Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss. Ellie Darkins
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“Thanks.” The word came out breathy, unsure. As she heard her voice she knew she had to do something, and now, if she was going to stop herself getting hurt. This had gone more than far enough already.
“It’s fine now,” she said, trying to pull her hand away. But Will kept a firm hold on it, using it to pull her fractionally closer, until her chest was pressed against him.
And then he froze. He dropped her hand and turned away from her, and she glimpsed his hard-set expression twisting into a grimace.
Relief and disappointment flooded Maya, and she leant back against the sink. She kept her eyes on the floor until she could look up at him with an indifferent expression.
“Let’s carry on,” she managed eventually.
For the first time she could remember she wished she wasn’t in her kitchen. She wished she could escape upstairs, hide away from this man and the dangerous effect he had on her. But she’d committed to help him, and she wouldn’t go back on her word.
Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss
Ellie Darkins
ELLIE DARKINS spent her formative years as a committed bookworm, devouring romance novels. After completing her English degree (which had Mills & Boon® novels on the syllabus!) she decided to make a living from her love of books. As a writer and freelance editor her work now entails dreaming up romantic proposals, hot dates with alpha males and trips to the past with dashing heroes.
When she’s not working she can usually be found manning the desk or sampling the coffee at her local library, or out for a run—listening to an audiobook, of course.
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For Betty
Contents
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EXTRACT
‘YOU ARE GOING to try this one.’
Maya Hartney forced the corners of her mouth up into a professional smile while she waited for Will Thomas to bite. Behind her back she clasped her hands to stop herself chewing at a nail.
She’d tried dozens of combinations of dishes for this tasting, even though squeezing in an extra job next month was pushing her business to its limits. But it had been impossible to say no when Rachel, Will’s assistant, had pleaded with her so earnestly to consider catering for an Appleby and Associates gala dinner.
These moments, waiting for a client to try one of her dishes, were nerve-racking but necessary. Once they’d taken a bite her nerves gave way to sheer pleasure. She loved to watch people enjoy her food. Ever since the first time it had happened, years ago, when she’d first cooked for her university housemates, it had given her a physical thrill. The joy that her food brought showed in the small smile people gave as they closed their eyes and savoured the taste for a moment. Now, ten years later, she lived and worked for that moment.
And she’d never had reason to doubt her food’s capacity for bringing joy. Until now.
Will Thomas had already refused to try her starter, and her flutter of nerves congealed into a lump of dejection as she realised he probably wouldn’t try this course either.
Maya swallowed awkwardly, thinking hard, wondering where she had gone wrong. Her late night last night had seemed worth it, if it meant she had this dish just right, but there must be something that she’d misjudged. She bit her lip for a second as she ran through the possibilities in her mind and her pulse picked up speed as she considered improvements she could make. Maybe the dressing was a little too acidic? But then he hadn’t even tried it, so he wouldn’t know that. It must be the presentation that needed more work. The rest of the meal would have to be perfect to get this pitch back on track.
It had nothing to do with the fact that her mouth had watered the first second she’d seen Will Thomas and he’d met her gaze with steel-grey eyes. It was because she’d felt the chill of his presence since the second he’d arrived, and her whole body had wanted her to resist it. To fill the room with light and colour so that the cold couldn’t take hold of her. She’d fought too hard against it to let it in now.
There wasn’t a splash of colour anywhere in the office: grey walls, grey carpet, glass table and black leather chairs. She’d not experienced a chill like this for ten years, and would be a happy woman if she never felt it again. There was colour in every part of her life these days, displacing cold grey memories; now this room threatened to undo a decade’s positive thinking.
When Will Thomas had walked in the room had suddenly made perfect sense. Charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, black hair with just a few flecks of silver at the temples. Grey eyes that bore an expression as clinical as their surroundings. Despite all this attraction had prickled at her skin, along with a warning, and she’d had to take a breath to steady herself.
His gaze had left his smartphone only briefly, dropped from her face to trace the