His Darling Valentine

She looked at him in exasperation. ‘Mr Valentine—’

‘Tazzy Darling?’ he came back blandly, dark brows raised in innocent query.

Her exasperation deepened. Not that she wasn’t used to her surname being the butt of jokes, had been teased about it unmercilessly ever since she’d first started school; it was just that she wasn’t used to her employer resorting to such inanity.

‘Miss Darling will do,’ she said impatiently. ‘I—’ She broke off as a knock sounded on her office door, Ross’s housekeeper opening the door seconds later to admit the man who accompanied her.

At least, Tazzy presumed it was a man. It was a little hard to tell when he—she?—was carrying the hugest bouquet of red roses Tazzy had ever seen in her life!

‘The gentleman has instructions to deliver the roses personally,’ Mrs Brown, the housekeeper, explained apologetically.

Tazzy turned accusing eyes on Ross Valentine; she knew that he dated occasionally, but none of those women seemed to last very long—which begged the question, which one of them had sent him this huge bouquet of red roses for Valentine’s Day? Honestly, it was totally out of—

‘Miss Darling?’ the delivery man prompted as he looked at her hopefully.

Tazzy turned slowly to look at the man, her tone wary as she answered him. ‘Yes …?’

The man nodded his satisfaction with her answer. ‘Then these are for you.’ He placed the bouquet into her unresisting arms. ‘Whoever he is, he must have it real bad!’ he added, giving a knowing wink in Tazzy’s direction before departing the room, Mrs Brown following behind him.

Tazzy didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Could only stare at what had to be dozens of deep red roses in her arms.

There had to have been some sort of mistake. These flowers couldn’t possibly be for her. She never received roses, on Valentine’s Day, or any other day.

But thinking of Valentine …

She glanced across at her employer, a blush warming her cheeks as she saw he was looking straight back at her, dark brows raised in a question.

That look was enough to shake Tazzy out of the daze she had lapsed into on being presented with the red roses. ‘I think there must have been some mistake, and these were meant for you.’ She grimaced as she held out the flowers to him.

Ross shook his head, making no effort to take the blood-red blooms from her. ‘He distinctly said they were for Miss Darling, and as we both know that’s you …’ He strolled over to pluck out the white card that nestled amongst the roses. ‘“To Anastasia. Much love,”’ he read out. ‘No, they’re definitely for you, Tazzy.’ He grinned teasingly. ‘As the man said, someone’s got it bad,’ he added with an appreciative glance at the dozens of roses.

To Anastasia. Much love …

The card attached to the kitten earlier this morning had read, ‘To Anastasia. With love.’ The messages were so similar that it was impossible not to wonder if the kitten and the roses hadn’t been sent to her by the same person. But if so, who could that person be?

She had no idea!

She really didn’t. Oh, several of the men she had met while travelling with Ross had flirted with her or paid her compliments, but she was certain that none of them knew her name was Anastasia.

The postman occasionally paid her a compliment when she went to the door to collect the mail from him, as did the young man from the courier service they habitually used, but as there had to be at least fifty red roses here, delivered on Valentine’s Day too, Tazzy would hazard a guess at such an extravagant gesture of love being out of either of their financial leagues. No, she really had no idea who could have sent them to her.

Neither did she appreciate their being delivered here at her place of work, in front of Ross, of all people; on today’s evidence he was going to believe there was someone serious in her life!

‘Have you been holding out on me, Miss Darling?’ Ross’s next words seemed to confirm that particular worry. ‘You aren’t thinking of leaving me in order to get married, by any chance?’ he asked.

‘Certainly not!’ Tazzy dropped the roses down onto her desktop as if she had been pricked by one of their thorns. ‘I think someone must be playing a practical joke on me,’ she excused lamely.

‘An expensive practical joke,’ Ross disagreed with a shake of his head. ‘No, Tazzy—Miss Darling,’ he corrected himself as she gave him a pointed look, ‘I think you should look at the distinct possibility that you have a secret admirer.’ He lightly touched one of the velvety soft flowers.

Then whoever it was had kept it such a secret that she didn’t have a clue as to who it could possibly be!

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped, deciding that office protocol had been broken enough for one day. ‘I have some work to do,’ she added pointedly when Ross still made no effort to leave but continued to look at her speculatively.

‘I think, Miss Darling,’ he finally murmured consideringly, ‘that you and I ought to have lunch together today in order to discuss the possibility of someone stealing you away from me, don’t you?’

She glared at him. ‘I told you, there is nothing to discuss!’

Ross shook his head. ‘I disagree.’

Oh, great, not only did she not know who was indulging in these ridiculous Valentine pranks, but now she had to try and explain it to her employer!

She gave a heavy sigh. ‘I’ll ask Mrs Brown to make us both some sandwiches.’ It would be far from the first time Tazzy had worked through her lunch-hour.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Tazzy gave a puzzled frown. ‘You would prefer me to ask her to prepare something else?’ A cooked lunch would save her the problem of cooking for herself this evening when she got home. In view of the fact that she had to do something about the kitten, that arrangement could work out quite well.

Ross smiled as he shook his head. ‘I would prefer it if we went out somewhere to eat. What’s the name of that little place you occasionally go to with that friend of yours—Anne, isn’t it?—that sometimes calls for you here?’

‘Luigi’s?’ Tazzy supplied with a frown.

‘That’s the place!’ His smile deepened. ‘We’ll go there for lunch.’

For one thing, Luigi’s was a small Italian bistro, hardly the sort of place Ross usually frequented, with his accumulated wealth and preference for French cuisine. For another, she did not relish the idea of going there with Ross only to bump into her friend Anne—who did go to Luigi’s often. Knowing Anne, she would demand to know all the details the next time the two of them met! What was wrong with Mrs Brown’s cooking anyway? It had always been good enough before!

Then she remembered …

‘Have you forgotten what day it is today?’ she reminded Ross.

‘That would be a little difficult, wouldn’t it, when your office is full of red roses?’ He gave the long-stemmed blooms a pointed look.

Tazzy felt the warmth in her cheeks. ‘Hardly full,’ she said, shifting the bouquet to one side of her desk. ‘I was actually trying to point out to you that there is no way we will get a table at Luigi’s for lunch today. He was fully booked weeks ago.’

‘He was?’ Ross looked startled by this information.

Tazzy found it quite endearing that it obviously hadn’t even occurred to him that almost all restaurants would be fully booked today, both at lunchtime and this evening; apparently he had never tried to take anyone out to lunch on Valentine’s Day before!

‘Okay, forget Luigi’s,’ Ross dismissed impatiently.

Tazzy nodded. ‘Shall I ask Mrs Brown to get us both a sandwich, after all?’

‘Certainly not!’ he said firmly. ‘I invited you out to lunch, and out we will most definitely go.’

‘But—’

‘Leave it to me,’ Ross interrupted. ‘I’ll book us a table somewhere for lunch.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You will?’