by Confetti
Millie was about to shoot back an equally caustic comment, but reconsidered when she remembered the position she was in.
‘Sorry, sorry. And, erm, thanks, Zach. For saving me.’
‘The best way you can thank me is by working on your tendency to cause turmoil wherever you go. A man can get seriously injured being around you. I think I need to call my broker and increase my life insurance cover.’
Zach uncoiled his arms from around her chest and turned to face her. His black T-shirt was drenched from his brief dalliance at the bottom of the post-monsoon gulley and it clung to his torso, highlighting his taut stomach muscles, and his neatly gelled mahogany hair was dotted with dry leaves and blades of grass. Even in his dishevelled state, he oozed brooding good looks and a curl of attraction twisted through Millie’s veins. His lips were mere inches from hers, his breath tickling her earlobe, but she concluded that, sadly, it was probably not the right moment to indulge in a repeat performance of their previous kissing marathon.
Zach leaped to his feet and offered Millie his palm to pull her upright, his eyes dancing with mischief.
‘You could just come over and say hello? Maybe a peck on the cheek like Imogen opted for? But, oh no. Nothing so mundane for Amelia Harper where excitement and surprise are the buzz-words of the day.’
Millie was saved from delivering her rant of retaliation by the arrival of Imogen and Alex.
‘Oh my God! Millie, are you hurt?’
‘I’m fine…’
‘Whilst I, on the other hand, have suffered the indignity of being splattered from head to toe with Caribbean mud!’ smirked Zach, just about able to conceal his laughter at the comical situation he found himself in. ‘It’s just as well Ella’s already informed me how beneficial it is for a blemish-free complexion!’
‘Not that you need it!’ laughed Harriet, turning to survey Millie, the relief that all was well scrawled across her features. ‘Owen, why don’t you give them both a quick once over? You are a doctor!’
‘Not any more,’ he murmured before meeting Millie’s eyes. ‘Millie, Zach, I’m so, so sorry! Can you forgive me? It’s all my fault. I got over-confident. I should have known what would happen, what always happens whenever I…’
‘It’s okay, Owen. Don’t worry about it. We’re both fine. No harm done.’
‘Greg Collins, don’t you ever ask Owen to do anything like that again!’ demanded Harriet. ‘This is supposed to be a fun-filled week for everyone. You are one of the hardest task-masters I’ve ever come across and that includes those physio guys Owen had to deal with at the rehab centre! I shouldn’t have to remind you that none of you are in the forces anymore.’
Greg had the decency to fix an expression of contrition on his handsome face. Clearly, he accepted the accusation that his carefully crafted schedule of activities had pushed Owen beyond his comfort zone.
‘Sorry, Harriet. Apologies, Owen. And to you, Immie and Alex. I promise I’ll tone down the heroics from now on.’
‘Good, because before Harriet even has the chance to draw her sword, Mum will kill you with her bare hands if any of the wedding photographs are marred by one of the gang sporting a plaster cast!’ warned Imogen.
Greg visibly shuddered. ‘Gosh, please don’t threaten me with Julia’s wrath!’
The group laughed and the tension that had been building since the men’s arrival on the scene evaporated. Millie surreptitiously brushed the vegetation from her shins and made a bee-line for the kitchen where Ella, who had thankfully been oblivious to the drama unfolding in the courtyard, handed round cool beers and iced tea.
‘Another eventful day in the life of Manic Millie!’ teased Zach, snaking his arm around Millie’s shoulders as he supped his beer. ‘What am I going to do for excitement around here when you leave us next week?’
Chapter Four
An hour later, Ella and Millie waved goodbye to the wedding party, all of whom were in high spirits. Everyone had enjoyed their chosen activities that day and the conversation had been animated, with Alex and Greg vying for bragging rights for the best quad bike rider, causing Imogen and Carla to roll their eyes in amusement.
Zach offered to give Ella a lift down the hill to Soufrière where she intended to meet up with Henri for dinner, and at last Millie was alone. She slipped off her shoes, grabbed a beer, and went to sit on the edge of the pool, her toes floating in the cool water. Darkness had fallen but the atmosphere was still humid. All around her, the eternal soundtrack of the tropical rainforest chirped and squawked and scuttled as the nocturnal animals went about their business. She tipped her head back and inhaled the exotic perfume of the fallen lemons, crushed underfoot, mingled with jasmine and something altogether earthier.
A wave of contentment rippled through her body as she appreciated her good fortune at being in such an idyllic place, doing what she loved most with people who were happy to be there. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would ever find herself relaxing by a Caribbean pool, thanking the director of her fate for her blessings, and yet, here she was.
Suddenly, she wanted to share her good fortune with someone, so instead of retiring early for the night like she did yesterday, she decided to take a walk to the wooden lodge at the other side of the cocoa plantation that Zach called home. She checked her watch. He should be back from dropping Ella off by now. She collected her shoes, grabbed a bottle of red wine and a torch, and made her way along the path that wound through the cocoa palms from the villa to the cabin.
As Millie drew closer to the lodge, the ambient calm of the night was rudely interrupted by the buzz of a chain saw. She slowed her pace, not wanting to alarm Zach by her approach and cause an accident, until she came to a stop just beyond the clearing where his temporary home was located. Amber light flooded the area where Zach was busy working, the chain saw sending chips of wood and sawdust into the air like confetti at a wedding. She saw that he was working on sculpting a thick tree trunk into a sort of rustic bench. He worked in a controlled and precise manner, pausing to flick up the visor of his safety helmet to check his progress before resuming his careful carving.
The whine of the saw stopped again. She watched Zach reach for a bottle of water and empty the contents into his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing rhythmically at his throat as he gulped down the drink. For the first time, Millie noticed he had removed his shirt and a spasm of desire shot into her chest and travelled southwards. Zach wiped his lips with the back of his hand, sending droplets of water onto his naked chest where they glistened in the golden light. The well-defined muscles on his abdomen contracted as he continued with his woodcutting and Millie suddenly felt as though she had downed the bottle of red wine she was still clutching in one go!
She recognised physical attraction when she experienced it. A hot ember of lust had ignited in what she had thought was a dormant part of her body and she wanted to stay in that precise spot for the rest of the evening, relishing the intoxicating sight before her eyes. She didn’t want to invade Zach’s privacy, but she was unsure how to make herself known without making it look like she was some kind of voyeur. Warmth flooded her cheeks, but it was the heat of attraction that was travelling around her veins that worried her. In the end, the decision was taken out of her hands.
‘Woof!’
Her cover was blown. She glanced at Zach and his gaze connected with hers, a slow smile turning his lips upwards into the familiar smirk.
‘Looks like we have a visitor, Binks.’
Millie bent down to fondle the black-and-white spaniel’s silky ears to give herself time to calm her rampaging emotions and hope that the colour in her cheeks faded before she had to face Zach. Perspiration collected on her temples and beneath her breasts, and she craved a mouthful of the water Zach had been drinking earlier. A pair of steel-capped work boots appeared and she slowly raised herself from her haunches to meet his eyes.
‘Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you whilst you were… were working.’
‘How long have you been standing here?’ murmured Zach, his voice as low and smooth as a caress, his eyes flicking down to her lips then back to her eyes.
‘Erm, not long. I just… I just thought we could share a bottle of…’
Zach was now millimetres away from her. The electricity in the space between them was almost too much to bear and Millie was finding it hard to breathe. She raised the bottle of wine to show Zach what she meant but the sudden movement caused her to lose her footing and she tumbled backwards into one of the magnolia bushes that framed the wooden cabin, ending up spread-eagled amongst the leaves and unable to extricate herself without his assistance.
‘Oh my God!’ howled Zach, his eyes widened with mirth. ‘Mishap Millie strikes again! Well, I suppose you’re nothing if not consistent.’
‘Are you just going to stand there laughing, or are you going to help me out of here?’
‘What do you think, Binks? Should we be chivalrous and help the young lady out of her embarrassing predicament or, and this is my preferred option, should I rush to the cabin for my mobile phone and upload this photographic gem to my Instagram account?’
‘Very funny!’
The cute dimples that bracketed Zach’s mouth reappeared as he offered Millie his hand to drag her free of the tree’s embrace. To her horror, he then began to brush away the leaves that clung to her T-shirt and capri pants, spending an inordinate amount of time on the arboreal debris that had attached itself to her bottom.
‘Erm…’
‘Just let me…’ Zach reached forward, his thumb and forefinger extended towards her curls, which had now expanded into an unattractive halo of blonde frizz. ‘You have a bit of…’
Millie knew that if she leaned forward just another inch her lips would connect with Zach’s. Go for it! screamed her heart, but before her brain could reconnect to her modem and react to the order, Zach had disentangled the dried palm frond and called Binks to heel.
‘Fancy a spag bol to go with that wine?’ Zach called over his shoulder as if nothing had happened.
‘You’re offering to cook?’
‘Well, there’s no way I’m letting you loose in my kitchen, that’s for sure. Don’t forget I’ve seen what devastation you can wreak in a kitchen! I don’t think Binks could cope with the cleaning up. The invitation is only valid if you promise not to interfere – physically or verbally.’
‘Deal.’
‘Come on then.’
Zach led the way up the wooden steps and through the front door of the lodge. He settled an excited Binks in his tartan-lined basket with a reassuring pat and a dog biscuit from his pocket and crossed the open-plan lounge area to the kitchen
‘Grab a seat and I’ll pour the wine.’
‘Oh, I can help with that.’
‘No, thank you! Remember your promise?’
However, Millie had already opened one of the kitchen cupboards to search for a couple of glasses. Even her sister Jen, who was the Queen of Culinary Orderliness, didn’t organise her kitchen cupboards with such meticulous attention to detail. She wasn’t surprised to see an array of jars of varying exoticness – Caribbean spices, dried herbs, flavoured salts – every label lined up in military precision.
‘I can’t believe you store your spices in alphabetical order!’
Zach gently removed the jar of dried oregano from her hand, returned it to its rightful place, and shooed her away to the lounge.
‘Go and keep Binks company.’
Whilst Zach assembled the dinner ingredients and set two places at the pine table, Millie took the opportunity to survey the décor. Like the kitchen, the room was meticulously tidy. A carved mahogany mask presided over the redundant fireplace like a painted witch doctor ready to cast a spell. There was a hand-made bookcase next to the door that Millie assumed led to the bedroom, and she had to quickly squash the image of Zach sprawled out on his bed asleep, naked but for a cotton sheet.
She decided to investigate the bookcase’s contents, curious to know what type of books Zach liked to read. Tropical Caribbean Birds? Quad Bikes and how to Race Them? Fifty Shades of Grey, maybe? Millie couldn’t prevent a gasp of interest escaping her lips.
‘What?’ asked Zach from the breakfast bar where he was slicing onions with the precision of a master craftsman before weighing out the pasta on a set of digital scales. One of Claudia’s cookery books was propped open on the bench.
‘Oh, nothing. You know, this really is a very luxuriously appointed lodge.’
‘I have Jake to thank for that. He’s lived here for the last two years and you’re right, he’s certainly put a very comfortable stamp on what could have been a much more rustic abode.’
‘What sort of place do you have back in the UK?’
‘I live in the lodge at the entrance to Claudia and Tim’s manor house in a little village called Berryford. It’s small, but perfectly formed, as they say. It’s ideal for me and Binks and the best thing is that there’s no commute. I just have to roll out of bed and I’m at work.’
Once again, an erotic image flickered across Millie’s vision of Zach stretching his limbs as he made his way into the shower before he started his day ensuring the smooth running of his employers’ Cotswold estate. Zach had already told her a little about his childhood, growing up in the Oxfordshire countryside with his younger brother, Martin, exploring the rivers and streams like a pair of water otters until the shock announcement that the family were relocating to the metropolis of London so his father could take up a management position in one of the large international law firms. His parents had divorced a couple of years later after his mother had discovered his father was having an affair with a colleague twenty years his junior.
Zach taste-tested the bolognese sauce for flavour, added an extra sprinkle of oregano and declared himself happy. He carefully replaced the jar in its rightful space in the cupboard, washed the spoon, dried it, and returned it to the cutlery drawer before removing the pan of cooked pasta and dumping its contents into a colander in the sink.
The whole scene was like a choreographed culinary ballet and Millie had to smother a smile as she watched him divided the spaghetti into a couple of wide-brimmed china bowls, add a dollop of sauce precisely into the centre of each, grate a generous helping of parmesan before adding a final garnish of fresh basil leaves. He then submerged the pan in the sink, repeated the performance he’d enacted with every other utensil, and joined Millie at the table with a second bottle of wine.
The aroma of garlic wafted to her nostrils and Millie clamped her lips together for fear of drooling. She had to admit that Zach Barker was turning out to be a man of surprisingly diverse skills, and as she twirled her spaghetti around her fork, she cast a surreptitious glance to the bookcase as heat flooded her cheeks once more.
Was one of the books The Kama Sutra?
Chapter Five
‘Where do you think they’ve got to?’ asked Ella, slinging her tea towel over her shoulder and glancing at the clock next to the powder-blue Smeg refrigerator. ‘Everyone’s usually here by nine-thirty for a ten o’clock start and it’s almost eleven now.’
‘Do you think they’re perhaps disappointed with the Chocolate and Confetti course and are just too polite to say anything?’ suggested Millie.
‘No, of course not. Imogen told me that she’s loving the tutorials. Maybe their hire car has broken down. You know what the roads are like round here, those cars do take a battering. Why don’t you give Imogen a call?’
Millie grabbed her mobile and selected Imogen’s number. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as she waited for her to pick up. However, the phone went straight to
voicemail and she decided not to leave a message. She inhaled a deep breath, but she felt like a slab of concrete was pressing all the oxygen from her lungs as she contemplated the possible reasons behind the women’s failure to turn up for their third day at the Paradise Cookery School. Then another, even more alarming, thought occurred to her. What if one of them had food poisoning? That would definitely jeopardise any further classes.
‘There’s no point in fretting until we know what the problem is,’ counselled Ella, gifting Millie with a wide smile. ‘Let’s grab some breakfast and sit outside on the veranda while we wait.’
Within minutes of sitting down under a parasol with her freshly ground coffee and flaky croissant, Millie’s phone buzzed.
‘Millie? Is that you?’
‘Hi, Imogen. Is everything okay? Ella and I were worried about you.’
There was a pause at the other end of the line during which Millie heard what she thought was a gulp.
‘I’m really sorry about this morning, Millie. But the most dreadful thing has happened.’ Again, there was a brief silence whilst Imogen gathered her courage to continue. ‘There was fire in the hotel kitchen in the early hours of the morning.’
‘Oh my God! Was anyone hurt?’
‘No. Thankfully the staff caught it before it had chance to spread from the dessert preparation area, but… but the thing is… my wedding cake has been totally destroyed – unless you like your cake with a chargrilled coating and flavoured with smoke. Not only that, but all the wedding favours Mum and Karen have painstakingly prepared were in a box next to the cake and every single one of them is ruined. It’s a complete disaster. Mum’s absolutely gutted but Brad is doing a grand job of comforting her – he’s turning out to be a complete godsend, to be honest. Even Karen has come around to the view that he’s great for Mum.’
‘Oh, Imogen, I’m so sorry. What a nightmare. Is there anything Ella and I can do to help?’