FIRST thing the next morning, Lily did the shopping, so her ingredients were the freshest they could possibly be. Then she drove over to Karim’s flat, called him as arranged, and allowed Rafiq to carry her bags up to the flat and park her van in the car park beneath the complex.
‘Good morning, habibti.’ Karim opened the door. ‘Now, are you Miss Finch or Lily today?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Lily, of course—but I’m here on business.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Actually, you’re two minutes early. Which means you can kiss me hello.’
She’d barely uttered the first syllable of his name in protest before he kissed her. A warm, sweet and promising kiss that made her knees weak. And then he closed the door behind her. ‘Right. Do you have everything you need?’
‘I’m pretty sure I do.’
‘Good. Rafiq is at your disposal, should you need anything. His number is on speed dial on the kitchen phone—dial hash then three.’ He ushered her through to the kitchen. ‘And I’ll be next door, if you need any input from me.’
‘Sure. Want me to bring you a coffee when I make myself one?’
He smiled at her. ‘You are indeed a woman whose price is above rubies. Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’
She changed into her chef’s whites and settled into the kitchen, spreading out her equipment and working through the first part of her list. When she’d sorted out everything that needed marinating and the first batch of bite-size Arabic shortbread was out of the oven, she made coffee and carried a mug and a plate through to Karim in the next room.
He was working on a spreadsheet on his laptop when she walked in. She’d never seen him at work before, and it was a revelation. He looked focused, brooding, intense—and sexy as hell. His face was all strong angles and planes, and with his hair raked back rather than flopping over his forehead he looked slightly forbidding rather than the teasing playboy she was used to.
He looked up and his eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Hello, habibti. How’s it going?’
‘Fine. You?’
‘Fine.’ His eyes widened as he spotted the shortbread. ‘Is that for me?’
‘It’s still fairly warm and it’s an early test. Client’s privilege.’ She smiled at him. ‘I know I told you the kitchen was out of bounds, but with the rest of my clients I’m happy for them to come in and chat to me and taste things whenever they want.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘So why can’t I do the same?’
‘Number one, you’re busy. Number two, you’d distract me. So. The kitchen ban stays.’
He tried the shortbread and closed his eyes in seeming bliss for a moment. ‘This is fabulous, Lily. If you ever decide you want to work in a warmer climate, you’d command premium prices as a pastry chef in my country.’ He looked appreciatively at her. ‘If the rest of the food’s like this, you’ll have done half my job for me.’
‘It’s really too early to say. Wait until you try the rest,’ she said. ‘But I’m glad you like it, so far.’ On impulse, she leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose—and backed out of reach before he could react.
‘You just broke the rules again, Miss Finch,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Which means the kitchen is no longer out of bounds.’
‘Oh, yes, it is.’ She held both hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture. ‘Stay!’ she said, laughing, and fled back to the kitchen.
She was busy working on a rose-water cream filling, with everything else ticking over nicely, when Karim wandered into the kitchen. ‘It’s half past one. Do you want me to make you a sandwich or something?’
‘It’s sweet of you to offer, but no—and this room is supposed to be out of bounds,’ she reminded him.
‘Habibti, you’ve been on the go since you got here—surely you need to sit down and take a break?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not like that in a kitchen. When I’m cooking, I work through.’
‘Hmm. I don’t want to be a slave driver.’
‘You’re not. I’m setting my own pace,’ she reassured him. ‘But if you’re desperate to help, I’ll let you set up the dining table later. I need all four of you on one side of that enormous table, and a big runner in the middle so I can set the dishes on it.’
‘Of course. Do you mind if I make myself a sandwich?’
‘I’ll do it.’
He frowned. ‘Lily, you’re busy. I really don’t expect you to wait on me as well as everything else.’
‘It’s fine. Don’t fuss. Now, shoo,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’ll bring you something through in a couple of minutes.’
She made Karim a sandwich and herself a mug of coffee, and carried on. The rest of the afternoon whizzed by; at five o’clock, she stopped for just long enough to take him a sample of the baklawa she’d made and a cup of very English tea.
‘These are absolutely perfect,’ he pronounced. He gave her a teasing sidelong glance. ‘Dare I ask, given that the media has this thing about saving time at the moment…did you make the pastry yourself as well as the filling and the syrup?’
She gave him a speaking look. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think I’ve just insulted you. Of course you didn’t cut corners. You’re a consummate professional, Miss Finch.’
She inclined her head in acknowledgement. ‘Thank you. I’m nearly there.’
‘Let me know when you want me to set up the room. I take it you’re joining us?’
‘Not to eat, no. With the amount of stuff I’ve tasted,’ she explained, ‘I’m too stuffed to face a meal.’
‘You’re the boss, habibti.’
At five to seven, Karim’s guests arrived. ‘Lily, this is Luke and Cathy—Rafiq you already know.’
‘Good to meet you,’ Lily said. ‘And thanks for being guinea pigs tonight.’
‘Pleasure,’ Luke said.
Cathy just stared, open-mouthed. ‘You’re Elizabeth Finch! I recognise you from your picture in Modern Life magazine.’ She nudged her boss. ‘Luke, why didn’t you tell me Elizabeth Finch was cooking for us? Do you have any idea how much of a legend she is?’
‘Karim told me Lily cooks for the rich and famous, not that she is famous. And as I don’t exactly read the same kind of magazines you do…’ Luke spread his hands. ‘Sorry.’
‘Enough of the celeb stuff. Call me Lily, and I’m just the cook,’ Lily said. ‘And you’re all here to work.’ She ushered them over to the dining table. ‘I’ve put some sheets there for you all to fill in, but if you’d rather tell me than write it down, that’s fine. I want an honest opinion. Don’t hold back. So if you like it, I want to know what you like about it, and if you don’t, that’s also fine: I need to know what the problem is, whether it’s the texture or it’s too spicy or it’s too bland. That’ll help me do the final tweaks and get the right balance for the final recipe.’ She smiled at them. ‘You’re getting a lot of different dishes, a lot of different tastes, so I’ll bring you sorbet to cleanse your palate between dishes.’
To her relief, the savoury dishes went down well—her testers suggested a few adjustments, but in the main she’d kept on the fine line she’d intended to tread.
Then she brought in the pastries. ‘OK. We have filo pastries filled with rose-water cream, some traditional date-and-nut pastries, baklawa—which is like the Greek pastry but flavoured with rose water—Arabic shortbread, and semolina cookies stuffed with date and walnuts,’ she said.
‘And the little muffins?’ Luke asked.
She looked straight at Karim. ‘White chocolate—and pomegranate.’
‘You are so going to pay for that,’ Karim mouthed at her.
She just laughed and made them try every single one, with a mouthful of sorbet in between each.
‘I love these shortbread biscuits. Is that orange blossom water you added?’ Cathy asked.
‘And egg yolk,’ Lily said.
‘Can I beg the recipe, please? And for the pomegranate muffins? They’d go down really well with the breakfast crowd at the gym.’
‘Sure.’ Lily smiled at her. ‘I was thinking about adding a little grated orange rind to the muffins. It’s a fairly classic combination—and orange mixed with pomegranate juice, olive oil and a little ground coriander makes a fabulous salad dressing.’ She caught Karim’s eye, and gave him a wicked smile, guessing exactly what was going through his head. The words ‘pomegranate’ and ‘dressing’ had definitely sparked off an idea.
She finished the tasting session with mint tea.
‘This and those little semolina and date cookies,’ Rafiq said, ‘are as good as my mother’s.’
‘Thank you.’ She acknowledged the compliment with a dip of her head, and gathered up the tasting notes, placing them in a folder and then putting the folder in a briefcase. ‘And thank you all for being honest. I’ll take your comments into account when I tweak the recipes before Karim’s meetings.’
‘I can see why you held out for her to be your caterer,’ Luke said quietly to Karim at the doorway as he and Cathy left. ‘She’s very good at her job—the food was fabulous. And she’s incredibly focused. She even managed to concentrate on talking to us and finding out what we really thought, when every time she looked at you it was obvious that she just wanted to rip all your clothes off and melt into your arms.’
‘You don’t have to do the “bloody shovel” bit,’ Karim said, feeling the colour flare in his face.
Luke simply grinned. ‘I like the way there’s no side to her, no airs and graces—what you see is exactly what you get.’
‘But?’ Karim could see the word written all over his friend’s face.
‘You’re still an idiot. She’s lovely, but it’s going to end in tears,’ Luke warned. ‘Mixing business and pleasure is a seriously bad idea.’
‘We both know the score,’ Karim said. ‘She doesn’t have room in her life for a relationship. And she knows that I have to go back to Harrat Salma. We have ground rules. It’s not a problem.’
‘I thought you said you weren’t thinking about getting involved with her?’
‘Technically, I wasn’t thinking about it.’
Luke picked up exactly what he meant. ‘You’d already done it. Idiot.’ He sighed. ‘Just be careful. Because one or both of you is going to get hurt.’
‘No, we’re not. We know what we’re doing. Eyes wide open,’ Karim insisted. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
His best friend didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press the point.
Rafiq, having offered to help clear up and been turned down by Lily, headed for his own quarters. Which left Karim alone with Lily.
He walked into the kitchen, where she was clearing up.
‘You,’ he said, ‘did an amazing job.’
She shrugged. ‘I try to live up to the name of my business.’
‘You definitely did, tonight.’ He took the pan from her hand.
‘I need to finish clearing up, Karim.’
‘No. Enough,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve been on your feet all day. I’ll sort it out.’
‘It’s part of my job.’
‘I don’t care. I’m doing it. And remember that the client is always right,’ he said. ‘And I could pull rank and remind you that, actually, I own this kitchen.’ Then, when her expression turned mutinous, he leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. ‘Lily, you need a break. Even if you don’t think you do. Come on.’ He took her hand and drew her towards the stairs.
‘Where are we…?’ She stopped.
‘You,’ he said, ‘are going to chill out a bit while I finish clearing up.’ He led her up the stairs and stopped outside the door next to his room. ‘I promised to introduce you to my bathroom. One second.’ He flicked a couple of switches, then opened the door. ‘Come with me.’
She stopped and just stared.
If anything, the room was even more gorgeous than his wet room. The tiles here were stone, textured and matte rather than smooth and glossy; a huge potted kentia palm stood in one corner. There was a freestanding bath finished in dark grey stone in the centre of the room, uplit with an aqua wash—and she could hear music playing softly. It wasn’t something she knew, but it was incredibly moving.
‘Like it?’ he asked.
‘Love it,’ she breathed. ‘What’s the music?’
‘Very English, actually,’ he said with a smile. ‘Something I heard performed when I was at Cambridge, and it blew me away. It’s Vaughan Williams’ “Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis”. Perfect for chilling out. Though if you’d rather have something else, I can change it.’
‘No. It’s gorgeous.’
There were fluffy white bath sheets hanging on the towel rail, and the basin was a frosted glass bowl resting on a dark grey slab. Toiletries were lined up neatly on a glass shelf, and there was a mirror above the sink.
But she was drawn back to the bath. It was big enough for two people, with a shelf on one side; the kind of place where you could lie back in a pile of bubbles and read a magazine, with a cup of tea beside you, Lily thought.
Utter, utter bliss.
Without another word, Karim leaned over the bath, flicked a switch so the plug sank down flush with the base of the bath, and ran the water.
The water flowing into the white interior of the bath was the same shade of aqua as the recessed lights under the bath.
‘That’s stunning. How did you…?’ She gestured to the water.
‘It’s a tap light.’
When she drew closer, she realised that there was a beam of aqua-coloured light running through the water; the actual water in the bath was clear.
‘Boys and their toys,’ she said, rolling her eyes.
He grinned. ‘You have to admit, it’s seriously cool.’
‘It’s seriously cool,’ she said. She glanced up at the ceiling.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘I wondered if you had one of those glass roofs that turn clear so you can see the sky.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘There’s no point, in London. You won’t see anything other than an orange glow and the odd aeroplane. A hot tub under the desert sky, on the other hand…now, there it would be worth having a clear glass roof.’
She could just imagine it. And she could also imagine Karim in the bath with her, his wet hair slicked back from his face and his body easing into hers.
For a moment, she went dizzy and had to hold onto the side of the bath.
‘Lily? Are you all right?’
‘Just a bit tired,’ she said, not wanting to admit how much he affected her.
‘Hmm.’ He tipped something from a small bottle into the water, and rich, lush bubbles began to form.
‘Vanilla,’ she said, sniffing the air, ‘and…?’
He slanted her a look. ‘Pomegranate.’
Ah-h-h.
She’d been teasing him about pomegranates all evening.
‘Hmm. That word’s a very effective way to shut you up,’ Karim said thoughtfully. ‘Though not half as much fun as this.’ He spun her round and lowered his mouth to hers, then nibbled her lower lip until she opened her mouth and let him kiss her properly.
She shivered when he broke the kiss. ‘Karim…’
‘Humour me,’ he said softly. ‘You’re tired. I want to give you a few minutes to relax.’ He removed the Buff from her hair and ran his fingers through the thick tresses for a moment, letting it fall to her shoulders. Then he undid the buttons on her chef’s jacket, so very slowly.
‘Mmm. I wondered what you were wearing under this,’ he said in approval as he saw her lacy white bra.
Her trousers were next. And by the time he’d finished undressing her, the bath was ready. He turned off the taps, tested the temperature of the water, then took off his watch and placed it on the granite surround by the glass bowl of the sink.
‘What are you…?’ she began.
He rolled up his sleeves and gently lifted her into the bath. ‘Just lie back and relax. I’ll bring you a drink in a minute.’ He forestalled her protest with a kiss. ‘No arguments. Your client demands it.’
Lily, realising just how tired she was, gave in.
This was bliss.
A deep, hot bath with lots of bubbles and the most gorgeous music… She lay back and closed her eyes.
She had no idea how much time passed before Karim returned, carrying an opened bottle of champagne and a champagne flute. In the bottom of the glass there was what looked like a hibiscus flower. As he poured the champagne into the glass the flower opened.
‘Now that’s showing off,’ she said. ‘But very pretty.’
He placed the bottle on the side of the bath, on the shelf she’d imagined with a cup of tea, and handed the glass to her.
She refused to accept it. ‘That’s a really lovely thought, but I can’t—I have to drive home.’
‘Actually, you don’t have to,’ he said. There was a long, long pause. ‘You could—if you wished—stay here tonight. With me.’
Her heart missed a beat. ‘Karim.’
‘I know.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I can’t believe I asked you, either. I’ve never invited anyone to stay here overnight before.’
‘I…’ She swallowed hard. She wanted to say yes. She really, really wanted to say yes. A whole night in Karim’s arms.
But a practical voice in her head wouldn’t let her do it. ‘I don’t have clean underwear with me,’ she said, suddenly embarrassed.
‘I have a washer-dryer. If I put your clothes in now, they’ll be ready to wear in the morning.’
She blinked. ‘I thought you said you used a laundry service?’
‘I do. But I still have a washing machine.’
‘But you’re a pr—’
He touched his forefinger to her lips to silence the word. ‘Forget about the wretched title, Lily. If I had to sit around until someone would come to dress me, like some Regency duke waiting for his valet, I’d get nothing done. I believe in taking responsibility for myself.’ He let his hand drop. ‘Stay with me tonight, Lily.’
Against her better judgement, she nodded.
He smiled. ‘Good. And you can’t change your mind any more—in about three minutes’ time, all your clothes will be in my washing machine. Wet. And you’ll have to wait at least until they’re dry.’ He scooped up her discarded clothing and disappeared.
She lay back and sipped the champagne. The bubbles burst against her tongue—a heady feeling, but nowhere near as heady as the feeling she got whenever Karim looked at her.
When he returned, he said nothing, but his gaze was very, very hot. He stripped efficiently, then took the glass from her hand and commanded softly, ‘Move up.’
She shifted along the bath while he placed the glass on the shelf next to the bottle; he stepped in behind her, then scooped her onto his lap so that she lay back against him.
‘That’s better,’ he murmured, wrapping one arm round her ribcage and kissing the curve of her neck. ‘Much better.’
With his other hand, he retrieved the glass and took a sip, before holding it to her lips so that her mouth touched the place his had just left.
‘I’m impressed by the hibiscus,’ she said when he replaced the glass, tipping her head back so she could look up at him. ‘Though I wondered if you were going to add pomegranate seeds.’
‘Believe me, habibti, I thought about it,’ he said. ‘I’ll save that for another time.’
‘This is incredibly decadent. This huge bath, all these bubbles, and champagne, too.’
‘Life,’ he said, ‘is for enjoying. Because it’s way, way too short.’
Something in his tone told her that this was something that went deep. The key to Karim—who he really was, under the playboy mask. She took his free hand, brought it up to her lips and pressed a kiss into his palm, then curled her fingers over it.
‘Careful, habibti,’ he warned, his voice slightly cracked. ‘I’m tempted to do something very, very rash.’
And, with his erection pressing against her, she could guess just what.
The really scary thing was that she could be very tempted, too.
He kissed the curve of her neck. ‘I think we need to move out of here. While I’m still able to think straight.’ He shifted her off his lap, climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around himself, then lifted her out and wrapped her in a towel before carrying her to his bed.
He flicked a switch, and uplighters set into the floor bathed the room in the softest of lights; then he closed the curtains, let his towel fall to the floor and walked slowly, slowly over to the bed. Lily’s breath caught in her throat: Karim was gorgeous. All male. And she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life before.
‘So, Lily. Just you and me,’ he said huskily.
‘Just you and me,’ she agreed.
‘And tonight you’re going to sleep in my arms.’
How long had it last been since she’d spent the night in someone’s arms? Years. She hadn’t wanted to—not until now.
And she was absolutely sure she wasn’t making the same mistake she’d made with Jeff. The situation was different. And Karim at least was a man of honour.
His lovemaking was tender and sweet and brought tears to her eyes. And as his body curled round hers, making her feel warm and safe, Lily drifted off to sleep, feeling more content and fulfilled than she had in a long, long time.