by Daisy James
Millie sipped the brandy and felt the warmth trickle down into her chest, calming her raging emotions enough for her to utter, ‘He ditched me.’
‘What do you mean, he ditched you?’
‘After we finished our meal, he left to take a call and never came back.’
‘He what?!’
Millie met Lottie’s eyes and the pity she saw reflected there sent tears to her own. But she grabbed on to her emotions – she was determined not to cry until she was alone in her studio where no one could see her. After all, it was only a date with a guy she hardly knew. He was not Luke – the man she had thought she was going to marry! But Lottie didn’t know any of this so she dragged up every ounce of courage she could and forced a smile on her lips.
‘Perhaps his call was an emergency.’ muttered Millie.
‘But he should have told you!’
‘Maybe.’
‘Wait until I…’
Thankfully, Millie didn’t have to hear how Lottie planned to punish Marc for his ungentlemanly behaviour as Clavie had arrived at the door, his eyes searching the room for his client.
‘See you later, Lottie.’
‘Hang on. I’ll ask Andy if I can come with you. You shouldn’t be alone tonight after what’s happened.’
‘Oh, no, Lottie, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine. It’s not as though Marc and I are an item or anything. It was just two people having dinner. Look, I promise to come down for breakfast in the morning and we can chat about what happened at our leisure.’
‘Well, if you’re sure…’ Lottie’s ski-slope nose crinkled in doubt.
‘I’m sure. Thanks for the brandy. It was exactly what I needed. Bye.’
Millie gave Lottie a quick hug, and dashed outside to the taxi. The storm had passed but the rain was still lashing down with abandon on the town’s rooftops. She slid into the back seat and Clavie, who probably possessed some kind of sixth sense, drove quickly and in silence up the hill towards the villa. As she had expected, he stopped at the bottom of the driveway.
‘Sorry, Millie.’
‘It’s okay, Clavie. I’ll be fine. Thanks.’
She shoved a few notes into his hand, anxious to escape into her thoughts. She watched the red tail lights disappeared and turned to make her way up the drive. She had taken only a couple of paces when the full blast of her predicament engulfed her senses and she burst into huge racking sobs. Her tears mingled with the raindrops that were falling like glass spears onto the wide-brimmed foliage above her head, making her feel even worse. She scrambled around in her bag for a tissue, but within seconds it was a sodden mess of paper.
A parrot launched itself from the treetops and she screamed, but the sound was swallowed into the shadows and extinguished. She hurled herself up the incline, gulping in mouthfuls of soup-like air. The humidity and overwhelming intensity of nature’s bounty threatened to overwhelm her. A cathedral of arboreal magnificence in the daylight it might be, but under the mantle of darkness it had morphed into a macabre pantomime of horrors in whose wings danced terror and fear. Was there a brigade of nocturnal animals roaming the forest waiting to pounce on her and maul her to death?
Yet the birds continued to twitter their night-time sonata, unaware of the panic burgeoning in their midst, and by the time she reached the courtyard her thoughts had spiralled into another sphere of enquiry.
Why had Marc abandoned her at the restaurant? What had she ever done to him to deserve such inconsiderate treatment?
None of it made any sense and no matter which way she framed the questions, the treasure trove of answers was empty. And was it any wonder? The whole evening had been a catalogue of mysteries and strange behaviour. First Dylan acting as though nothing had happened despite her running after the jeep, shaking her hands in the air like a demented cheerleader, when he screeched away with his stash of worthless cocoa pods. Then Marc vanishing into thin air when all he had to do was tell her he wasn’t interested in a second date!
Millie was so absorbed in chasing her confusion down blind alleyways that she didn’t hear the purr of an engine approach her from behind and had she been of a more nervous disposition she would have needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation when a car horn blasted from two feet away.
‘Hey, Princess Cupcake! Need a warm fire and a nightcap?’
Millie had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life. She rushed towards Tim’s Roadster and jumped into the passenger seat. ‘Oh, Zach, you have no idea how pleased I am to see you,’ and she promptly burst into tears.
Zach remained silent during the five minutes it took to drive to his lodge in the grounds of the plantation. They lurched and leapt along the deep furrows of the earthen track like an excitable kangaroo, before finally skirting a fringe of tropical forest crammed with a brigade of banana trees. An ivory moon appeared from behind the clouds and bathed the landscape in a mottled aura. It looked like a scene staged for a movie, but Millie felt as though she had landed a role in the horror genre rather than the romance genre.
Zach’s home could best be described as an old steamer boat moored against a dense arboreal backdrop. A wraparound wooden veranda gave the impression of a ship’s gangways, which afforded a spectacular outlook over the whole estate. Clad in a mantle of vapour, the topography of the grounds had been obscured, but in the distance the peaks of the Pitons reared majestically above the sea, now calm and smooth like a piece of crumpled black tinfoil. Any film director would be delighted at the cinematography of the setting. It was Oscar-winning.
‘Come on. Let’s get you warmed up. And before you ask, Lottie called me. She was worried about you. She also told me what happened with Marc so you don’t have to rehash any of the sorry tale if you don’t want to.’
A concerto of excited barking sprang from behind the door as Zach grappled with the lock.
‘Okay, Binks, behave. We have a visitor.’
Zach grabbed the dog’s collar and fondled his silky ears before leading him to his tartan-lined basket next to the fireplace and settling him down with a reassuring pat and a dog biscuit from his pocket. He crossed to the wood-burning stove, chucked a couple of logs from the wire basket inside and lit a fire – just being with Zach had calmed her serrated nerves and soothed her soul. How did he do that?
‘Grab a seat and I’ll make us some coffee.’
Millie did as she was told and watched Zach open one of the cupboards in search of a jar of coffee. Even in Étienne’s kitchen she had not met with such meticulous organization. She wasn’t surprised to see an array of jars of varying exoticness – spices, herbs, flavoured salts. It was the fact that every last label faced the front that shocked her – and she had come across her share of obsessive chefs. It was like a supermodel’s closet – winter, spring, summer, each item colour coordinated with handbag and shoes. She couldn’t resist further investigation.
‘Are these in alphabetical order?’
Zach removed the spice jar from her hand, returned it to its rightful place, and shooed her off into the sitting room.
‘Go and sit next to the fire and keep Binks company.’
Whilst Zach clattered around the tiny kitchen making coffee, Millie took the opportunity to survey the lounge area. Like the kitchen, the room was so tidy it squeaked. A display of intricately carved objects marched across the shelves above the fireplace and colourful, framed local artwork hung on the walls. A pair of high-tech binoculars lounging on the windowsill was the only item that seemed out of place.
To the left of the stove stood a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, its occupants inserted in meticulous descending order. Millie knew you could glean a great deal about a person from their reading material and was curious to know what type of books Zach preferred. Caring for Cocoa? Tropical Forest Management Techniques? The Art of Polite Conversation?
The warmth of the fire began to weave ribbons of comfort around her limbs and seep into her bones. The crackling of the logs and the rhythmic, flickering flames were mesmer
izing. She stared unblinking into its depths as tiny tumbles of ash dribbled from the grate to the hearth like silver confetti. She relaxed into the crumpled leather sofa – one of a pair perfectly placed at right angles to the burner, separated by a pale blue, geometric-patterned rug more befitting a New York loft than a Caribbean lodge. Millie couldn’t prevent a giggle from escaping her lips.
‘What?’ asked Zach, handing her a mug laced with a tot of rum.
‘It’s just that I expected the floor coverings to be animal skins – you know, with a bear or a tiger’s head? But perhaps not – that would have interfered with the smooth lines of the pared-back “hunter’s paradise” theme you’re working here.’
‘Just because I work outdoors doesn’t mean I have to live in a scuzzy hut! As a matter of fact, Messy Millie, I can’t stand the domestic turmoil you seem to thrive in. I need to know where everything is. It’s good karma to be organized – it frees up brain space for the important things in life.’
‘And what are they?’ Millie realized she knew very little about the man who had prepared freshly ground coffee like a professional alchemist. He continually surprised her – she’d expected instant Nescafé. Now that she had the time to study him in his home environment she saw how attractive he was with his ebony hair, neatly teased into spikes, his jawline smooth and stubble free, and the thickest of liquorice-coloured eyelashes
‘Well, ensuring the smooth running of the estate for a start. Nature needs to be constantly tamed otherwise chaos will reign. It’s a never-ending task – there’s always something to do. Usually I’m out of the door at six a.m. and not back until dusk.’
‘So have you always worked in estate management?’ Millie asked, sipping her coffee, anxious to avoid the elephant in the room for as long as possible.
‘I love working outdoors. When I was growing up I spent every waking hour with my brother down at the local beck, damming up the stream with rocks and branches – proper pair of little beavers we were. I could name every species of bird and every variety of plant before I was eight years old. But when I was ten Mum and Dad moved to London so Dad could take up a management position at one of the largest international law firms in the capital.’
Millie saw Zach’s jaw tighten and his eyes drop, his face a mask belying the intensity of his pain. ‘It must have been tough to leave the countryside for the urban sprawl of London. Leaving all your friends behind.’ Something she totally understood.
‘It was particularly hard on Mum at first. But Dad’s new job paid well. We lived in a large Victorian terrace in Pimlico and his firm subsidized my and my brother Callum’s school fees. What we lost in freedom we gained in academic excellence. Mum settled eventually, though. She adored the West End theatres, even landed a few regular roles as an extra in a couple of hospital dramas and sitcoms. But she worked mainly as a legal secretary and later on as a paralegal.’
‘And are your parents still in London?’
‘Dad is. With his new girlfriend. One of the solicitors in his law firm – twenty years his junior. Mum was devastated when she found out about his infidelity, but her vanity wouldn’t allow her to acquire the role of the pitied, scorned partner. So she moved back to rural Oxfordshire.’ Zach swallowed the last sip of coffee and grimaced at the bitter taste.
‘So have you worked for Tim and Claudia since university?’ Millie pressed, wondering if his answer would provide an insight into his obsessive craving for neatness, his compelling need for order in all aspects of his life.
‘Yes. I leapt at the chance when the position of estate manager at their Cotswolds manor house became vacant. Spending every working day in the fresh air is as close to career satisfaction as you can get. When Claudia told me about their plans to offer archery classes as well as quad bike and Segway trekking to the Cotswold Cookery School students, it was a done deal.’
‘Do you think they’ll extend the same activities to the Paradise Cookery School students?’
‘Definitely. In fact, I plan to offer a couple of taster sessions on the quad bikes to the guys whilst the girls enjoy the Chocolate & Confetti course next week. Claudia and Tim are hoping the plantation will take off as wedding venue too.’
‘Well, it’s certainly a fairy-tale setting.’
‘I thought you’d say that. Yes, there’s obviously an abundance of sunshine, swaying palm trees, golden beaches and as much rum punch as you can sail a yacht in. It is a paradise, but believe it or not, Little Miss Sunshine, some people adore the Cotswolds or the Lake District or the Scottish Highlands. Those are their dream wedding locations – some couples even want to get hitched in a yurt under a canopy of stars. It’s romantic. Heard of that concept?’
‘Of course I’ve heard of romance! Actually, the French are masters of romance and love!’
Zach held her eyes and her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. They had arrived at the point in their conversation where she spilled out the whole sorry story, not only of her date with Marc, but what had happened with Luke. Zach had been open and honest about his life whilst they sheltered in the little wooden hut on the slopes of the Pitons, but she had chickened out. She couldn’t do that again.
In fact, she didn’t want to. She was looking forward to sharing her past with him – warts and all. She had never experienced such a barrage of intense emotion as she was experiencing at that moment, not with Luke or anyone else before him, and she felt alive for the first time in years. She curled her legs under her bottom, hugged her mug to her chest and launched into an abridged version of the shambles she had made of her life to date.
‘The reason I was so upset about Marc abandoning me at the restaurant was because it’s not the first time I’ve been summarily ditched. It felt like history was repeating itself, but of course, my date with Marc was nothing like what happened with Luke.’
She paused as the whole episode came rushing back at her with a vengeance.
‘Six months ago, at the beginning of April, my boyfriend, sorry, my soon-to-be fiancé, broke off our engagement. Oh, he didn’t break the news face to face or in a phone call, or even by text. No, he just didn’t turn up at our engagement party so I had to endure the humiliation of being dumped in front of all our friends and family. I didn’t see it coming and was devastated. When I eventually managed to speak to him to ask him why, he told me that he had met someone else.’
Millie gulped down a mouthful of coffee and stared into the embers of the wood-burning stove. She couldn’t look at Zach, didn’t want to see the pity on his face.
‘It was a nightmare because we co-managed a Michelin-starred restaurant in Oxford. At first I thought that he should be the one to leave. After all, it had been his choice to cheat on me and throw our future away. But when I discovered the identity of the other woman, there was no way I could stay – not at the restaurant, not even in Oxford.’
‘Why not?’
Millie didn’t hear Zach’s question. She had already been transported back to that harrowing time after her world had ground to a halt.
‘Of course, I shared everything with my best friend Frankie, everything. She was so supportive, so angry with Luke. It was Frankie who found out who his new girlfriend was, and I honestly think she was more shocked and horrified than I was.’
She paused, gathering her courage to deliver the final sentence, the sentence that until now she had only uttered to her mother and Jen. Even Poppy thought Luke had run off with some random girl.
‘Luke had been having an affair with Frankie’s mother for six months. They are expecting their first child in January.’
There it was: a neat summary of her life in a few carefully chosen words but surprisingly without the expected gush of self-indulgent tears. Memories of the day Frankie had appeared on her doorstep, her face as grey as overworked pastry, still haunted her dreams. Until she had arrived in St Lucia, she frequently woke up with damp cheeks – the physical evidence of her continued distress – with the image of Luke still crisp in her mind�
��s eye in the moments of consciousness between sleep and waking.
She realized Zach had spoken. ‘Sorry?’
At last she found the courage to meet Zach’s eyes and saw within them an unfathomable depth. A twist of something stirred within her chest as he held her gaze. She knew he hadn’t judged her, knew that what had happened to her in Oxford, and in the restaurant in Soufrière, hadn’t altered his opinion of her one iota. For all his tetchiness, she experienced a surprisingly strong emotional attachment to Zach.
‘So you ran away to London?’ he repeated, getting up from the floor and taking a seat next to her on the sofa, his proximity sending spasms of electricity into her fingertips like errant fireworks.
‘Yes. It seemed like a good idea at the time,’ she whispered.
‘Well, if you hadn’t, I doubt you would have ended up here in the Caribbean, working for a celebrated chef, visiting tropical rainforests and spectacular waterfalls, discovering new recipes and meeting fabulous people. None of this would have happened if you were still with Luke in Oxford, would it?’
‘No.’
‘So it’s a win-win situation. You got to find out what sort of person you almost ended up marrying as well as expanding your culinary and geographical horizons. Not to mention making some great new friends.’
Zach’s mouth was inches away from hers and she daren’t move a millimetre. Every nerve ending zinged with excitement and her inner voice screamed, ‘Kiss me!’ He must have heard, or maybe she had said it out loud, because the next minute his lips were on hers and she tumbled into the most exquisite maelstrom of desire she could remember.
Chapter Seventeen
Millie woke and took a couple of moments to explore her senses. Where was she? Panic ricocheted around her body as the events of the previous evening came screaming back to her – the disastrous date with Marc, her sprint through the rain after being abandoned, the sympathy on Lottie’s face, being rescued by a knight in a shiny red Roadster. A spasm of electricity shot through her veins as she remembered exactly where she was, the intimate details of the conversation she’d had with Zach over a rum-laced coffee, and then… Oh, God! The kiss! But was that part of her fuzzy recollections a dream? No way! She could still feel the remnants of the most delicious sensation on her lips and in her heart.
