The Chocolate Lovers' Diet

by Carole Matthews

  ‘Looks like you’re going to be the next single girl to get married,’ Crush says. ‘Congratulations.’

  He kisses me to the sound of more raucous cheers and applause. I let the bouquet fall to the floor and sink into his embrace. Maybe today isn’t turning out too bad after all.

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  ‘Your husband punched me on the chin,’ Jacob said, clearly affronted.

  ‘He did?’ Chantal frowned.

  Rubbing at his jaw, Jacob asked, ‘Does Ted know the exact nature of our friendship?’

  She shook her head. ‘He knows that we’ve been intimate, that’s all. Our relationship is on such shaky ground that I’d rather not come clean about everything.’ Chantal gave him a wry smile. ‘I’d like to keep secret the fact that our liaison started out as a business arrangement.’

  Jacob had come to find her and had hustled her into the small, tucked-away lounge that had come in so useful once again. They were sitting on a sofa which was too floral to be tasteful. Jacob turned to face her. There was an angry red mark and a burgeoning bruise where, she assumed, the blow had connected. Even now, after all that had happened, there was still the temptation to kiss it better.

  ‘He said something about a baby, Chantal.’ Jacob fixed his eyes on hers, holding her with his steady gaze. ‘He said something about it being mine.’

  Chantal sighed. ‘I didn’t want you to find out like this.’

  Her friend looked taken aback. ‘Is it true?’

  Spreading her hands across her stomach, she smiled. ‘This isn’t just down to an excess of chocolate, Jacob. I’m pregnant.’

  ‘I could tell that you’d put a little weight on,’ he said, ‘when we were doing the fittings for the bridesmaids’ dresses. But I thought it was down to . . .’

  ‘Chocolate,’ she said with a wry grin.

  Jacob laughed. ‘You guys do eat quite a lot of it.’

  It had been a long day. Her legs and her head ached. All she wanted to do now was go to her room and sink into the tub.

  ‘And is it mine?’ he said. ‘I thought we were . . . careful.’

  ‘We were,’ she assured him. They’d used condoms every time they’d arranged to meet – a requirement of Jacob’s job, she guessed – but sometimes rather hurriedly, and those things were never 100 per cent foolproof. Until she knew for sure, there’d always be an element of doubt. ‘I really want this baby to be Ted’s. I hope that we can get back together and raise this baby as a family. But the truth is, I don’t know, Jacob. I won’t know until after the baby’s born.’

  ‘I’d be a great dad,’ he told her. ‘The thought of this doesn’t phase me at all, Chantal.’

  ‘Well, it does me,’ she said.

  ‘If it is my baby, I’d like to be closely involved in bringing the child up.’

  ‘And I’d like that too,’ Chantal said, giving his hand a squeeze. ‘You’ve been such a good friend to me, Jacob. You came along at a time when I was feeling very low and unloved. In a strange way, our time together really helped me to put things in perspective.’

  Jacob smiled. ‘I knew I was more than just a cheap shag to you.’

  Chantal laughed. ‘You were never, ever a cheap shag, Jacob.’

  ‘We could make a go of a relationship together, Chantal. We have fun together, there’s certainly chemistry. And you’ve helped me to turn my life around. I’ll always be grateful for that.’

  ‘Oh, Jacob,’ she said. ‘You’d be a very easy person to love. But, despite all of my stupid behaviour in the past, I still love my husband very much and I’m praying that fate will give me a decent break for once and prove that my Ted is the father of this child – and that he’ll want the baby and that he’ll want me. I’m hoping against hope that we’ll be able to get back together.’

  ‘If that’s what you really want, then I hope that you do too,’ Jacob said.

  All she had to do was convince her husband that he felt the same.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Autumn rinsed the soap from her face and regarded herself in the mirror. The entire afternoon and evening had passed and she’d hardly thought about her brother at all until now. True, she’d had other distractions to keep her occupied – but it had to be viewed as a step in the right direction. Perhaps she should have called Richard and let him know how the drugs drop had gone, but she felt like letting him stew. He hadn’t thought twice about putting her in danger and she’d stupidly agreed to it. No, she wouldn’t phone him until tomorrow. Let him worry about her for once.

  She hung up her bridesmaid’s dress and pulled on the filmy slip of a nightdress that she’d bought for tonight. It was nice to have someone she could dress up and be sexy for. That had been missing from her life for far too long. She’d been so relieved when Addison had turned up today as she’d feared that it was all over between them – and she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had walked away. Her focus had been all wrong, but now that would change.

  With one thing and another, it had been an exhausting day and now she was looking forward to nothing more than curling up against her boyfriend. Autumn fluffed up her hair and, smiling to herself, went back into the bedroom.

  Addison was sitting on the sofa. His eyes were closed and his head was resting back. He looked all in too. He’d taken his jacket off. The neck of his shirt had been loosened and the cuffs turned back. His lips were full and luscious. His black skin flawless. He had eyelashes that most women would kill for. She thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. There was no way she was going to let this one slip through her fingers.

  ‘You didn’t need to wait for me,’ she said softly. ‘You should have got undressed and slid into bed.’

  ‘I have something to do first,’ he replied. Then she noticed that there were two glasses of champagne bubbling away in front of him on the coffee-table. Autumn didn’t think she’d ever drunk so much in one single day – it was a miracle that she was still standing. She supposed one last glass wouldn’t hurt. Tomorrow was soon enough to go back onto the herbal tea.

  ‘Come and sit down next to me.’ Addison patted the sofa beside him.

  When she sat down, he turned and faced her. ‘I think I may have left you in some doubt about my intentions towards you earlier,’ he said.

  Autumn gave him a puzzled look, but before she could say anything further, her boyfriend had slipped off the sofa and was down on one knee in front of her.

  ‘Autumn Fielding,’ he said, ‘would you do me the very great honour of marrying me?’ He opened his hand and there was an enormous solitaire diamond ring in his palm.

  Autumn was sure she recognised it. ‘Addison?’

  Her boyfriend shrugged. ‘Lucy loaned it to me,’ he confessed. ‘We can go out and buy one of your own choosing just as soon as you say yes.’

  Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Yes.’

  Addison slipped Lucy’s engagement ring onto her finger. ‘That means it’s official,’ he told her. ‘No wriggling out of it now, no matter what reaction we get from parents, relations, brothers.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ she agreed. ‘From now on, what you and I both want is the most important thing.’

  Addison came and sat next to her again. He handed her a glass of champagne. ‘To us,’ he said.

  He clinked his glass against hers.

  ‘To us,’ Autumn said. ‘Just us.’

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Chantal had searched the hotel looking for Ted and she wondered, for a moment, whether he’d had enough and high-tailed it back to Richmond for the night. She was just about to give up and retire to her room when she spotted her husband sitting outside on the stone steps overlooking the moonlit Manor gardens.

  Wishing she had a warm coat with her, Chantal stepped out into the cold night air. Lucy’s wedding was all but over now. Looking back through the windows, she could see the last few stragglers staggering round the dance floor as the hackneyed strains of Bryan Adams singing ‘I Do It For You’ d
rifted out to her. On the terrace, Chantal picked her way slowly across the uneven paving, trying not to turn her ankle. Stopping herself from shivering in the process was proving more difficult. She was right behind Ted before he heard her approaching.

  ‘Hi,’ he said flatly, as he glanced over his shoulder at her.

  ‘Lost in thought?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Ted said, and resumed staring out into the blackness.

  Chantal sat down next to him, heedless of the fact that the soft green and yellow lichens covering the steps might well stain her bridesmaid’s dress. The day was done, she’d have no more use for it now. Her struggle not to shiver gave out and a chill ran through her. ‘It’s cold.’

  ‘You came out without a coat,’ Ted noted. Then he sighed and slipped his jacket off and draped it round her shoulders.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Now you’ll be cold.’ So she scooted along the step and snuggled up next to him.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Ted slipped his arm round her shoulders. The weight and warmth of him against her felt good.

  A fitful breeze buffeted wisps of cloud across the moon. The tips of the bare branches of the trees glistened with silvery light.

  ‘Thank you for coming today,’ Chantal said. ‘It meant a lot to me.’

  Her husband laughed, but without humour. ‘That was some wedding,’ he said with a forced chuckle.

  ‘Lucy will be okay,’ she said. ‘She’s remarkably resilient. I’m sure she’ll be able to move on.’

  ‘Looks as if she already has,’ Ted observed. ‘Last I saw of her, she was entwined round some other man on the dance floor.’

  ‘That’s her boss,’ Chantal explained. ‘Long story.’

  ‘Do all of you guys have an entourage of men waiting in the wings?’

  ‘It’s not like that.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can ever stop thinking about the other men that you’ve been with, Chantal,’ her husband admitted frankly. ‘How many more of them am I just going to “bump into” like I did today?’

  ‘There’ll be no one else, I’m sure,’ she promised. ‘I’m a one-guy woman from now on. If you’ll give me another chance.’

  ‘And what about the women I’ve seen?’

  ‘I can forgive you for that,’ she assured him. ‘I can see your reasons.’

  ‘What about Stacey? She’s going to be the mother of my child. I can’t simply abandon her. If you and I stay together, she’ll inevitably be a part of our lives. Could you handle that?’

  ‘I could try. I could try my hardest.’

  Ted shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Do you think we could make it?’

  ‘I hope so, Ted,’ she said. ‘If we split now, what would we do? Try to make a go of things alone, or maybe try our luck with new partners. All we’d do is swap one set of difficulties for another. We have such a lot going for us, we have history and we have a better foundation than most people.’ Even though they’d recently given that foundation a good shaking, she was sure it would hold fast, given the chance. ‘Let’s not waste that. Besides, I still love you. I always have.’

  ‘And I love you.’ Her husband pulled her close and her head nestled into the warm curve of his neck. ‘So where do we go from here?’

  ‘I need to go to my room,’ Chantal said wearily. ‘I’m pooped and I need to hit the sack.’

  ‘Is there space in your room for an overnight guest?’

  ‘There sure is.’

  Ted turned to her and covered her mouth with hot, searching kisses. ‘You’re looking very sexy,’ he whispered. ‘Very womanly. Can you make love when you’re pregnant?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Chantal answered honestly. ‘I’ve been deliberately avoiding all of the pregnancy “How To” books.’ The less information she had about the technicalities of childbirth, the happier she was. ‘But I guess there’s nothing to stop us giving it a try.’ She smiled hesitantly. ‘If that’s what you want.’

  ‘Maybe we should do just that,’ her husband said, and he helped her to her feet. ‘I want to look after you now. Will you let me?’

  She nodded, suddenly feeling quite tearful. Perhaps it was her erratic hormones. All that she ever wanted was for her husband to love her, and it looked as if she’d finally got what she most desired.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  ‘I should carry you over the threshold, Gorgeous,’ Crush says as we approach my room hand-in-hand.

  ‘I know it’s my wedding day,’ I say. ‘But I’m not actually married.’

  ‘Indulge me,’ he says with a grin. Before I can respond, he sweeps me up into his strong arms. I lace my fingers around his neck and he kisses me deeply. My head spins and it gives me a better rush than all the champagne I’ve knocked back today. This is as romantic as I always hoped it would be – even if the circumstances aren’t quite as I envisaged.

  Crush dips while I put the keycard in and then, very manfully, kicks the door open. I’m glad I tidied up this morning as at least the room now looks presentable – even if it isn’t the Honeymoon Suite.

  Aiden sets me down on my feet. ‘I think we should get you out of those chocolate-coated clothes right away,’ he says with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Before you catch your death of cold.’

  ‘You don’t catch a cold from chocolate,’ I remind him. ‘In fact, it’s a well-known cure for the common cold.’ With the amount I’ve eaten today, I probably won’t catch a cold for another five years or more.

  ‘Is that right?’ There’s a hunger in his expression that I can’t wait to sate. ‘Maybe we ought to err on the side of caution. Just in case.’

  He starts with my tiara, taking it from my head and placing it carefully on the dressing-table. Then he sets to work on my veil, carefully teasing out all of the clips and pins which Darren the hairdresser has rammed into my head to hold it there. I think it would have been quicker to spot-weld it in place. Either way, this thing wasn’t going to move, even in a force nine gale. Darren clearly imagined that all of my troubles today would be weather-related. Crush is unphased by my hairdresser’s over-engineering. He meticulously and tenderly unpins me as if he has all the time in the world. I know this sounds a bit sad, but I’m getting turned on already. Just as I’m about ready to risk losing parts of my scalp and rip the thing off my head, Crush takes out the last pin. He carefully lays the veil over a conveniently-placed chair. I wonder if he’s had much experience of undressing brides as he’s making an expert job of it.

  ‘I could do this myself,’ I tell him, meaning, ‘I’m in a bit of a rush to jump your bones, so get a move on!’

  ‘I’ve waited a long time to do this, Gorgeous. I’m going to enjoy it.’ He takes the pins out of my hair too, until it’s free once more. Then I do that porn-Librarian move and shake it loose. I never really bought into that cheesy old stereotype thing, but believe me, it feels very horny. Aiden smiles his appreciation. ‘You are one sexy lady, Lucy Lombard.’

  Then Crush moves behind me. He covers the back of my neck and shoulders with hot kisses, slipping the straps from my gown – my gown that looks as if Jackson Pollock has had a chocolate frenzy on the front. Maybe if I was an artist I could use it as a statement about the consumerism associated with the modern wedding – something like that. Instead, I’m a woman in love and I can’t wait to get the damn thing off me.

  There are hundreds of tiny buttons all down the back and, I kid you not, he takes about ten minutes to undo each one as he kisses and nibbles every part of my back as it is bared. I’ve gone past the point of being aroused and am now in a state of complete torture. I want to grab him, throw him to the bed and have my wicked way with him. I’ve no idea how he’s showing such restraint.

  When Mr Aiden Holby finally lets my dress fall to the floor, at this point I’m really glad that I invested in some knockout underwear. His hands skim over my basque, my suspenders, my stockings. Now we’re both breathing heavily, but slowly he unhooks my stockings. I slip off my shoes and inch by inch, he
rolls the silky fabric down my legs, stroking them as he does so. When he unhooks my basque and I’m finally standing naked before him, I don’t feel in the slightest bit shy. I feel empowered, wanton and more than a little hot.

  My new love drinks me in. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ Crush says.

  This is the point where, usually, someone would crash through the door with bad news, or the ceiling would fall in or I’d trip over an inopportunely placed pouffe, breaking a limb, or a water main in the hotel would burst and a million gallons of water would come pouring down on my head. But I realise that my luck has changed as nothing happens. I take a deep breath. Nothing whatsoever. And I know that all is going to be well from now on.

  I wiggle my eyebrows at Crush. ‘Now it’s your turn.’

  And I’d really like to say that I go for the slow burn too, but I don’t. I throw myself onto Aiden who starts to kick off his shoes and tug at his socks all at once – which I’m pleased about because you don’t want the first image of your lover to be him standing there in nothing but his shoes and socks. While he does that, he tries to shrug out of his jacket at the same time. I tear at the buttons of his shirt and yank at the buckle of his belt. My disrobing of him might not be as seductive, but it sure is fun.

  My boyfriend would make a great quick-change artist as, within seconds, he’s naked with a pile of crumpled clothes at his feet. I might not be a great judge of people, but taking in the picture before me, I’d certainly say that Crush is as ready for this as I am.

  He lifts me into his arms again and, both of us giggling like loons, spins me round wildly until I’m shrieking for mercy. Then he makes a dive for the bed and we crash-land all tangled together. Crush pins my arms above my head, just as he did that day on the forest floor at the paint-balling extravaganza, the day that I started to wonder how I was going to live without him.

  ‘I love you, Gorgeous,’ he says.

  I don’t think of my wedding that never was, of the pain of Marcus jilting me, nor that my parents are getting down to it right now in the room that I should have been sharing with my husband as I started out on my married life. I think of none of that. I bask in the here and now, looking up at the wonderful man above me, and know what it is to feel true happiness. Instead of trying to express all that, I simply smile and say, ‘I love you too.’