For His Little Girl. Lucy Gordon
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might have been a lot worse, Pippa realized. As it was, she’d had a welcome better than her brightest hopes, even if it was because she was saving his skin. That reference to “my family” had been for Dominique’s benefit of course, but it had been just what Josie needed to hear.
Luke returned, smiling, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Let me look at you. Oh, Pippa, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“So I gathered,” she teased.
“No, not just because of that. After all this time you’re just—just my Pippa.”
“Hey, what am I?” Josie demanded indignantly.
“You’re my best girl,” he said at once, and hugged her. “Now, first things first. Coffee, then the hotel.”
“I’m hungry,” Josie declared.
“Josie!” Pippa exclaimed. “Manners!”
“Of course she’s hungry,” Luke said. “Milk and strawberry salad.”
“You can’t put strawberries in a salad,” Josie protested.
“You can, chez Luke.”
Josie looked puzzled, and he explained, “Chez means at the home of. It’s French. I use it when I want to impress people.”
“You said milk,” Josie reminded him in the accents of a starving orphan.
“Coming up!”
While he was finding the milk and pouring it for her, Bertha returned to say the room was ready. Pippa slipped away with her, while Luke got to work on the strawberry salad, collecting strawberries, raspberry vinegar, mint and lettuce.
“This is a concoction of Luke of the Ritz,” he declared, lining up a selection of other fruits like a general inspecting his troop. “Sour cream,” he added briskly. “That cupboard over there.”
Josie moved fast and brought the cream, just right.
“Now some honey. That one.”
She repeated the action, practically standing to attention when she’d delivered the honey.
“Who was Luke of the Ritz?” she asked. “You?”
“No, but I nearly was. Can you open that door next to the sink, please?” She did so, and he took out his electric blender.
“Why nearly?”
“Because your mommy thought people would die laughing. She was right, too.” As he spoke he was washing the strawberries, then preparing to stem and halve them.
“I can do that,” Josie said, taking a knife.
“Hey, no! That’s too sharp for you.” But he fell silent as he saw how efficiently she got to work. “Done it before, huh?”
“I help in the kitchen at home. Mummy says don’t touch sharp knives, but I can handle them, so I do, anyway.”
“Guess you do,” he murmured, watching the neat little fingers flying and recalling another child who’d done what he wanted rather than what his mother said. “And what does she say about that?”
“Well—” Josie stopped for a moment to consider “—she starts to say things like, ‘Do as I tell you,’ and ‘Josie, did you hear me?’ But then Jake puts his head around the door and says, ‘Hey, Pip, I’m on early shift. Is it ready yet?’ Or Harry gets upset because he’s lost something important. Harry’s always losing things that he says are important. Or Paul comes in covered in axle grease—Paul restores old cars—or Derek—”
“Whoa, hold on there! Who are all these guys?”
“They’re our boarders, only they’re friends, as well. They’re all terribly fond of Mummy. I’ve done all the strawberries. What’s next?”
“Lettuce. Give it a good wash.”
While she washed he got out some china plates, then she arranged lettuce leaves while he puréed some of the strawberries.
“Now for the honey, mint and sour cream,” he declared dramatically, just as he did on his show.
But it wasn’t the camera fixing its gaze on him, or the audience crowding the benches, laughing at his well-rehearsed but so spontaneous-seeming flourishes. It was a cheeky little girl with laughing eyes, regarding him with her head on one side, exactly as another girl had done once before. It gave him a strange turn.
In fact, everything about today was strange. Only a few hours ago he’d awoken next to a beautiful model, the ultimate bachelor’s dream. Suddenly he was a father. Okay, Okay, he’d been a father for years, but until this moment he hadn’t felt like a father. Now he did. And it felt good. Every man should have a daughter, he reckoned, especially one with long, curly red hair, a cheeky grin and her mother’s air of challenging everyone.
Once again Luke Danton had gotten lucky. The world’s goodies had fallen into his lap, just the way they always did. And again, as always, he was grateful.
Luke’s bathroom was modern luxury made to look like Victorian basic: white tiles on the walls, dark-red and brown decorative tiles on the floor, and glowing brass fixtures. The effect was sumptuous.
After splashing water on her face Pippa sat down while she dried herself, and took long breaths. She’d cleared the first hurdle. It had been tough, but she’d coped. She’d gotten over Luke long ago, but it was never going to be easy seeing him again, being physically close to him. Luke wasn’t just a handsome face, or charm personified, although he was both those things. He was a body that she still remembered during her lonely nights and a vibrant presence and warm, laughing eyes.
He might have been dismayed to see her, and she’d braced herself for that. But nothing had prepared her for the welcome she’d received, even if she did know that Luke was being practical. Being hugged close to him was unnerving, but she would get over that. She had come here for Josie’s sake, and that was all that mattered.
She took a few more deep breaths, and when she felt better she returned to the kitchen where Luke was dishing up. She was suitably impressed by the creation.
“One hundred and twenty calories, and four grams of fat,” he explained. “I add that bit automatically now. People always seem to want to know.”
“And it’s delicious,” Josie said blissfully. “Mummy, why don’t we have strawberry salad?”
“Oh, sure,” Pippa said wryly, “I can see Jake and Harry eating strawberry salad. If it doesn’t have chips and fried bacon they doesn’t want to know.” She assumed an attitude. “‘Hey, Pip, I’ve got a fourteen-hour shift. A man needs something to keep him going, know what I mean?”’
“Fourteen hours?” Luke echoed.
“Jake’s just qualified as a doctor,” Pippa explained. “Which means he lectures the rest of us about healthy eating and stuffs himself with stodge.”
It was Josie who finished first, devouring Luke’s helping as well as her own, then hopped up and down impatiently until they were ready to go to the hotel for the bags. For the short journey she sat in the back of Luke’s Porsche, eyes popping at everything she saw. Luke and Pippa were together in the front.
“I still can’t get my head around this,” he said.
“You mean I shouldn’t have come?” she asked quickly.
“No, I love surprises. And you were an answer to a prayer.”
“Yes, I could see. What would you have done without me?”
“Lord knows,” he said with a shudder. “But I didn’t mean that. I meant you. You always did things without warning, like a firecracker. It’s great to know you haven’t changed.”
“Well, perhaps I should have changed by now. I’m eleven