedroom. ‘Handbag. For the wedding. And do something with my hair. Ten minutes.’
Rick coughed. ‘Great idea. Ten minutes. Right.’
* * *
Rick stood at the table and flicked through his notes on the speech that he planned to give at the wedding party, but the words refused to sink in.
All he could think about was Saskia.
He hadn’t planned to kiss her or touch her but one touch was all it needed for him to give in to the magnetic attraction he’d felt for Saskia since that first time he’d seen her standing on the pavement only a few days earlier.
His eyes squeezed tight with frustration.
When had he become such an idiot? And just when he’d thought that she was close to agreeing to work with him, trying to achieve something. Together. As his business partner and best customer, not his lover.
He had tried that before with a girl he’d thought he knew and been burnt.
Saskia had been honest with him from day one.
She was scared about stepping outside her world and working with him, he could see that. And now he might just have blown their fledgling relationship out of the water.
In a few short days Saskia had become a friend, the person he wanted to talk to and spend time with.
But what happened now?
Because one thing was clear. He would only make a commitment to Saskia Elwood that he was prepared to deliver. His life could change at a moment’s notice. He was the last kind of man who could give her what she needed.
Last night in the restaurant his neighbours had teased him mercilessly with their gentle ribbing about him bringing a girl home for once. Even the waitress had whispered sweet words about his pretty ‘amour’ in his ear on the way out. And now he was off to Nicole and Jean’s wedding with an unexpected lady guest.
Little wonder that his friend had seen him with Saskia and thought they were more than work colleagues.
Well, they were wrong. In so many ways. He was not the kind of man who wanted a long-term relationship and Saskia must have worked that out for herself. She was a clever girl.
Except...when he’d kissed her face? Everything had changed.
No going back. But maybe, just maybe, he could rescue their friendship and build on it. Create a bond that was more than physical. A bond that linked them through a common passion for the one thing they both knew about. Family.
She would know not to expect anything more from him, wouldn’t she?
EIGHT
Must-Do list
Be sure to take lots of photos of the outdoor wedding theme. Would it work in a walled garden and patio in London?
Focus on the cake and the food and lighting. Take notes and cadge a few recipes if you can from the locals.
Remember to take tissues in case you embarrass yourself at the wedding.
Do NOT let Rick talk you into buying their entire wine production as a wedding present, no matter how much you would like to. BAD idea. Taste it first and check the numbers. Heart. Head. Frosty
‘Hey. This is a wedding. You are not supposed to be in the kitchen,’ Rick whispered into her ear as he sauntered up to her and grabbed her around the middle. ‘Although I suppose it is an improvement on taking notes on your smartphone during your tour of the cellars.’
‘Who, me?’ Saskia answered, both of her hands too occupied at that moment to fend him off or scold him. ‘I have officially given up all hope of doing anything workwise for the next few hours so I am forced to enjoy myself. And the bride needs to be with her family, not plating up choux buns. I am happy to help out since they were kind enough to invite me.’
‘Agreed. It’s been years since I’ve seen a proper champagne sword being put to such excellent use in demolishing a toffee profiterole tower. And they say chivalry is dead.’
‘It was the highlight of the cake-cutting ceremony.’ Saskia nodded. ‘Nicole’s mother made the croquembouche fresh this morning, with lots of help from her two nephews. They are the eight and six-year-olds who are running around on the table right now, high on fat and sugar. Apparently they gobbled up any odd-looking profiteroles so they wouldn’t spoil the display. It was very generous of them.’
‘Family loyalty. And you can’t beat a proper profiterole tower for impact.’
‘Quite right. In fact, this gives me an idea for the perfect wedding cake for my friend Amber, who’s getting married at Elwood House at New Year. I’m thinking golden profiteroles, crème patissèrie, toffee sauce and a cloud of caramel veil, but with fresh mango and raspberry. Delicious! Orchids on the side.’
Rick picked up one of the choux buns with his fingers and bit into it. Saskia simply shook her head and carried on plating out the delicate pastries, using two spoons to break up the crystal caramel and dividing the profiteroles into groups of four on lovely china plates.
‘Pretty good,’ he murmured and popped the other half into his mouth. ‘And I don’t have a sweet tooth.’
‘Excellent. More for the rest of us.’ She laughed and slid the plates onto the dessert table, wher
e they were whisked away, with the platters of mini macaroons and tiny light-as-a-feather fairy cakes topped with fresh berries, to the round tables which filled the patio around the central fountain outside the main stone house where the wedding had been held. ‘Because I do have a sweet tooth and this is heaven.’
Rick wiped his hands down and peered at what was left of the tower as she cracked through the crisp caramel and divided out the buns. ‘I would say at a guess that you’ve done that before.’
Saskia stood back and admired the table. ‘I now declare that this croquembouche is officially demolished. And yes, I have broken up caramel shards and clouds before.’
‘Well, in that case—’ Rick nodded ‘—let’s grab our plates and join the party. I want to hear all about your previous career as a pastry chef.’
‘Career? I could hardly call it that. My Elwood grandparents used to run an old auberge in Alsace. Yes. In the vineyard where they produce that dessert wine you enjoy so much. I might have picked up a few catering tips during my visits as a girl. And I do recall lots of family birthdays and weddings.’
Images of wonderful afternoons spent baking with her family flooded Saskia’s memory and she chuckled out loud in delight for a second before her smile faded. Now she cooked and baked alone and she hadn’t realised just how much she missed the companionship until that moment. How odd.
She blinked across at Rick and smiled. ‘But that’s very boring. Unlike your little speech to the guests just now, singing the praises of the bride and groom. I was impressed, Mr Burgess. And all in the most excellent French.’
‘Why, thank you. I meant it. They have a great future ahead of them and the passion to go with it. All praise to that.’
Saskia stopped at the entrance to the stone courtyard, then turned away and strolled out to the edge of the garden and looked out over to the low hills covered in neat rows of grapevines, which she could just make out in the fading light. The ambers, golds and reds of the autumn trees and leaves contrasted against the green foliage of the conifers to create a lovely autumn scene. It was tranquil and serene and everything that she remembered about Alsace.
‘It is so lovely. Are you planning to come back for the harvest?’ she asked.
‘Nope. I would only get in the way and I have appointments in Argentina with some amazing new wine estates. Nicole will let me know about yields and her first impressions when she’s ready. I only hope they can relax on honeymoon for a week before coming back to the harvest. The weather forecast is looking mixed for the rest of the month but it should be a good vintage.’
‘My goodness, Mr Burgess—’ she smiled ‘—for a moment there, you sounded like a wine merchant.’
He burst out laughing and spun her around by twirling her waist. Then, before she could complain, he pressed his warm lips against hers and held them there for just a fraction of a second too long to be a friendly kiss between colleagues.
She might blame it on the atmosphere of the wedding and the beautiful setting, but it was probably one of the most romantic and lovely moments she’d ever had and it was so, so tempting to lean into that kiss and turn it into something else.
But that would mean giving into the sensation and letting him take over her life.
The Rick she had seen at this wedding and earlier at the chalet was so tempting. He was so charming, so handsome and so beguiling that her poor girlish heart yearned to see where that kiss might take them and not care about the consequences.
She had known all along that he was dangerous. From the very start. But this was different. This time she wanted to be dangerous.
‘You really must stop doing that!’ Saskia protested and pushed him away. ‘What if I kissed you in public?’ she asked, pressing her hands on the front of his beautiful suit. ‘How would you like it?’
‘Like it,’ he growled. ‘I would write song lyrics and put posters up all over town with photographs to prove it.’
‘You really are completely shameless. Do you know that?’
‘It has been said. But it is a burden I have come to live with over the years.’
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘I give up. I relax and enjoy myself just this once and take a few hours away from work and I get pounced on. You see. This is what happens when I try to live in the moment or whatever it is you do.’
‘Weddings. Happens all the time. Hey, you’re a girl. What is it about weddings that makes every woman in the room turned back into a giggly schoolgirl and then go all weepy? And don’t think I didn’t notice you passing around the tissues during the service.’
‘Do you really want to know or are you trying to come up with an excuse for kissing me?’
‘I really want to know. And I don’t need an excuse.’
‘Okay then, I will tell you. Because, as you correctly point out, I’m a girl, and you are potentially going to become one of my wine merchants. Which, in my book, means that we should be open and honest at all times. And you can stop looking at me like that. I’m quite serious. Honest and open.’
‘Right. If you say so. Should I be taking notes?’ He patted his pockets as though looking for pen and paper.
‘Right. That’s it. I’m off to join the ladies and scoff desserts and chocolates. You are on your own.’
‘I apologise. Please. I’m genuinely interested in your answer.’
Saskia looked into those grey-blue eyes, which were gazing at her at that moment with such an innocent expression that it was impossible to stay angry at him. Perhaps that was it? Perhaps he just beguiled ladies into submission?
‘Very well,’ she replied in a low voice. ‘Weddings. A to Z. Key points.’
She gestured with her head towards the long kitchen table, where the wedding guests were laughing and singing and passing around desserts and wine. It was dusk now and the crystal glassware reflected back candlelight and the warm glow from lanterns hanging from the branches of the plane tree above their heads.
‘I see this as a celebration. Look at this wonderful setting. Friends and family all gathered together having a wonderful time celebrating love and happiness.’
He shrugged. ‘Great people. Food was good. Wine was amazing. Sounds like a pretty good combination for any party to me.’
‘The food was better than good. It was splendid and I have several recipes tucked away in my trusty clutch bag. The wine was outstanding—as you predicted. Including the pink champagne from Chateau Morel, which was an inspired choice. And you’re missing the point. This is not a dinner party or Christmas lunch or a birthday celebration or some other family meal. No. We’re all here today to celebrate the love Jean Baptiste and Nicole have for one another.’
Almost as the words left her lips, the bride and groom slipped from their chairs and kissed lovingly under the lanterns to a great cheer before strolling down the table chatting to their guests.
‘They are a lovely couple with such great hopes for the future. The future you...’ she prodded him in the chest to get her point across ‘...are a big part of. You promised these two people an awful lot, Mr Bigshot. You had better deliver.’
‘Don’t you mean we—’ he prodded her in the arm right back ‘—had better deliver? My best customer. Remember that?’
‘How could I forget? I keep telling you that I’m still thinking about it, and yet you have reminded everybody several times of the fact that the heir to the Elwood name is on the case. I was starting to get nervous about my big build-up until I tasted the wine.’ She sniffed. ‘Not nervous now at all. It’s a great choice. Brilliant. I wouldn’t be ashamed to serve that wine to any of my guests; I’ll give you that. But that still doesn’t mean that I’ll sign up with you. Not yet.’
Rick straightened his back and flicked off a small dry leaf from the jacket of his suit. ‘Am I good? Or am I good?’ he asked with a smile.
‘If the other nine new generation winemakers are like this couple...then you’re good.’
Rick responded by cupping one hand arou
nd his ear and leaning closer. ‘Would you mind saying that again? I couldn’t quite make it out.’
‘I said that your scouting team have identified a suitable wine for the shelves of RB Wines. Congratulations.’
‘Ah. Was that it? Thank you, kind lady.’
Then he snorted and pushed both hands deep into his trouser pockets. ‘They’re a great couple who have actually taken time to get to know each other. Which means that they are going into this marriage with their eyes wide open. Good luck to them.’
‘Aha. I see,’ she replied, her gaze still enjoying the happy scene on the patio. ‘Things are beginning to become a little clearer. Do I detect a hint of personal experience there, Mr Burgess?’ She laughed. Then looked back over her shoulder into Rick’s face, and her smile was wiped away as a flash of regret and pain flicked across his eyes before he realised that she was watching him.
‘My one and only engagement. Las Vegas. Four years ago. I’d been with Amy for six months and there wasn’t an inch of that woman’s body that I didn’t know on a daily basis.’
Saskia groaned and lifted her hands to cover her ears. ‘Oh, please stop. No details. I’ve just eaten.’
‘Honest and open, right?’ he replied and tugged her hands away. ‘As I was saying. Six months. I thought I knew Amy. She was a sports journalist. Smart, funny, we both knew the same people and moved in the same crowd. Best of all, Amy was a total adrenalin junkie and loved going for the rush in extreme sports just as much as I did. Brilliant skier.’
‘I’m waiting for the but.’
‘We’d been to an Elvis wedding chapel ceremony with two Canyon climbers and in the spirit of the occasion and after several bottles of actually quite good champagne, I had a moment of weakness and decided that maybe getting married was not such a bad idea after all. It was a brave decision. The but came the day after our happy engagement when she cancelled a white water rafting trip because her parents had just sent her the latest property lists for her home town in the Midwest. Apparently they couldn’t wait for us to relocate so they could be close to their future unborn grandchildren.’
Blame It on the Champagne Page 10
