He raised his eyebrows with a wicked smile.
‘No, stop. Don’t go there. I really don’t want to know. Enough.’
‘See you later then.’ He spoke like a grudging youth and started walking the last flight of steps.
‘Later. An hour at least.’
‘I can’t wait,’ came a sunnier voice echoing down the stairwell.
She dumped her bag in her room, which looked cosy and welcoming. It was nice to be back. Then she headed straight back down to the kitchen to crack on. She was also looking forward to a little free time later with Joe.
She made a mix for a Victoria sponge, which would also double up for some cup-cakes. And she decided to make cookies with chocolate chips and some chocolate orange brownies. That was all smelling gorgeous by the time the hour was up, some still in the oven, and some cooling on metal racks. She’d better think of something savoury too, so mixed up some shortcrust pastry in her Magimix and began rolling it out on the stainless-steel surface, sprinkling it liberally with flour. She’d bake them blind while the oven was still hot and then fill them for quiches in the morning. She’d have to be up early to make a fresh batch of scones anyhow. So she might be able to make a quick getaway and catch up with Joe. Hmn, his room or hers? Didn’t matter one iota, just being together without a flip-up camp bed and parents the other side of the wall would be great.
Okay, then, focus back on the baking, girl. She cut the dough into three and rolled out the first, carefully filling the flan dish, making sure all the fluted edges were neat to the sides. She had the radio set to the Classics channel and hummed along to some chilled piano music. She was just rolling out the second sheet of pastry when Joe appeared with a wide grin.
‘Hi, sexy.’ Nothing like being subtle.
‘Hello, you.’ She glanced at the wall clock. He had made the hour, just.
‘I’ve just got to finish these pastry cases,’ she nodded her head at the rolled-out dough, ‘But I’ll not be too long. You can make yourself useful and make us a cup of tea if you like.’
‘Yes, m’lady.’ He smiled as he went to fill the kettle, finding mugs and tea bags.
He was great, willing to help, though she’d never let him loose on the actual cooking. She smiled watching him. She was rolling out quiche number three when he passed her a mug of steaming tea. ‘Thanks.’ They’d take about fifteen minutes to get a golden bake. She set the timer and popped them in the big oven, taking out the last of the brownies.
‘Hmn, what can we do while we wait for those to cook?’ He had that naughty look plastered on his face again. ‘Do you want a hand clearing up?’ He came close, dabbed a hand into the flour on the surface and wiped it across the bridge of her nose.
Hmn, two could play at that game. She took a big swipe along the same surface and smudged two streaks across his sexy stubbled cheeks. He looked a little like an American Indian from cowboy films; he had the dark hair, just needed it a bit longer.
‘Right then.’ He swiped his two forefingers along a deep ridge of flour and smudged her nose again and added some across her lips.
‘This means war.’ Her hand dug into the flour bag. She took a fistful and threw it smack into his face.
His eyes blinked free, and a dust cloud of flour drifted down his face, his neck, covering his shirt as he shook his face – oops, that was a little more flour than she had intended.
‘Right then, madam. That’s just taking things too far.’ He grabbed her wrists playfully, yet she could feel his underlying strength. He was smiling wickedly, leaned in against her, pressing her bottom into the work surface and began to rub his face against hers, until their lips met and parted, tasting of dusty flour and then each other. She lingered a few seconds, letting her tongue find his, then pulled back. ‘I’ve still got quiche bases in the oven.’
‘Too late for back-tracking … You’ve pushed the boundaries here, and for that you must be severely reprimanded.’ His grin was extremely naughty.
Oh, jeez. His erection was digging hard and hungry against her pelvis. Her crotch responding with an aching warmth. Surely he wasn’t suggesting …
She’d never done anything like that before in her life. No dinner-table sex, no food games nor hoisting up on the work surface like Nine and a Half Weeks, no outside excursions. No, she and Gavin had always been very straightforward with sex … and, yeah, she hated to admit it – probably downright boring.
‘Joe … you’re not thinking …’
With that he angled her legs apart with an expert knee and a wicked gleam in his eye.
Her legs felt a bit wobbly.
‘There’s no one around, Ellie.’
Well, Lord Henry might be about, she mentally corrected him, but she’d never seen him in the kitchen of an evening, ever.
‘It’s just the two of us …’ he confirmed.
His dark hazel-brown eyes were so damned gorgeous. Ooh and his hand was snaking its way up her inner thigh. The other hand was firm on her hip. She was wearing a flimsy skirt. It would be so easy.
‘But … what about health and safety? The hygiene angle? It’s the kitchen …’
He laughed out loud as he raised a gentle hand from her hip to close her mouth. ‘I’ll scrub the surface afterwards, disinfectant, the works,’ he promised. Then he moved his palm to place his lips there against hers, hot and hungry. His hand moving back firm on her hip, the other having found the line of her panties, reaching inside, his thumb finding her in just the very best spot, gliding to and fro.
OH MY GOD.
Her mind was off into spin now. No more arguments. SHE DID NOT WANT THIS TO STOP.
‘Ellie, I want you so much.’ His voice was husky, melting away the last shreds of her inhibitions.
‘Okay, okay … yes.’ Oh yes, do not stop what you are doing you sexy son-of-a-bitch.
He took hold of both her hips, placed her spread-eagled on the floured work surface, dust puffing up around them as he undid the fly on his trousers, then pulled them down, his boxers soon straddling his knees. She watched in awe and anticipation, and stayed watching as he sheathed himself and then thrust into her deeply, filling her, feeling herself tight around him. Soon finding a rhythm there was no going back from.
‘Joe!’ she gasped.
It was all he needed to send him over the edge. He thrust deeply again, filling her, taking her to places she’d never been, with his love, his passion.
‘Ellie …’ He came hot and hard inside her.
The timer went off loud and clear just as he was beginning to wilt within her. They started giggling, sweatily straddled across the work surface, dusted in flour.
‘Just in time,’ he said, deadpan.
‘I’d better go get them out, then.’
He eased out of her. ‘Shame to spoil them.’
‘Absolutely.’
24
Ellie
Life was good and sweet and sexy. September shifted into October. Leaves were falling steadily, the driveway thick with mushy piles of bronze and ochre, the bones of the trees above beginning to show. The log fire was well stocked up in the tearooms, and sales of soup and hot chocolate had soared.
There was a real sense of the seasons here at the castle, so much more than in the city, and the sense of time passing, of change.
Her relationship with Joe was everything she had hoped for, and so much more. She couldn’t remember ever being so happy, though there were still the concerns about how she would make a living over the coming months until the tearooms re-opened in the spring. Hopefully her staying on at the teashop for next year was a foregone conclusion, but she needed to reconfirm that with Lord Henry and Joe and renegotiate the lease. Joe didn’t seem to think there would be a problem, as she’d done so well turning things around.
She felt so pleased that she’d managed to make the teashop a reasonable success. The customers were saying how much they were enjoying her food, and she was getting on so much better with her staff; she really felt as if sh
e was running a good business. And it would only get better next year. She had that experience now, she could build on it. But, she needed to spend some time looking for work, anything, in the local area, and hopefully they might then also let her keep on her room in the castle.
For now, she had to focus on organising the Halloween and fireworks event for the end of the month. They would be catering for at least 250, if last year’s figures were anything to go by. Ellie had already put in an order for sausages and burgers at the local butcher’s in Kirkton, and for several fat orange pumpkins from Wendy – Ellie was going to carve them out, and have tea lights in them to make the tearooms suitably spooky. She needed bread rolls by the hundreds and masses of veggies for soups, but she could get those nearer the time, plenty of napkins, polystyrene soup cups … her mind was spinning, so she made a long list.
The days rolled on.
It was the night before the Halloween extravaganza. Deana had, earlier in the week, come up with the idea of fancy dress for the staff, to make it more fun. Ellie was trying on the all-in-one black cat outfit she’d managed to get online. It did look fairly cute, though a little too clingy in parts. Tomorrow, she’d add a flick of eyeliner at the corner of her eyes to give her a cat-like look and draw on some whiskers across her cheeks.
There was a knock at her door … ooh, bum! She hoped it wasn’t someone official or Lord Henry. It was Joe, with a very daft grin on his face as he looked her up and down, ‘Oh … I like … very sexy.’
‘Joe, you’d think I look sexy in a carrier bag at the moment.’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘True … very true. I can’t help that I’m going out with the sexiest woman in Northumberland … no, make that England … the world.’
She was having none of it, ‘Well, don’t you go getting any ideas. I’m not having this costume manhandled or sullied.’
‘Sullied … What do you take me for?’ He gave a wicked smile. ‘You make me sound like some kind of perve … But God, “sullied” – what a lovely word. I might have to turn up in a rain mac tomorrow. Actually,’ his grin got wider, ‘I have something even better up my sleeve.’
‘Get away with you.’ She gave him a playful shove. What the heck was he planning now?
‘Anyway, what are you here for?’
‘Well, that’s a nice welcome. Just came to see you, if that’s alright.’
‘I suppose,’ she joked, ‘Got any supper lined up? I’m sick of the sight of sausages.’ She’d been prepping sausages, burgers, and dipping bloody toffee apples – what a gloopy mess that was, all afternoon, she’d never even thought about her own supper tonight.
‘Shame that.’ He gave her another dirty grin. Then gave up as she gave him a stony stare. Little did he know that she was laughing inside. ‘Could stretch to a pizza from the freezer,’ he said. ‘Might even have oven chips.’
‘Sounds okay to me. Your place or mine?’
‘Well, I’m the one with the oven in my room, unless you really want to be trekking back down to the tearoom kitchen.’
‘Okay. Deal.’
‘You can keep your cat suit on, if you like.’ The mischievous look was back in his eye.
‘Enough. No. In fact, it’s coming off right now.’ And with that she started to peel the black lycra down over her shoulders.
‘Even better,’ he grinned.
‘Stop it. I can’t keep having sex.’
‘Why not?’
Why not indeed?
They managed to keep their hands off each other until later in the evening, after their pizza supper and a scary movie – very in keeping with the Halloween theme, ending up snuggled together, sated, in the four-poster ready for a good night’s sleep.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
*
Pumpkins, hot dogs, burgers. The kitchens stank of fried onions and Ellie reckoned her hair must do too – such a glamorous scent. Oh well, she didn’t have time to go and wash it. The castle doors opened in half an hour and there was still loads to do. They were serving food upstairs in the great hall (being nearer to the gardens and the fireworks display) as well as down in the tearooms. So they had to lug warming tables up the narrow stairs and get set up there too.
The teashop was looking great, she had to admit; she’d put out church candles and tea lights up high on the windowsills and behind the counter area, giving a soft, eerie glow. A couple of spooky pumpkin faces welcomed the customers at the doors. It had taken her ages to scrape them out and carve them.
Huge pots of pumpkin and sweet potato soup were simmering on the stove, and she and Doris had just split and buttered two hundred rolls, and there were more out back just in case.
She’d hardly seen Joe all day; he’d been busy with the fireworks team organising the grounds and safe spectator areas. Deana had popped in for a ‘proper’ coffee and to announce that they had now sold a hundred and ninety tickets before making any sales on the door. It had been advertised in the local press and posters in Kirkton and the area’s tourist information offices. The weather forecast was good; it was meant to be staying dry. It was going to be a busy night.
The cat suit was on, if now smelling of onions, her whiskers were drawn on and there was a smudge of pink lipstick on her nose. Doris looked fabulous dressed in a big orange pumpkin ball with green stalk hat – though Ellie realised she was going to have trouble serving and clearing the tables, the amount of space she was taking up. She’d be bouncing off the customers, and small children could well be flattened! She was grumbling on already about finding it hot in there and was looking very flushed. Nicola was in a devil’s outfit, which only just reached below her bottom. It was certainly on the sexy end of devil rather than scary.
They were just about set to go when Batman waltzed in. Tall, dark, and in a very snug suit – he obviously hadn’t bought the version for over six-foot males – revealing those all-important parts. Oh, good lord, they looked as if they’d been clingfilm-wrapped. So here was Joe. Of course, it had to be Batman, yep.
‘Thought I’d get in the spirit of the occasion.’ He grinned.
Ellie giggled, ‘I should have guessed … any chance to dress up as Batman!’
‘Of course. And I’ve been so waiting to catch up with Catwoman.’
She ignored the comment, had way too much to do. ‘All organised with the fireworks?’
‘Think so. Just about there. Got all the safety cordons in place. Are you coming up to watch?’
‘Be too busy, I think. Though I’d like to. I love fireworks. Kind of magical, aren’t they?’
‘We could have our own later.’ He moved in for a quick kiss.
‘Don’t you smudge my whiskers.’
‘I’ll keep firmly to your lips, then.’
Blimey, Doris was about and Nicola, ‘I’ve got loads to do …’
His eyes were on hers, then he leaned in against her. All the snug bits pressed close, and gave her the most tender, sexy, slow kiss.
As he pulled away, he lifted a handful of her hair, ‘God, what’s that smell?’
‘Ah, onions, I think. Sorry, I’ve been slow-frying the buggers for hours.’
‘Hmn, the delectable scent of fried onions. Right, well I suppose I’d better crack on up yonder.’
And, then, to her amazement, Dracula, in full black cloak, walked in rather breathless. ‘Joe, need you back at the fireworks area. They need a powerful torch – one of theirs has broken. Do we have one somewhere?’ The corners of his mouth were oozing red blood. ‘Evening, Ellen, how’s it going, all okay here?’ The plummy voice gave him away.
‘Lord Henry?’ Ellie felt her jaw drop.
He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was dressed in a Dracula outfit.
Joe nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sure there’ll be one in Deana’s office.’ And with that they both dashed off like action heroes. Bizarre.
Ellie and Doris just looked at each other and laughed. Ellie could never imagine anything like this happening at the insurance offi
ces back in Newcastle. And just those few months ago, she could never have imagined falling in love with a manager of a huge castle, who also happened to be a lord’s son.
Nicola was organised and ready to serve upstairs at the makeshift counter/trestle-table in the great hall. Malcolm and Derek were primed to help as ‘runners’ between the serving zones if she ran short of anything, as well as helping out generally with the event. Doris and Ellie were ready for the off in the teashop. The burgers and sausages were all cooked and keeping warm. Paper plates and napkins were stacked. Huge squeezy tubs of ketchup, mustard and brown sauce were lined up ready for battle of the burger buns. James, the young lad who helped at the castle, popped in for a mug of soup to take with him back to the gardens, where he was helping Joe. He gave her the brightest, wonky-toothed smile when she said he could have it for free.
Ellie hoped she’d make a decent profit tonight. It was the last big event until the first wedding, which was booked in the run-up to Christmas. She’d agreed to do a couple of shifts on the till at the local petrol station, just to keep some funds flowing, but the winter months were going to be tough. At least Joe had arranged, with Lord Henry’s permission, to let her stay on in her room until the wedding booking, at least. He’d said Lord Henry was fond of her and that he’d admitted he’d been impressed with her work at the tearooms – high praise from the reticent man himself. They’d have to work on getting a few more events booked, however. The winter months were definitely a work in progress.
A few customers started trailing in, and then within half an hour there seemed to be a mass invasion. The queue was never-ending. It was damned hot in her all-in-one cat suit, standing there ladling out soup and serving hotdogs, but it was all extra money in the till. She wished she hadn’t stoked the fire up so much before they’d opened now, though.
Her feet were throbbing by nine-thirty. The fireworks were over. The tearooms were emptying out. There had been a real buzz as the spectators had swarmed back in: ‘That was brilliant, Dad.’ ‘Very professional. What a great display.’ And a little girl sobbing ’cos it had all been ‘too noisy’ – a sticky sweet toffee apple had cheered her up, though.
The Cosy Teashop in the Castle Page 24