Once Fliss was seated, everyone picked up their spoons but Fliss’s eyes were on Alphonse. Even Solange and Yvette paused to watch as he dug his spoon in and snapped off a piece of the tart, scooping a little cream and coulis. He popped it into his mouth and then to Luc’s surprise he closed his eyes and groaned.
‘That,’ he said, ‘is exquisite. The best strawberry tart I have ever tasted. What is in the crème patissière? The flavour is incredible.’
Fliss gave him a smug smile. ‘It’s champagne, of course.’
Alphonse rose to his feet and lifted his glass. ‘I salute you, Felicity. You win. You are a very fine chef. Thank you for an excellent meal.’
‘Thank you for the excellent bottle of champagne that is coming my way,’ said Fliss, preening shamelessly.
Solange and Yvette both frowned in confusion. Luc felt he ought to explain. ‘Alphonse made a bet with Fliss, and he’s just lost.’
Yvette snorted out a laugh. ‘Let me guess, he underestimated a woman again.’
Alphonse glowered at her.
Solange tutted. ‘I sometimes wonder when the two of you will grow up.’ She turned to Fliss. ‘It was a lovely meal. Thank you very much. Yvette and I need to talk about wedding arrangements at the restaurant – will you excuse us?’
After they’d left, Alphonse opened more wine and Fliss tracked down the proper balloon glasses she knew she’d seen somewhere. Luc pulled Hattie onto his lap.
‘Alone at last,’ he whispered into her neck, unable to resist the soft skin there. ‘It seems for ever since I kissed you.’
Hattie’s breath hitched as his mouth moved over hers and he smiled as she tried to pull him closer – or was it him, trying to get closer to her? When his tongue touched hers, his brain once again turned to mush. He loved the very bones of this woman. She might be wary given her previous history, and he didn’t want to frighten her off. He just needed to find the right moment to tell her.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Fliss was in the kitchen the following morning, her head resting on the table between her arms, which were flat on the wooden surface. She looked like a rag doll that had been draped there.
‘Morning,’ trilled Hattie, still very much full of the joys of spring and bloody good sex. As she’d said at the outset,Je suis ici to have some fun. She was worrying too much about things with Luc. From now on she was going to go with the flow. They were having fun.
‘Go away,’ groaned Fliss.
‘What time did you get to bed last night?’ asked Hattie. She and Luc had left Fliss and Alphonse drinking.
‘Three. Alphonse opened another bottle of wine. That man can drink.’
‘He’s a lot bigger than you.’
‘Mm,’ said Fliss a touch dreamily. ‘He’s all man.’ Hattie hid a smile.
‘Why don’t you go back to bed?’
Fliss sat bolt upright and then moaned and clutched her head. ‘I’m cooking with Solange this morning. We’re going to make choux pastry and freeze a hundred mini éclair cases for Yvette’s wedding party.’
‘Paracetamol?’
‘Good idea.’ She rubbed at her bleary eyes. ‘You had an early night. I didn’t even notice you go.’
‘No, you were too busy arguing with Alphonse.’
‘We weren’t arguing. I was telling him he was wrong. Honestly, the man is so narrow-minded, bull-headed and … and … annoying,’ she said, rising to her feet and pouring herself another coffee from the large cafetière on the side.
‘Who’s annoying?’ asked a loud voice. Hattie was convinced it was deliberately so. She turned to find Alphonse standing in the doorway, his hands wrapped in oven gloves, clutching a bright orange Le Creuset casserole pot.
Fliss sipped her coffee with a leisurely sigh. ‘A friend of ours,’ she said with studied casualness. ‘How are you this morning?’ and Hattie could see she dredged up every last crumb of acting skill to put on a brave face.
‘Je vais bien – et toi?’he said with a cheerful, over-bright grin.
Hattie wasn’t sure which of them was overdoing their forced nonchalance.
