Her Secret Pregnancy. Sharon Kendrick

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СКАЧАТЬ place had changed out of all recognition. When Donna had worked there it had been during the chintz era, when everything had been tucked and swagged and covered with tiny sprigs of flowers.

      But Marcus had clearly moved with the times. The carpet had disappeared and so had the chintz. Now there were bare, beautifully polished wood floorboards and simple curtains at the vast windows. The furniture had been kept to a minimum, and it looked simple and comfortable rather than in-your-face opulent. Definitely no overstuffed sofas!

      Donna remembered how overwhelmed she’d felt the very first time she’d walked in through those doors. It had been like entering another world. But she’d been just eighteen then—nine years and a lifetime ago.

      She walked up to the reception desk on which sat a giant glass bowl containing scented flowers. The fleshy white lips of the lilies were gaping open, surrounded by spiky green foliage which looked like swords. It was an exquisite and sexy arrangement, but then Marcus had always had exquisite taste.

      The receptionist looked up. ‘Can I help you, madam?’

      ‘Yes, hello—I have a table booked for lunch,’ smiled Donna.

      ‘Your name, please?’

      ‘It’s King. Donna King.’ Her voice sounded unnaturally loud, and she half expected Marcus to jump out of the shadows to bar her way. ‘And I’m meeting a Mr Tony Paxman.’

      The receptionist was running her eyes down a list, and ticked off Donna’s name before she looked up again.

      ‘Ah, yes. Mr Paxman has already arrived.’ She gave Donna a look of polite enquiry. ‘Have you ever eaten at The New Hampshire before?’

      Donna shook her head. ‘No.’

      She’d made beds and cleaned out baths and sinks in the rooms upstairs, and had worked her way through some of the more delicious leftovers which had found their way back to the kitchen. And just once she’d eaten with the rest of the staff in the private function room upstairs, when Marcus had been jubilantly celebrating a glowing newspaper review.

      Donna swallowed down that particular memory. But she’d certainly never eaten a full meal in the fabulous restaurant.

      ‘No, I haven’t.’

      ‘Then I’ll get someone to show you to your table.’

      Donna followed one of the waiters, determined not to feel intimidated, telling herself that she’d worked and eaten in places just like this all over the world.

      Yet her heart was still racing with anticipation that she might see him, and she wondered why.

      Because she was over Marcus.

      She had been for years.

      The restaurant was already almost full and Tony Paxman rose to his feet as she approached. ‘I was beginning to think you’d stood me up!’

      ‘Oh, ye of little faith!’ she joked, smiling up at the waiter, who was hovering attentively. ‘Some house champagne, please. We’re celebrating!’

      ‘Certainly, madam.’

      Tony Paxman waited until he was on his second glass before remarking obscurely, ‘Let’s hope you’ll still have something to celebrate six months down the line.’

      The bubbles inside her mouth burst. ‘Meaning?’

      He shrugged. ‘Just that Marcus Foreman won’t exactly be overjoyed when he finds out that you’re opening up a new restaurant in the same town.’

      ‘Oh?’ Donna slid a green olive into her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. ‘Everyone knows he has an awesome reputation in the catering industry—surely he’s man enough to take a little honest competition?’

      ‘I should imagine he’s man enough for most things,’remarked Tony Paxman drily. ‘Just maybe not in the very same street.’

      Donna placed the olive stone in a small dish in front of her. ‘Anyway, I’m hardly going to be a serious rival, am I? Think about it—his hotel only serves afternoon tea to its residents.’

      ‘True. But what if they start coming to you instead?’

      Donna shrugged. ‘It’s a free country, and there is always room for excellence.’ She gave a huge smile as she lifted her glass in a toast. ‘So may the best man win!’

      ‘Or woman?’ Tony murmured.

      Donna looked down the menu, spoilt for choice. ‘Let’s order, shall we? I’m starving!’

      ‘Sounds good. Then you can tell me your life story.’ He frowned. ‘You know, your hair is the most amazing golden-red colour. I bet you used to dress up as a princess when you were a little girl!’

      ‘No, I was the one with the long face, wearing rags!’ Donna joked, though it wasn’t really a joke at all.

      She’d experienced just about every emotion it was possible to feel about her itinerant childhood with a loving but ultimately foolish mother. At her knee she had learnt the arts of exaggeration and evasion, and had then learnt that they were just different words for lying. And lies could grow bigger and bigger, until they swamped you like a wave and dragged you under with them.

      She smiled at Tony Paxman. ‘Let’s talk about you instead. And then you can tell me all about Winchester.’

      He began to talk, and Donna tried very hard to enjoy the meal and his company. To make witty small-talk as adults always did. Pleasant chatter that didn’t mean a thing.

      But she was too distracted by her surroundings to be able to concentrate very much. Even on the food. Weird. She hadn’t banked on Marcus still being able to affect her desire to eat.

      He’d always employed the most talented chefs—even in the early days, when he hadn’t been able to afford to pay them very much. And it seemed that his standards hadn’t slipped. Not by a fraction. Donna gazed at a perfect pyramid of chocolate mousse which sat in a puddle of banana sauce.

      Maybe she was completely mad to set herself up in some sort of competition with a man who had always been regarded within the industry as having both flair and foresight.

      ‘Donna,’ said Tony suddenly.

      She pushed the pudding plate away from her and looked up. ‘Mmm?’

      ‘Why did you ask me to have lunch with you today?’ He swallowed a mouthful of wine and refilled his glass, then began answering his own question without appearing to notice he was doing it. ‘Because it sure as hell wasn’t because you wanted to take our relationship any further.’

      She stared at him in confusion. ‘But I told you that back in the office.’

      ‘I guess you did.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe I hoped I could change your mind.’

      ‘Sorry,’ she said softly, and sat back in her chair to look at him. ‘The lunch is to say thank you.’

      ‘For?’

      ‘For СКАЧАТЬ