Annie West - Rags To Riches - His Wish, Her Command

‘Um,’ Seb replied as she slumped forward onto the ladder. ‘Good effort. Can you make it down?’

Her reply was a whimper and a gentle nod. ‘I just need a minute,’ she replied in a faint voice.

‘Okay. I am going to put my hands on your waist. So don’t be startled. It’s just to hold you steady on the way down. Are you ready?’

Seb stood behind Ella and gently spread his hands both sides of her waist and pressed gently.

‘I’ve got you now. One step at a time. Steady. That’s it.’

A fast-beating heart pulsed below the fragile ribcage under his fingers. Fast like the caged finch he used to have as a boy. Only this was no bird. This was a soft and warm person trembling in his hands. A thin layer of fabric separated his fingertips from her skin and as she slowly extended one leg down to the next rung he breathed in a luscious smell of flowers and baking and the sweet fruit on the ground under his shoes and above his head.

He did not do intimate. And this was the closest he had come for longer than he cared to recall.

And he would have a lot of explaining to do if someone caught them like this, because, like it or not, when Ella reached the bottom of the ladder, she turned to face him. And leant forward with both palms flat against his chest, resting her forehead on the backs of her hands, so that he was looking down onto the top of her shiny brown hair as she caught her breath.

Connection. Deep, real and not to be denied. Connection and attraction. The kind of attraction that meant that he had no desire whatsoever to remove his hands from her waist.

Which was totally crazy!

He had felt unsettled earlier in the day when their hands had touched, but this felt deeper and more fundamental and so far out of his comfort zone it was not funny.

He swallowed down a moment of spiralling heat, then slowly released his hands from her waist and stepped back. Time to take control.

He was a tourist here with every intention of leaving at the first opportunity and he had better remember that fact. Perhaps he could find the time to take some lunch, but then he would be on his way. Job done.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, looking into her face, and was rewarded with a hesitant smile.

‘Much. Thank you. I, er, really should know my limitations, shouldn’t I?’

‘I’ll trade you a basket of those cherries—’ he pointed at the highest point on the tree, red with ripe glistening fruit ‘—for one of those tarts and that lunch you promised me. And I will be careful in my slippery shoes. Do we have a deal?’

Ella pushed out her lower lip and pretended to think about it for a second, then nodded and reached out to shake his hand once. The texture of her skin was dry. The palms calloused. A worker’s hand. He liked that, which was bizarre. Perhaps he didn’t like smooth-skinned girls with immaculate manicures as much as he thought he did? Either way, Ella was making his head spin.

‘Deal.’ She nodded firmly. ‘I did promise you lunch. Provided you can do it now, of course. No time like the present.’

‘Is that another of those English expressions you are so full of?’

‘One for every occasion. Didn’t you know?’ Ella replied with a faint smile, her breathing back close to normal. ‘I had better sort out that recipe. And don’t forget that you owe me an hour. Best get to work!’

And with a wave of her hand she turned back towards the house, and Seb and Milou stood next to each other for a second watching the slim figure negotiate the patio.

Seb glanced down to see a pair of yellow eyes looking back at him.

‘Well, we best get busy then, mate.’

There was a low sigh in disgusted response and the dog settled himself into comfort in the shade of the cherry trees.

‘Good idea—you just stay there on guard duty! That’s it. I’ll do the work.’ And try and work out what I have just got myself into in more ways than one.

An hour later, Ella looked out of the kitchen window at the sound of Milou barking.

Seb was pacing up and down the patio stones, wagging the fingers of his right hand and gritting his teeth while chatting away to someone on the cell phone.

Intrigued, she strolled outside just as he closed the call, drying her hand on the towel tucked into her apron waistband.

‘Problem?’

He noticed her, and a slight flush of embarrassment flared on his neck, as though he had been caught doing something naughty.

The naughty Sebastien. Now that thought was enough to bring a smile to her face.

There were pieces of twig and dead leaves caught in the tight curls of his hair, his right forearm was scratched below his rolled up shirt sleeve and cherry juice was spotted all along one broad shoulder.

Strange how it suited him perfectly. The naughty Seb.

‘The wasps,’ he sighed. ‘Took exception to my stealing their food. And my friend Matt has just found a legal technicality which will keep him in Paris until late Sunday. Looks like I am on my own.’

‘Oh, thanks a lot! What a lovely compliment. Let me take a look at your sting.’

He held his hand above his head and gave her a look of disbelief.

‘I can handle a wasp sting, thank you all the same. Even if it does smart.’

Ella raised both of her hands. ‘I was simply going to offer you some antihistamine cream. But if you prefer to suffer in silence like a macho hero? Well, that’s up to you.’ She folded her arms and waited. Patiently.

He pursed his lips and sniffed. ‘Antihista-mine I can use. Pass it over.’

Ella gestured with her head toward the kitchen, unfolded her arms, then picked up the basket of cherries. ‘Follow me.’

The first thing Seb saw when he walked into the kitchen were two family-sized open fruit tarts.

‘Wow. You weren’t joking. Are these a trial run for Nicole’s party?’

‘Partly for Nicole’s party but I also need to get baking for the end of year fete at Dan’s school this afternoon. I volunteered to help out with the entertainment. And most of the desserts! I made the fresh apricot and vanilla cream last week, but the cherry is a new recipe. The cherries I picked yesterday are so sweet and juicy it seems a shame to spoil the flavour with too much almond.’

Seb sat down in front of the two desserts which had already been cut into large segments. They smelt wonderful.

‘Oh you mean the kermesse? Everyone loves the end of year party.’ Seb smiled with a shake of the head as a long forgotten memory wafted into his mind. ‘I vaguely remember dressing up as a tiger in primary school. Or was it a bear? I think we had too much fun running around in costumes to think about the food.’

‘Then this could be your lucky day. I need a human taster to help me decide which of these two beauties would be best for a summer dessert. Think garden party on a hot evening. Think nice dresses and smart suits. No gloppy sauces allowed. The children and parents at the fete won’t mind, but Nicole’s guests might.’

Ella kept on talking as she loaded a plate with a large slice from each tart, slid it across the table towards him and popped the tube of antihistamine cream next to it.

‘This is your lunch, so please help yourself while they are still warm. I know you won’t hesitate to tell me the truth.’

Seb picked up the nearest fork and broke off a piece from the soft deep cherry tart. As he raised it towards his lips the overwhelming fragrance of sweet almonds, butter pastry and warm tart cherries had his mouth watering even before his lips closed around the food.

His eyes closed.

Wow. He was tasting summer.

Crisp pastry melted in his mouth as the rich ground almond paste soothed his tongue and, just when he thought it could not get any better, his teeth squeezed into a whole pitted cherry, and the warm juices burst onto his tongue.