Ashley Lister - Just Desserts

(Book 3 of the Sweet Temptation series)

ASHLEY LISTER

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This novella is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

Mischief

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.mischiefbooks.com

An eBook Original 2015

1

Copyright © Ashley Lister 2015

Ashley Lister asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

eBook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007579570

Version: 2015-08-17

Contents

Cover

Title Page Just Desserts (Book 3 of the Sweet Temptation series) ASHLEY LISTER A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright This novella is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. Mischief An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London, SE1 9GF www.mischiefbooks.com An eBook Original 2015 1 Copyright © Ashley Lister 2015 Ashley Lister asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. eBook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007579570 Version: 2015-08-17

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

More from Mischief

About the Publisher

‘…if any of you know cause or just impediment why these persons should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or for ever hold your peace.’

Father Truman paused and stared out at the wedding party.

The silence in the restaurant was so thick it was almost tangible.

It was not the first wedding that had been performed in Boui-Boui. Trudy had catered for several weddings where the bride and groom had asked to use the Michelin-starred facilities for their marriage. With its envied reputation, its associations with local celebrity and its trademark chintzy decor, Boui-Boui was a desirable location for such an important event.

Trudy recognised the priest. Father Truman was the local minister who had officiated at two or three previous marriages. He was a charming man and seemed to take genuine pleasure from being able to bring a couple together through the wedding service. But Trudy didn’t think she could warm to the man on this occasion.

Father Truman’s expectant silence continued.

Harvey Walker, the best man, stared out at those gathered. He looked resplendent in his morning suit. With black tails over a silver waistcoat, he held his top hat in one hand and wore a proud smile. Trudy thought he was looking for Charlotte, to give her a warming smile. The couple seemed to have been smiling at each other a lot recently.

His gaze fell on Trudy. His proud smile saddened a little.

Trudy warned herself that she wouldn’t cry.

Imogen, the maid of honour, chewed her lower lip nervously. She looked like a woman who didn’t care about the impending photographs. Her gaze flitted constantly between the bride, the groom and the priest. Her eye make-up, heavy and dark, had already been smudged by tears.

The restaurant was crowded. As the expectant silence stretched, a handful of guests shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. On table thirteen, Daryl leant close to Trudy’s ear and lowered her voice to a whisper.

‘You should say something.’

Trudy tried to push her away and silently shush her. She was loath to admit that she had been thinking the same thing.

‘Just clear your throat and cough,’ Daryl suggested. Her voice was incredibly soft. Her words were obscenely tempting. ‘It would be enough to let the bastard know that he shouldn’t have treated you so badly.’

‘Not now,’ Trudy insisted.

‘I’ll do it,’ Daryl promised. ‘I’ll shout out and say he shouldn’t be marrying that hatchet-faced bitch. He should be marrying you. Just give me a nod and I’ll do it.’

Trudy’s cheeks had turned crimson. She fretted that, in the service’s inescapable silence, everyone would hear Daryl’s outraged whisperings and might understand the embarrassment of what had happened. The idea of all Bill’s friends and family knowing about her shame was unthinkable.

‘Daryl,’ she warned softly.

‘Very well,’ the priest declared, breaking the silence. He turned to the bride and said, ‘Do you, Aliceon Johnson, take William Hart to be your lawful wedded husband?’

Trudy didn’t hear the rest of what was being said. She was too busy chastising herself for not taking Daryl’s advice. She should have halted the ceremony. She should have screamed and wailed. She should have shouted, ‘You can’t marry her. You can’t marry her because I love you and I thought you loved me.’

An hour later and the ceremony was concluded, the speeches had been mercifully drawn to a close and most of the buffet had been consumed. Guests were milling and mingling whilst an overly enthusiastic DJ encouraged everyone to take their place on the dance floor.

Daryl was in the arms of her latest girlfriend, Beatrice. Even though the music around them was loud and upbeat, the pair gyrated slowly together as though listening to a sultry ballad that only they could hear. Daryl was wearing peach colours for the wedding and they complemented the pastel greens worn by her partner. Beatrice’s gown was worn off the shoulder, revealing a yin-yang tattoo.

Daryl kept touching the tattoo as they danced.

It was only a small detail but it made Trudy happy for the pair of them when she noticed the intimacy. Their relationship had been swift but it looked close and she thought it was destined to last. Trudy empathised. Both of the women were slender and blonde and attractive. They looked like a perfect match as they rocked and swayed to the rhythm of unheard music.