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‘Yes … but—’
‘I’ll stay out of your way.’
Yeah, right.
‘So how long’s a while? Long weekend?’
She shrugged and he caught her swallow. Not as sure of herself as he’d first thought. ‘What about work?’ Wouldn’t it be nice to just take off for a few days? ‘Won’t they be expecting you?’
She shook her head, amusement lighting up her face. ‘I don’t work.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ he muttered. In spite of himself he had to ask. ‘So what do you do all day if you don’t work?’
She drew herself taller. ‘I do loads of stuff. Go to fashion shows. Meet my friends. Go out to the theatre, exhibitions, shopping. We go to parties. Ski. I’m really busy. All the time.’
‘Nice life if you can get it,’ he observed dryly. ‘Not so much of that going on in Leighton Buzzard, I’m afraid.’ Which guaranteed she’d be bored and on a plane home within the next twenty-four hours.
She gave him a dazzling beam which almost knocked him for six. Christ, she might be bloody annoying but she was one hell of a babe.
‘Thanks Jason. You won’t know I’m here. I promise.’
He had a feeling, he might.
Taking her to the supermarket had seemed a brilliant idea. Ensure she bought her own meal for the night and stop her nicking his. What he hadn’t counted on was how long it took her.
As he stacked a six-pack of Becks in his basket, he looked around. Where had she got to? He was about done. Siena obviously went in for more complicated stuff. He’d left her for dust on the first aisle when she started feeling up peppers. Seriously? He wasn’t a complete philistine, he got the concept of five a day but did you need to check them out so carefully? This was supposed to be a smash and grab raid. Pizza. Beer. Pizza. More beer and a couple of ready-made shepherd’s pies and spag bols. And a shaving gel and deodorant periodically.
Turning back and re-tracing his route, he spotted her at the far end of the aisle in front of the refrigerated cheese cabinet. Her sodding basket empty. She stood there, looking too cute for her own good, attracting some excited second glances from two young guys who had suddenly developed a strong interest in the yoghurt section next to her.
Completely oblivious, Siena picked up different cheeses and read the labels, her head tilted to one side like an enquiring sparrow.
For crying out loud, why hadn’t it occurred to him? She probably couldn’t cook. Wouldn’t have a clue. This had been a complete waste of time. He strode down glaring at the two guys who suddenly decided that maybe yoghurt wasn’t their thing after all.
‘What are you doing?’ He shook his head. ‘Come here,’ he grabbed her elbow and firmly escorted her round the corner into the ready meals section. ‘Do you like pasta?’
‘Wow.’ She turned to him, her eyes wide. She looked like fricking Alice in Wonderland. ‘Look at all this.’ Shaking him off, she wandered along the aisle inspecting the packaging. ‘Four cheese sauce? Cannelloni? Barbecue pork noodles? Beef rib in ale?’ She turned to him, eyes alight with enthusiasm. ‘They’ve got everything. It’s amazing. I didn’t know you could buy it all ready-made like this.’
Jason bit back a retort. Probably never been in a supermarket before in her life.
‘Yeah, who knew?’
‘Gosh, I’ve never seen this before.’ She reached out her hand and picked up a plastic container of bolognese sauce.
He realised that her wonder had turned to amusement. ‘Doesn’t anyone in England know how to cook?’ She raised one eyebrow with a demure smile.
Typical Frog. Always thought they owned cooking. Hadn’t she heard of Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay?
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought her saw her mouth twitch. Was she having a laugh? She certainly looked amused but he wasn’t, far from it.
‘Plenty of people cook, but they might not have time, when they’re working.’ He said it with the emphasis on working. ‘Princess, I am starving. You ate my tea, remember? I want to go home and eat. Right now, I don’t care whether you live on bread and cheese or rice pudding but pick something to eat. I’m leaving.’
OK, so now he was being a complete bastard, but he was bloody starving and absolutely knackered having had less than five hours sleep in the last twenty-four. He was running on empty, and still had this bloody wine bar opening thing to go to, while madam looked as cool as a cucumber and was quite probably laughing at him. It pushed too many buttons. ‘I suggest you get your sweet little arse into gear and get a move on, otherwise I’ll leave you here.’
With a cheeky smile, she looked over her shoulder down at her backside. ‘Do you think so? Thanks.’
He gritted his teeth. Giving into the overwhelming sense of sheer exasperation he made a deep guttural noise in his throat at her and stomped off, the basket swinging painfully into his shins.
‘I growled at her. Physically growled.’ He rested his forehead on the edge of the kitchen table. What the hell had got into him? He prided himself on a bit of sophistication, even if he was now, to all intents and purposes, a manual labourer.
‘And then I felt guilty. So when she asked what I was doing this evening …’
Ben sniggered, snorting out some of the lager he’d swigged from the bottle. ‘Seriously. You growled. At a chick?’
They were sitting in the kitchen waiting for Siena to come down. He knew as soon as he’d uttered the words, ‘You’re welcome to come too,’ which he hadn’t meant at all, that he’d strayed into foolish, downright stupid territory. That’s what lack of sleep and lack of food did to your brain. And now they were still waiting for her to emerge from her room. Yup he really, really regretted opening his mouth.
‘Chick? Her? She’s Barbie to the power of ten. Seriously. It’s like she’s been beamed down from planet airhead.’
‘So how long’s she staying with you?’
‘She’s not staying with me. She came to see her sister. She’s leaving tomorrow. It won’t take long for her to realise Leighton Buzzard can’t match the entertainment of Paris.’
Tonight’s wine bar opening was possibly the most exciting thing that had happened this year. He realised he was pulling faces.
‘Really got under your skin, this one,’ observed Ben.
‘No. She’s just very …’ Jason motioned wringing her neck with his fingers, ‘irritating.’
‘Like that Shakespeare bloke said, you complain too much.’
Jason cocked a very surprised eyebrow. Ben was a great lad and his talents in fixing mechanical faults on the bottling line and washing out pipes couldn’t be faulted but it took all of his literacy skills to manage to read The Sun as far as page three. Quoting the bard seemed rather out of character.
‘The original quote was protest—’
‘Perzactly. You’re protesting, so it means you fancy her really.’
‘How do you figure that?’
‘Mate, you haven’t stopped talking about her since I got here. You don’t even talk about Claire this much and you’re shagging her.’
Jason wasn’t about to correct Ben’s blithe assumptions. He knew he was sleepwalking into a relationship and he ought to nip things in the bud but at least Claire was relatively low maintenance and had her own place. Unfortunately, she seemed very good at engineering things so that from the outside it appeared as if there was more going on than there was. So far it was OK but at some point he was going to have make it clear he wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship.
He wanted a nice easy life. Work, come home, eat, go to the pub. Watch a bit of football at the weekend. And that was the way it was going to stay. He was not going to worry about anyone else’s problems. Siena was Laurie’s problem. Not his. His phone buzzed. A text from Claire. Where are you? We’re here.
Ben’s phone buzzed almost a second later.
‘Mate, she’d better get a move on. There’s free food there. I don’t want to miss out.’
‘I thought you’d eaten. Scrub that.’ Stupid observation. Ben could eat his body weight in carbs and still go back for seconds. Lean and muscled, which came in handy, he used up a lot of energy, with his regular rugby training and playing for the local team every weekend.
‘At la—’ the words died in his throat and he heard Ben mutter, ‘Holy fuck.’
Siena appeared in the doorway, rippling blonde hair, ten foot long sooty lashes, skin tight jeans which accentuated every inch of her legs that seemed to go on forever and a top that, while it wasn’t particularly low cut, certainly made sure you couldn’t miss how perfect her boobs were. Which he knew were perfect because he’d seen them for real, not so very long ago. For a minute he thought he’d swallowed his tongue. Jeez she packed a powerful punch, as did the perfume that filled the air around her. His groin threatened to give him away.
On high, high heels, which added a sashay to her walk, she came into the kitchen, a wide smile showing off perfect, Daz-white teeth that any American cheerleader would be proud to own.
Ben had clearly died and gone to heaven and he hadn’t even seen her naked. There was absolutely nothing subtle about the unabashed admiration shining in his eyes.
‘Siena, this is Ben. He’s an idiot. He works with me.’ Jason gave him a sharp jab in the ribs.
Ignoring him completely, she stepped forward and with what he felt was unconscious charm, politely held out a petite hand, tipped in some dark purpley colour.
‘Hi Ben.’ She smiled up at him and he smiled goofily back.
‘Hi Siena.’ His meaty fingers dwarfed her hand as he shook enthusiastically for at least ten seconds too long. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘And you. What do you with Jason? He hasn’t told me much.’
She shot him an amused look. In the face of her flawless manners, he felt like some uncouth lout.
‘We make beer.’ Ben seemed totally hypnotised like some dopey cartoon character. Man, it was pitiful.
‘Brew beer,’ snapped Jason and then regretted it. Ben might not be the sharpest tool in the box but he was a damn good worker, kind-hearted and mostly harmless. Certainly not someone you’d want getting caught up with the likes of Siena. ‘Right. Shall we go?’
They trooped out of the kitchen, Siena in the lead.
‘Put your tongue away.’ Jason muttered into Ben’s ear. The stupid boy turned around and grinned. Jason shook his head. Oh God, she would chew him up and spit him out as a slight aperitif. Ben was a good-looking lad, and as a local rugby hero had plenty of fans of his own, but he was not rich enough for Siena’s blood. Any man she went out with would have to have a billionaire bank balance; Ben definitely didn’t fall into that category. Neither did Jason, thankfully. But he didn’t want her deciding to amuse herself with someone during her brief stay.
Siena would rather have died than admit to anyone how long it had taken her to step out of the bedroom and go downstairs. When she’d heard the two deep voices downstairs, her nerve had almost failed her. She found Jason’s grumpy disapproval disconcerting. It seemed as if everything she did annoyed him and she had no idea why.
At home she knew everyone, knew what to expect. For the first time in her life she felt horribly out of depth. What if Jason’s friends didn’t like her either? What if they were all like him? She’d only said yes to his invitation to the wine bar because she’d been a bit bored today. At home, she could always go down to the kitchens and chat to Agnes or the other members of staff.
Now as they walked into the wine bar, she could let some of the tension go. What a relief that Ben had been so sweet. At least she could talk to him all night, and this bar was lovely. You could almost imagine you were in London or Paris. She didn’t like to admit it but what she’d seen of the town so far hadn’t lived up to what she’d imagined. Luckily this place was more what she was used to. The décor reminded her of a place in Monaco, although without the presence of Johnny Depp or Cameron Diaz.
‘Jay, over here.’
A tall blond guy with a scrubby ponytail hailed them from the bar and Jason led the way over to a fabulous Perspex bar which sparkled with embedded crystals. Fascinated, Siena reached out to touch it, probably Swarovski.
‘Isn’t it gorge?’ The petite girl who had bounded over to give Ben a big hug and greet Jason with a brief kiss on the cheek, all the while managing to studiously ignore the blond man, grinned at Siena.
‘It’s amazing,’ agreed Siena.
‘The whole place is amazing. Not very Leighton at all. I love it.’
‘Pretentious if you ask me,’ said the blond guy, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the other girl.
No tension there then, thought Siena watching the body language between the two of them.
Around her the group exchanged hellos, hugs and kisses until Ben came to her rescue.
‘Guys, this is Siena.’ Ben put his arm round her and pushed her forward into the group moving away from the bar as he made the announcement. Siena almost giggled, he made it sound as if he’d made some huge discovery. Then as all eyes turned his way, he flushed pink and rattled off a series of names with the speed of a machine gun. ‘Lisa. Claire. Will. Katie. Tom.’
‘Ben!’ admonished the friendly girl. ‘Hi Siena. I’m Lisa. This is Claire.’ She pointed to a girl in black jeans with a blonde bob, ‘Katie.’ Siena quickly registered blue jeans, pink silky shirt. ‘Tom.’ He winked. Clearly Katie’s boyfriend from the way his hand casually rested on her hip.
Lisa’s mouth tightened fractionally. ‘And that’s Will.’ She inclined her head towards the blond guy who had turned to talk to the barman
‘Nice to meet you.’ As she said the words, Siena realised that in Lisa’s case she actually meant them. The bubbly woman, with her sparkling eyes and wide mouth seemed to want to put Siena at her ease without asking or wanting to know anything more.
‘Wow,’ Lisa’s eyes widened as she looked downwards. ‘OMG. If I knew you better I’d be down on my knees kissing those babies. Your boots are awesome. Where did you get them? Oh God, I bet they were really expensive, weren’t they?’
‘Not really. A couple of hundred euros.’ Siena shrugged and smiled. She couldn’t actually remember. At home no one ever asked that sort of question. For a second she had that stepping out on ice feeling, wondering whether it would hold up or if cracks would radiate out from where she stood.
‘Of course, darling. So you bought two pairs,’ drawled Claire.
Siena felt herself blush. She had actually. She particularly liked this pair of Gianvito Rossi two-tone fringed ankle boots, so had bought them in the other colour.
Lisa frowned at Claire. ‘They’re absolutely lush.’
‘Thank you.’ Siena smiled back. Compliments she could handle.
‘Where did you get them, then if you paid euros? Not that I could afford them. They’re so nice.’ Lisa stretched out her hand as if she wanted to touch them.
‘Paris.’ And even saying that had her praying the ice would hold up.
‘Paris.’ Claire rolled her eyes. ‘Gosh, how the other half live. Pop over to buy shoes, do you?’
‘I’d love to go to Paris,’ said Katie hurriedly and then looked at Tom. ‘Not hinting. Definitely not hinting. No need to worry that I’m expecting you to whisk me off for a romantic weekend.’
‘We can go to Paris,’ said Tom with a cheeky grin. ‘Two months’ time when England plays France in the Six Nations.’
‘Ha, ha.’ Katie smiled and Tom pulled her towards him and kissed her neck.
Siena looked away, unused to the display of open, easy, affection.
‘So how do you know Ben?’ asked Lisa with a friendly smile, tossing her tawny blonde hair over her shoulder, her eyes guileless.
‘I don’t really.’ The other girl’s warmth was irresistible. Siena definitely wasn’t in France any more. Normally newbies on the block were circled like prey. Weighed up in whispers as their credentials were checked out. Subjected to a gamut of interrogative conversations full of nuance and ultra-polite queries. Lisa’s uncompromising acceptance made her feel warm and funny inside.
‘I met him tonight.’
‘Quick mover,’ Tom chipped in, nudging Ben. ‘Nice work mate.’
‘She’s with Jason,’ explained Ben shaking his head and mock punching Tom’s arm. He inclined his head towards Jason who had finished talking to Will at the bar and had come to join the group. ‘Staying at his place.’
‘Really?’ The girl called Claire managed to get plenty of loaded inference into the one word.
Jason’s lips tightened into the forbidding expression she was rapidly becoming used to. ‘Siena is my landlady’s sister. She’s here for the weekend.’ He gave Siena a pointed look.
He didn’t need to sound quite so pissed off about it. Good job she hadn’t told him how long she planned to stay. Laurie was bound to be OK with it. When they’d talked before about Siena’s dream of studying fashion design, her sister had been so encouraging.
