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The warmth of the fire began to weave ribbons of comfort around her limbs and seep into her bones. The crackling of the logs and the rhythmic, flickering flames were mesmerizing. She stared unblinking into its depths as tiny tumbles of ash dribbled from the grate to the hearth like silver confetti.
She relaxed into the crumpled leather sofa – one of a pair perfectly placed at right angles to the wood burner, separated by a pale blue, geometric-patterned rug more befitting a New York loft than a Caribbean lodge. Millie couldn’t prevent a giggle from escaping her lips.
‘What?’ asked Zach, handing her a mug laced with a tot of rum.
‘It’s just that I expected the floor coverings to be animal skins – you know, with a bear or a tiger’s head? But perhaps not – that would have interfered with the smooth lines of the pared-back “hunter’s paradise” theme you’re working here.’
‘Just because I work outdoors doesn’t mean I have to live in a scuzzy hut! As a matter of fact, Messy Millie, I can’t stand the domestic turmoil you seem to thrive in. I need to know where everything is. It’s good karma to be organized – it frees up brain space for the important things in life.’
‘And what are they?’
Millie realised she knew very little about the man who had prepared freshly ground coffee like a professional alchemist. He continually surprised her – she’d expected instant Nescafé. Now that she had the time to study him in his home environment, she saw how attractive he was with his ebony hair, neatly teased into spikes, his jawline smooth and stubble free, and the thickest of liquorice-coloured eyelashes.
‘Well, ensuring the smooth running of the estate for a start. Nature needs to be constantly tamed otherwise chaos will reign. It’s a never-ending task – there’s always something to do. Usually I’m out of the door at six a.m. and not back until dusk.’
‘So have you always worked in estate management?’ Millie asked, sipping her coffee, anxious to avoid the elephant in the room for as long as possible.
‘I love working outdoors. When I was growing up, I spent every waking hour with my brother down at the local beck, damming up the stream with rocks and branches – proper pair of little beavers we were. I could name every species of bird and every variety of plant before I was eight years old. But when I was ten Mum and Dad moved to London so Dad could take up a management position at one of the largest international law firms in the capital.’
Millie saw Zach’s jaw tighten and his eyes drop, his face a mask belying the intensity of his pain. ‘It must have been tough to leave the countryside for the urban sprawl of London. Leaving all your friends behind.’ Something she totally understood.
‘It was particularly hard on Mum at first. But Dad’s new job paid well. We lived in a large Victorian terrace in Pimlico and his firm subsidized my and my brother Callum’s school fees. What we lost in freedom we gained in academic excellence. Mum settled eventually, though. She adored the West End theatres, even landed a few regular roles as an extra in a couple of hospital dramas and sitcoms. But she worked mainly as a legal secretary and later on as a paralegal.’
‘And are your parents still in London?’
‘Dad is. With his new girlfriend. One of the solicitors in his law firm – twenty years his junior. Mum was devastated when she found out about his infidelity, but she refused to take on the role of the pitied, scorned partner. So she moved back to rural Oxfordshire.’ Zach swallowed the last sip of coffee and grimaced at the bitter taste.
‘So have you worked for Tim and Claudia since university?’ Millie pressed, wondering if his answer would provide an insight into his obsessive craving for neatness, his compelling need for order in all aspects of his life.
‘Yes. I leapt at the chance when the position of estate manager at their Cotswolds manor house became vacant. Spending every working day in the fresh air is as close to career satisfaction as you can get. When Claudia told me about their plans to offer archery classes as well as quad bike and Segway trekking to the Cotswold Cookery School students, it was a done deal.’
‘Do you think they’ll extend the same activities to the Paradise Cookery School students?’
‘Definitely. In fact, I plan to offer a couple of taster sessions on the quad bikes to the guys whilst the women enjoy theChocolate & Confetticourse next week. Claudia and Tim are hoping the plantation will take off as wedding venue too.’
‘Well, it’s certainly a fairy-tale setting.’
‘I thought you’d say that. Yes, there’s obviously an abundance of sunshine, swaying palm trees, golden beaches, and as much rum punch as you can sail a yacht in. Itisa paradise, but believe it or not, some people adore the Cotswolds or the Lake District or the Scottish Highlands. Those are their dream wedding locations – some couples even want to get hitched in a yurt under a canopy of stars. It’s romantic. Heard of that concept?’
‘Of course I’ve heard of romance! Actually, the French are masters of romance and love!’
Zach held her eyes and her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. They had arrived at the point in their conversation where she spilled out the whole sorry story, not only of her date with Jake, but what had happened with Luke. Zach had been open and honest about his life whilst they sheltered in the little wooden hut on the slopes of the Pitons, but she had chickened out. She couldn’t do that again.
In fact, she didn’t want to.
She was looking forward to sharing her past with him – warts and all. She had never experienced such a barrage of intense emotion as she was experiencing at that moment, not with Luke or anyone else before him, and she felt alive for the first time in years. She curled her legs under her bottom, hugged her mug to her chest and launched into an abridged version of the shambles she had made of her life to date.
‘The reason I was so upset about Jake abandoning me at the restaurant was because it’s not the first time I’ve been summarily ditched. It felt like history was repeating itself, but of course, my date with Jake was nothing like what happened with Luke.’
She paused as the whole episode came rushing back at her with a vengeance and it took her several seconds to gather the courage to continue, unsurprised that when she finally spoke, her voice sounded as though it belonged to someone else.
‘Six months ago, at the beginning of April, my boyfriend, sorry, my soon-to-be fiancé, broke off our engagement. Oh, he didn’t break the news face to face or in a phone call, or even by text. No, he just didn’t turn up at our engagement party so I had to endure the humiliation of being dumped in front of all our friends and family. I didn’t see it coming and was devastated. When I eventually managed to speak to him to ask him why, he told me that he had met someone else.’
Millie gulped down a mouthful of her now-cold coffee and stared into the embers of the wood-burning stove. She couldn’t look at Zach, didn’t want to see the pity on his face.
‘It was a nightmare because we co-managed a Michelin-starred restaurant in Oxford. At first I thought that he should be the one to leave. After all, it had been his choice to cheat on me and throw our future away. But when I discovered the identity of the other woman, there was no way I could stay – not at the restaurant, not even in Oxford.’
‘Why not?’
