Christmas with Dr Delicious

‘You overheard me talking to Jay yesterday.’ And she’d have to find a tooth to put under her pillow for the fairy.

‘But if you’re not into lager then I’ve got this.’ In his other hand was a bottle of very good Chardonnay. ‘Not knowing what you drink these days, I’m covering my options.’

‘You need me on side that much? Is this where you tell me why you didn’t turn up for our wedding?’ Gripping the edge of the door, she held herself upright through sheer determination. She’d wanted to know this for ever and yet now she shook with nerves. She could learn bad stuff that would shatter her carefully restored confidence.

‘Nik, let me in.’ His tone was gentle. ‘Please.’

Every time he called her Nik she softened towards him. Did he know that? Was that why he used her pet name? Sucking in her stomach and straightening her back, she waved him inside and shut the door. Shut Fraser inside with her. Too late to say no now. She breathed in the tang of lime aftershave and regretted her capitulation. Anything to do with Fraser always became too hard too quickly. So much for remaining calm, aloof, non-involved. It wasn’t possible whenever he came near.

So she would hear him out and move on. Then maybe she’d even manage to be happy working with him. As she pushed past him in the narrow hall, her arm slid over his, but she clamped down on the instant surge of longing that contact brought.

A strong burning smell. ‘The risotto,’ she screeched, and raced into the kitchen to snatch the deep pan off the gas ring. ‘Great, there goes my dinner.’

Fraser peered around her at the risotto. ‘Can’t you lift off the top layer carefully? It’ll only be burned on the bottom.’ His tongue did a lap of his lips. ‘It looks damned good from here.’

She raised her gaze to glare at him. ‘Help yourself.’

A wee smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. ‘You’re not afraid I’ll tell everyone you served me burned food? That could ruin your reputation as a great cook.’

‘If you’re talking about the gang at work they’ll ignore you for fear they won’t get their weekly quota of homemade cakes and biscuits.’

‘True. The way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach.’ Fraser put down the wine and beer and scooped up a mouthful of risotto with the wooden spoon.

She watched as the spoon slipped into his mouth, saw his tongue clear the rice off the wooden surface. She leant against the bench for support. For the second time in two days desire spread through her like wildfire, heating her in long-chilled places, suffocating her in need. Heaven help her, it was only paella, and yet the guy made it the sexiest food out.

‘Divine. A little smoky but absolutely delicious.’ He took another spoonful, his eyes rolling and that tentative smile growing.

Resignedly, Nikki found a plate and a fork, handed them to him. ‘Help yourself.’ Tugging a bottle from the six pack, she twisted the cap off and took a long, cold drink. It cooled her throat, but nothing else. Why had she opened her front door so wide and invited Fraser in? This had not been what she’d expected, this deep need clawing its way down her body, teasing her, taunting her.

Bang. The bottom of the bottle cracked on the bench as she put it down. ‘Come on, let’s get this over with.’ Her voice came out light and squeaky. Clearing her throat, she tried again. ‘Why are you here, Fraser?’

The fork that had been about to slide into his mouth stopped, held still as Fraser studied her frankly, closely, for a long time. Like he was looking for something.