Linda Goodnight - Married Under The Mistletoe

“So stop being so jumpy.” It irritated him.

“I am not—” But she didn’t bother to finish the denial. “What do you want to talk about? Is there a problem with the flat? A problem with the new business?”

“Do you ever relax? Maybe read a book or watch the telly?”

“When I have time.”

Which he doubted was ever.

He pushed. “How much of London have you seen since you’ve been here?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like, but I love it. The museums, the history.”

“We’re steps away from some of the finest museums in the world. Which ones have you seen?”

“The Royal College of Art,” she shot back.

No surprise there. He knew from looking at the walls in the flat and in the restaurant that she fancied modern art, the kind he couldn’t begin to understand. There wasn’t a realistic picture anywhere in the place.

“Where else?”

She shrugged and went silent.

“That’s it? You’ve not done the palace or the Victoria and Albert Museum?” They were right around the corner.

“Not yet. But I will.”

“What about Hyde Park?”

“I jog there.”

“A picnic is better. What say we have one?”

Her hands stopped fidgeting. “A picnic?”

Was that longing he heard?

“Yep. Tomorrow afternoon. Hyde Park.”

She shook her head; waves of red swung around her shoulders. “I’m too busy.”

“So am I.” Suddenly, he wanted a picnic more than anything. “But real life happens in between the busyness, Stephanie.”

Her gaze slid up to his, slid away, then came back again. She wanted to. He was certain of it.

He gave her a half smile. It probably looked sinister but he hoped for charm. “Avoiding me again?”

“No!”

He lifted a doubting brow.

She sighed. “All right, then, a picnic. Tomorrow after the noon rush.”

Triumph, way out of proportion to the event, expanded in Daniel’s chest. At last. He was getting somewhere with the cool and aloof one. Though why it mattered, he had no idea.

“You’re going on a picnic?” Chef Karl, slim and neat in his burgundy chef’s coat, froze with one hand on the parmesan and the other on a giant pan of fresh veal.

“Yes, Karl, a picnic,” Stephanie said coolly, though her nerves twitched like a cat’s tail. “Not bungee jumping from the London Bridge.”

“But—” his wide brow, reddened by heat and concentration, puckered “—you never take time off.”

“She is today.” Daniel, purring like an oversized pussycat and resembling a pillaging pirate, burst through the metal swinging doors that led into the kitchen from the back of the restaurant.

Stephanie’s twitchy nerves went haywire. She had to grab on to the stainless-steel counter to, literally, get a grip.

My goodness, that man takes up a lot of space.

Karl, who hadn’t a subtle bone in his body, looked from Stephanie to Daniel. “Oh. I see.”

Exactly what he saw, Stephanie didn’t know and didn’t want to know. The staff had no right to poke into her personal life, although she now realized she and Daniel would become this afternoon’s gossip.

Great. She was already struggling with last night’s decision. What had she been thinking to agree to such a silly thing? Such a dangerous thing? But the truth was she wanted to go on a picnic. With her new roommate. And she did not want to obsess over the reasons.

When she’d come in last night to find Daniel sitting in the dark surrounded by his usual mess, she’d been tempted to run back down the stairs. He was right. She had been avoiding the flat, partly because of him. Partly because she dreaded the nightmares that had begun with his arrival.

She was exhausted both physically and mentally. When he’d goaded her, she’d been too tired to think. And now, here she was, both dreading and longing for a picnic with a pirate.

“Don’t worry about it, Karl.” She patted the chef’s arm. “I’ll prepare the lunch myself. This is a restaurant, you know. We’re bound to have something picnic-worthy around here. You go ahead with preparations for this evening.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Daniel asked, eyes dancing with a devilish gleam that said he didn’t give a rip about becoming the latest fodder for gossip.

“You could let me off the hook.” But she hoped he wouldn’t.

The gleam grew brighter. “Not a chance. Be ready in ten minutes. We’re walking.”

Then he shouldered his way out of the kitchen, slowing long enough to hold the door for one of the hostesses.

“Bossy man,” Stephanie muttered half to herself.

“The macho ones always are,” the blonde hostess said. “But they are so worth it.”

Stifling a groan, Stephanie settled on simple picnic fare, which she packed into a bread basket before going out to check the restaurant one more time.

Only a few stray shoppers sipped lattes or fragrant teas at this hour of the day. The dining room was quiet except for the efficient staff preparing for later when things really got hopping. Everything was well-organized. Stephanie’s sense of order was intact—except for the little matter of an afternoon with a most disorderly man.

She passed by the bar, scanning the stock, the glasses, the bartenders. A lone customer sat at the bar sipping one of their special hand-mixed drinks. As was her habit, she stopped to offer a smile and a welcome.

From the corner of her eye she spotted Daniel’s dark head. He poked around behind the bar and came out with a bottle of wine. He held it up, arching an eyebrow at her.

She pointed a finger in chastisement, but he only laughed and tapped a wide-strapped watch. “Two minutes. Back door.”

As soon as he was out of hearing distance, Sophie, one of the bartenders, leaned toward her. “You and Delicious Dan seem to be hitting it off nicely.”

Stephanie frosted her with a look. Grinning, Sophie slunk away to polish glasses.

Two minutes later, basket clenched in chilled fingers, Stephanie joined Daniel in the hallway. Her pulse, already racing, kicked up more when John Valentine walked in the door.

Her boss’s portly face lit up. “Daniel. Stephanie. What a delight!”

Beside her, Daniel stiffened. “John.”

They exchanged greetings, but Stephanie could feel the tension emanating from Daniel and the disappointment from her boss.

“So,” John said, somewhat too jauntily. “Are the two of you off somewhere, then?”

“Hyde Park and the Serpentine. Stephanie hasn’t been.” Daniel’s response was almost a challenge, as if he expected argument.

Guilt suffused Stephanie. She shouldn’t be running off to play with the boss’s son. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr Valentine.”

“Mind? Why should I? You hardly ever take an afternoon.”

Since his mild heart attack a few weeks back, Stephanie thought John looked tired. With all that was going on, she wondered how his health was holding up. Missing money was bad enough, but the family problems continued to mount. John’s wife was still angry about the arrival of the twins, though John longed to get to know them. Then there was his daughter, Louise. She’d had a whirlwind trip to Meridia and then, instead of working through her problems with John, had already jetted off again. This time to Australia to meet a woman who could be her biological sister. And none of that included the lifelong bitterness between him and his brother, Robert. How much more could the poor man handle?

“Are you sure, Mr Valentine?” she asked. “I can stay here if you prefer.” In fact, considering the way Daniel got under her skin, working would probably be wiser.

“I’m available if any problems arise in the dining room. Go on. Have a lovely time. I’m going to pop in and say hello to Dominic. He thinks he may have some news for me.”