If you like this online read you'll enjoy Liz Fielding's books!

Secret Baby, Surprise Parents
 £2.54
 £2.54

Wedded in a Whirlwind
 £2.54
 £2.99

Mistletoe and the Lost Stiletto
 £2.80
 £2.80

All through the busy lunchtime, the rush of media stars, artists, the unexpected arrival of a minor royal whose party had to be found room in an already packed restaurant, Luc kept an eye on her.

Polly wasn’t slick. He didn’t know what she’d told Robert about her previous experience, but it certainly hadn’t been as a waitress at the luxury end of the business, he decided, after witnessing a couple of close calls with the silver service. Far from irritating high profile diners who were used to the best, however, they responded to her startled “oops” with good humour, encouraging her efforts, tipping her extravagantly.

Watching her might be wrecking his nerves, but she had a way about her, a warmth that people responded to. A smile that could melt permafrost.

Max Valentine joined him, followed his gaze. “Isn’t that Emma’s friend? How’s she doing?”

“Living dangerously. If she gets through lunch without tipping a bowl of soup into someone’s lap, it’ll be a miracle.”

“Oh, great, that’s all we need. A lawsuit.” Then, “Look, Dad wants me at head office and he warned me it’s likely to be a long one. I realise it’s your evening off, but I wondered if you could stand in for me?”

“No problem.”

“Thanks, Luc.” Then, “Keep an eye on that girl.”

That wasn”t a problem, either. It was looking away he was finding difficult.

Polly made it through her first day on pure adrenaline. It would have been easier if Luc Bellisario hadn’t been watching every move, making it plain that he thought she was a disaster waiting to happen. It hadn’t and by the end of the week, even the perfectionist head waiter had given her a nod of approval.

But the devil just didn’t quit. Every time she looked up, it seemed, his dark eyes were fixed on her. Every time he spoke to her, he had found something to criticize. Her hair, mostly.

Today, though, she really was in trouble. At one of her tables, a woman whose face was a permanent fixture on the front pages of the gossip magazines, had drunk her way steadily through a bottle of wine, waiting for a lunch date who never appeared, not touching the bread, the herb-flavoured olive oil, the tiny antipasto appetizers that Polly had brought, hoping to tempt the woman to eat something....

Luc, a sixth sense alerting him to trouble, looked for Polly. But for once she wasn’t causing the drama--she had diffused it. She calmly, lent an arm to the infamous diner as if she was a dowager rather than just unsteady on her feet. Luc moved to help, but Polly stopped him with a keep-back I-can-handle-this look, and helped the woman move towards the rear exit to escape the paparazzi who were outside hoping for a gift like this.

It was nearly an hour before she returned.

“Where the devil have you been?” Luc demanded, when she finally appeared. By then he was almost out of his mind with worry.

“Sorry. I didn’t have any money with me so I had to walk back.”

“What!”

Misunderstanding him, she was instantly on the defensive, “I had to make sure that poor woman got home safely.”

“It’s a pity she didn’t have the same thought for you.”

“She was distraught.” Then, “So? Am I in trouble, Mr. Bellisario? Do I get shot for desertion in the face of the dessert trolley?”

“Nothing that painless, Polly. Your punishment is to sit next to me at lunch.” For a moment she looked beaten, but she rallied. “Brave man.”

He thought that foolhardy probably better described his action as sat beside him at the staff lunch table. He was much too close to the fine spirals of hair that had worked free of the pins that never could quite restrain them. Much too close, altogether.

“Tell me,” he said, in an effort to distract himself, “what were you doing before you worked here?”

So, that was what he was after. Digging into her background to find some reason to get rid of her.

“Not this,” Polly said, and since there was no point in pretending, listed all the jobs she’d had in the last year--always two at a time--cooking fast food, slow food, pub food just to pay back the bank, keep a roof over her head.

This had the effect of rendering Luc momentarily speechless. A relief. She could resist his good looks--if she closed her eyes--but his voice never failed to reduce her bones to putty.

“You’re a cook?” he asked, while she helped herself to a spoonful of risotto. She wasn’t planning a long lunch.

“According to any number of gold-edged certificates with my name on them,” she assured him. “In fact until a year ago I was a partner in a catering business I started straight from college.”

“So?”

She looked at him. The lightning in his eyes had softened to flecks of gold and she discovered that it wasn’t just his voice....

“What happened?”

She swallowed, concentrated very hard, remembered how to speak. “One of my partners had a baby.”

“And the other?”

She swallowed, took a slow breath. “Was the father,” she said. It had been a year. She was over it, she told herself. Looking into Luc Bellisario’s eyes, she could even believe it. “They wanted their capital back. It was tied up in the equipment.”

“You had to sell it?”

“Yes.” At a thumping loss, which she’d carried. She’d have done anything to escape... “This is my way back. Emma told me about the tips your people earn. A year and I’ll be able to start over.” This time on her own. Then, “Is that it, Mr. Bellisario? Inquisition over? Because I’m done here.”

“Luc,” he said. Then stood as she pushed back her chair, “We got off to a bad start, Polly, but I want you know that I appreciate what you did today.”

“Oh,” she said, doing her best to ignore her stupid heart doing that stupid little fluttery thing.

“Just ...”

Too soon....

“What!” she demanded.

“Next time take a taxi,” he said, with unexpected warmth. “We”ll pay.”

He’d misjudged her, Luc realized, as she walked away. He now watched her, not for mistakes, but for the pleasure of it. Nearby, Robert Valentine, his attention caught by a burst of laughter, smiled. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” “More than that, sir. A lot more than that.” She’d had a setback, but was determined to start again. That took courage. Heart.





chapter: 1  2  3  4