by Annie Seaton
“Um, I hear there’s a wedding here today, and I’m cooking for one hundred guests.”
He put his hand to his head again. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”
“A hangover doesn’t suit you,” she shot back as she crossed to the stove and picked up the wooden spoon. She didn’t hear him cross the room as she stirred the curried chicken. When she turned and came face-to-face with a bare chest, she lifted her eyes and tried to stay calm.
“Would you like a coffee?”
“I’d kill for one. Damn that Liam. He can put the drink away and come up roses the next morning. My head feels like it’s got little men with jackhammers inside it.”
“How about a headache tablet?” Isabella forced herself not to run her hands over that smooth chest as she took his hand and led him to the table. “Sit down and I’ll make you a strong black coffee.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” She smiled and went about her preparations as Sebastian sat there and watched her. Self-consciousness flooded through her as he took in her chef uniform. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have noticed them, but every time she moved or bent over or stretched to the high cupboards, she was aware of him watching.
Finally, he stood and pushed the chair in and mumbled something about having a shower. As soon as he’d gone, Isabella relaxed again. As much as she could, while she tried to get the image of his broad bare chest out of her mind.
Isabella supervised the setting up of the flowers in the shed and then took over organising the CWA ladies when they arrived, getting them into teams to set tables and do the last-minute food jobs like whipping cream and putting the salads together.
Finally, it was three o’clock and Helena came into the kitchen, wearing a pale-blue suit with a posy of rosebuds on her lapel.
“All okay here? Everything smells delicious.” She smiled as she looked around before she took Isabella’s arm and steered her outside. “The girls want you to come and say hello before the ceremony. I said I’d come and get you.”
Isabella followed her up the hallway, keeping half an eye out for Sebastian, but there was no sign of anyone until Helena opened the door to a huge bedroom. Lucy was pretty in pink, and Angie was wearing an oyster-coloured sheath that hugged her petite figure.
But it was Jemima who brought tears to Isabella’s eyes. She shook her head wordlessly as she looked at the beautiful woman with the huge pregnant bump. Jemima wore the full bridal gown, with the veil and the train.
She smiled at Isabella. “The first time Ned and I got married it was in a courthouse with his kindergarten teacher. I wanted him to remember today as pretty special.” She shrugged as Isabella kept staring and Gran wiped away a tear. “I guess I went a bit overboard,” Jemima said.
“No, you didn’t.” Isabella hugged her. “You are stunning.” She turned to the other three women. “You all look beautiful. I wish you all a wonderful day. And now I’ve got to get back to the kitchen.” She rushed out before she started crying. She’d never been one to get emotional at weddings or envy the bride, but seeing the happiness in that room, and sensing the solidarity and friendship between the women, left her feeling empty. She hurried back to the kitchen and picked up a wooden spoon and took out her feelings on a jar of cream.
It got worse a few minutes later when Jenny, one of the CWA ladies, called them outside. “Quick, come and see. They’re in the garden and the ceremony is about to start.” As she spoke, the sounds of violin music drifted into the kitchen.
Isabella swallowed. She didn’t want to see this, but conversely, she didn’t want to not see it. Smoothing her hands over her uniform, and tucking her loose hair into her cap, she walked to the verandah and stood behind the group of women who’d been such a help so far today.
The family was in the garden. Guests sat on chairs that were positioned in a half circle on each side of the lawn where the celebrant stood with the men. An arch loaded with blooming roses and white tulle was positioned in the middle of the grass. Ned’s children: Kelsey, Gwennie, and Ryan, stood beside him at the front, and Liam stood to the side. As Isabella’s gaze reached the end of the group, her breath caught, and she’d swear her knees literally trembled.
My God.
Sebastian looked very different from the man who she’d given coffee to this morning. His dark hair was pulled back from his face. His pale-grey suit sat snugly on his broad shoulders, and he stood tall and proud, watching his family. He was absolutely gorgeous.
Isabella put her hand to the door as a jolt of feeling slammed through her. She was going to have to be very careful where Sebastian Richards was concerned.
Tears threatened as the music increased in volume and Jemima and Angie stepped out onto the lawn. Isabella was close enough to see the expression of love on both Liam’s and Ned’s faces. She brushed away the moisture from her eyes and shook her head impatiently as she turned back to the kitchen. She was here to do a job—not get all emotional.
Later that night she retreated into cowardice. It was safer than seeing him looking like that. Besides, she was filthy and hot. Once the meal was served and the kitchen was cleaned up, she stood for a moment listening to the happy voices and the music coming from the hayshed, before she slipped out to the car and drove quietly down the road. Luckily, some of the other guests were leaving so the car didn’t get any attention.
She didn’t even worry about washing her uniform. She just wanted to get home. Away from a good-looking man who made her feel something she wasn’t used to, and away from the happy family whose happiness increased her loneliness.
Chapter Twenty
A week after the wedding, Isabella frowned as she pulled out two pairs of jeans, a couple of T-shirts, plus one for sleeping in, and a cardigan. If it was too cold, she could wear her leather jacket. There was no point being a fashion statement. It was a camping trip and she’d be working alongside Sebastian, carrying his gear, or whatever else a photographic assistant did.
A car pulled up outside, and she was surprised when she looked out of her window. Sebastian was climbing out of a high, white ute. She leaned forward and watched. He moved around to the back of the ute and adjusted the straps that held the load on the tray. In the back was a canvas roll, a blue esky, and a large crate that she assumed held all of his photographic gear. A warm feeling settled in her chest as the sunlight glinted on his dark hair when he looked up at her window. It was embarrassment at checking him out, that was why she felt so shaky. With one last check in the mirror, Isabella fluffed her hair with her fingers and grabbed her bag. She hadn’t seen him this week; every time he’d called and invited her out, she’d come up with an excuse as she tried to forget the feelings that had overwhelmed her at the wedding.
She walked through the milk bar where her father was talking to Sebastian. His black jeans were snug, and she’d swear his biceps had gotten bigger since he’d been working on the farm. That damn shaky feeling ran down her legs again.
Dad winked as she came in carrying the carry-all she’d found in the cupboard.
“I hope it’s okay to take this old bag, Dad. I found it in the linen cupboard. I didn’t think my suitcase would be right for camping,” she said, shooting a smile at Sebastian. “I thought we’d be on the bike.”
He shook his head. “Now that I’m a farmer, I thought I’d better invest in a ute. Pop’s old jalopy is a bit too unreliable, not to mention noisy. I don’t think it would have got us that far.”
“That’s your ute?” She gestured to the road where the shiny ute was parked.
“Yep, brand-spanking new.” He shook his head. “Feels funny. It’s the first car I’ve ever owned.”
“Did you trade your bike in?” she asked as Sebastian held his hand out for her bag.
“Hell, no. No way could I part with my baby.”
Isabella’s laugh bubbled up. She was so looking forward to this weekend. Even if it was work, it was going to be fun. And a completely new experience for her.
She leaned in
to hug Dad. “You behave yourself this weekend. And you think about what we discussed. Promise.”
He hugged her back. “I will, cara. I promise.”
Sebastian put the radio on when they hit the main highway north and groaned when a country and western channel blared out. “See if you can find some decent music,” he asked with a smile over at Isabella.
“What do you consider decent music?” She leaned forward to peer at the dashboard. The sun was low in the sky, and bright shards of silver light were glinting through the line of clouds low on the horizon. “Not country and western, I take it.”
“You’re right. I hate it.” He rolled his eyes. “Would you believe Pop still plays his old vinyl records on a turntable every night? If I hear ‘I Want to Have a Beer with Duncan’ one more time, I might have to resort to a beer or two myself!”
Isabella found the scan button and snatches of different songs floated through the cabin. Every time a different song played, she turned to Sebastian, and every time he shook his head.
On the fifth shake of his head, she shook her own head with a grin. “Okay, tell me what sort of music I’m looking for.”
“Mellow music.”
“That really helps. What sort of mellow?” she asked. “Classical or seventies mellow?”
“Seventies would be good.”
She kept scanning until he nodded.
“That’s good. Thank you.” He turned to her briefly. “So don’t tell me you’re a country and western fan?”
“No. I’m not. This is nice.” She nodded and hummed along with the slow music playing.
“Oh, I meant to tell you,” he said. “I couldn’t get a swag from Liam.”
Isabella sat up straight, suspicion forming in her mind. “So? What does that mean?”
“It’s okay. I’ve got mine. You can have that, and I’ll build a fire and sleep outside. I just didn’t want you to see the double one on the back of the ute and jump to the wrong conclusion.”
“What sort of conclusion?”
“Um. That I was trying to share my swag with you. Liam said he sold his before he went to the UK and hasn’t bothered to get another one. I thought he’d have it in his shed, but he downsized when he moved away.” Sebastian flicked the headlights on as low trees arched over a particularly narrow section of the road. “I tried Garth, but they were out.”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t have thought the worst of you,” she said. “I think I know you well enough now to know you always do the right thing.”
“I try to.” His voice was soft. “But it’s damn hard sometimes.”
“What do you mean by that? You’d like to share the swag with me?” Isabella frowned, ignoring the little flutter in her tummy.
Sebastian laughed. “That goes without saying, Bella. But we still haven’t had a real date. And if I remember correctly, you don’t succumb to any proposition until the second date. Unless I’m allowed to count the roses you brought last week as a date.”
Isabella couldn’t hold back the peal of laugher that bubbled out of her lips. “Succumb to any proposition? Have you been reading your grandmother’s Regency romances, Seb?”
She looked over at him and he rolled his eyes. “My God, I’m even starting to sound like Gran. Next you know I’ll break out into a rendition of ‘The Pub with No Beer,’ like Pop sings in the shower every night. I have to find a place of my own,” he muttered.
“So you are going to hang around here?” she asked.
“Looks like it.” It was hard to read the tone of his voice, but he stared ahead and there was no more conversation as they headed north.
…
Sebastian stood next to the ute parked on the grass on the edge of Yarrie Lake. The office was run by caretakers and they’d closed for the night, but an envelope stuck to the door with his name on it had confirmed the booking and directed them to the site they’d been allocated. The camping ground was huge, and they drove a couple of kilometres around the lake until the headlights illuminated a white post with number 31 on it, the site number they’d been looking for. It was pitch dark and they’d passed no other campers as they’d skirted the lake. Across the other side, a couple of fires flickered in the dark, reassuring him that they were not the only campers out here.
“It’s very isolated,” Isabella commented as she pulled a thin cardigan around her shoulders.
“I’ll get a fire going. Grab my leather coat. It’s on the back seat,” he offered. There was no moon and a strong, icy wind was blowing in from the west. It was blowing so hard, it had slammed the ute door shut as soon as he’d let it go. “And then I’ll get the billy boiling. Gran packed some sandwiches that we can toast in the jaffle iron.”
“A fire?” Her voice was sceptical. “In this wind? Maybe it would be easier to eat them cold and go to bed.” Isabella yawned and Sebastian reached over and took her hand.
“Trust me, Bella. I was a Boy Scout. Look, there’s a fire pit over there and a pile of timber. I’ll have a roaring blaze going in no time. You grab a camp chair and sit on this side of the ute, out of the wind, while I unload.”
“No, I’ll give you a hand. It’ll be quicker.” She shivered and he rubbed her hands between his. “And it’ll warm me up a bit.”
“It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be.” He looked up at the sky, but it was too dark to see if the clouds were threatening rain. There were no stars and that wasn’t a good sign. If it rained, he’d have to sleep in the front of the ute; it would be cramped but better than getting wet.
Together they unpacked the back of the ute, and Sebastian quickly unrolled the swag and secured it to the ground. There was a cover that he rolled out over it and pegged down as well.
“I can smell rain,” Isabella said. Almost as she spoke, the sky opened and a solid wall of rain descended.
“Quick, get in the swag,” Sebastian yelled over the noise of the fat raindrops bouncing off the ground. As she disappeared into the small tent, he grabbed the esky and pushed it inside before crawling in with her. If it had been dark outside, it was pitch dark in here. He felt around for the LED lamp that he’d unpacked and pulled his hand back quickly when it touched a soft curve.
“Oops, sorry. I was looking for the light.”
Light flooded the cosy space when Isabella located the torch and switched it on. She was sitting cross-legged and her eyes were dancing in the soft light. She grinned widely.
“Great weather to take photos,” she said.
“Great weather to camp out,” he replied.
“Great weather to sleep outside,” she came back with.
“I’ll sleep in the ute.” He tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice, but the prospect was not enticing for his six-foot-two frame.
“Don’t be silly. You can sleep in here. There’s plenty of room for both of us.” Her voice held laughter. “But so long as you know it’s not a date. Just a camp out.”
“Damn, I knew I should have packed the roses.” He nodded slowly. “It’s almost a date, you know,” he said hopefully. “That light’s as soft as a candle and I’ve got a bottle of white wine on ice in the esky.”
Isabella folded her arms and shook her head with a giggle. “No roses. No date.”
Sebastian looked at her in the soft light and caught his breath. Her lips were full and rosy, and a slight flush tinged her cheeks. Her black hair tumbled down in a riot of curls as she stared back at him…for a long time. Her brown eyes were framed by thick lashes and her lips parted softly as he held her gaze.
“What’s wrong?” she asked after a long silence.
He knew his voice was husky, and he was surprised she couldn’t hear his heart pounding in the small space of the swag.
“I’m just cursing myself for forgetting the roses,” he said softly. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Isabella.”
She leaned closer as he spoke and her perfume surrounded him.
Lemons. Citrus. Sharp.
Her lips were close to his
, but she didn’t touch him.
“Maybe since you brought the wine and the almost candle, we could say it was half a date?” Her lips were so close, her breath warmed his cheek. He waited, not wanting to make the first move and break the date deal, but before he could move back, soft lips brushed against his.
Gently, ever so gently.
He reached around and cupped the back of her neck in his hand, increasing the pressure of her lips on his by nudging her head forward a little. When she didn’t move away he closed his eyes and lost himself in the glorious warm softness of her mouth.
Never again would he smell lemons without thinking of this beautiful woman in this cosy space.
As her lips opened and she wrapped her arms around his neck, the torrential rain eased and gradually faded away into silence. All Sebastian could hear now was her soft breathing.
He opened his eyes as Isabella pulled back and rested her cheek against his.
“Are we going to have dinner?” she asked. He could feel her lips tilting in a smile against his cheek. “I’m starving.”
“I guess we’d better.” He moved back and reached for the esky. “How do you fancy cold sandwiches?”
“I’m starving, so it sounds good.”
“Gran’s homemade bread makes them gourmet quality.”
The normal conversation dispelled the intimacy that had surrounded them moments earlier. Sebastian had been wondering how far he should take the moment, what her expectations were, but he was following Isabella’s lead.
“Do you want to eat in here or go back outside?” he asked.
“Everything’s going to be pretty wet out there, isn’t it?” she said.
“Yep, the chairs will be soaked. So it’s here, or in the ute.”
“This is cosy and dry.” She looked around. “Do you think the rain’s gone?”
“I’m hoping it was just a localised storm. It wasn’t forecast when I looked at the weather site before we left.” He passed her a packet of sandwiches. “Would you like a wine with your meal, madame?”