Delicious (A Rumour Mill Novel) (39 page)

ew Year’s morning, Guy and Grace laid in
bed overlooking a white sandy beach that ran the perimeter of their Four
Seasons Kuda Huraa bungalow. Grace’s body glistened in post sex glow. She was
wrapped in light white Egyptian sheets as Guy sat naked massaging Grace’s feet.
They stared at the crystal clear ocean literally inches away from their patio
door.

“Are you enjoying
all of this, Grace?” Guy asked rubbing her feet delicately.

“MMMM...” Grace
responded her eyes were half-open. “I’m loving it. I could stay here forever.”

They wished they’d
stay like this forever. Everything they both ever wanted was here. Guy got his
woman he truly loved and Grace got her man. In addition to each other, Grace
received her wish on her wedding and recalling the day she smiled.

 
          
Yesterday Grace couldn’t believe how
soft beach sand felt between her toes. It was the texture of confectioner’s
sugar and almost as white as the sugar. It was a beautiful glorious day, not a
single cloud for hundreds of miles around. The sky and the sea the same colour
of cerulean, one couldn’t tell where they met.

Grace wore a long
flowing white maxi halter sun dress. Her hair was done in beach combed tresses,
the only makeup she wore was Nars crème blush and lip-gloss. She clutched a
small bouquet of fresh tropical flowers with glee. Then she heard the melodic
sounds of the band playing a sonnet of
Four
Seasons
by Vivaldi.

As Grace turned a
corner to make her way down the aisle towards the arch of native flowers to
where Guy waited, dressed in his pale blue seersucker suit, Grace gasp in stunned
happiness. There stood Alistair and Philippe alongside Amanda Priestly and Guy.
Alistair and Philippe said they wouldn’t
be able to attend. It seems they changed their minds.
Suddenly she heard
two voices shouting and the band stopped playing.

“
Don’t start the wedding without us!
”Grace
turned to look behind and there was Corrie and Cat trying to run in heels in the
sand. It wasn’t working. Cat hopped on one foot trying to get the other shoe
off.

“
I told you not to wear heels!
”Corrie
screamed.

Grace heard the laughter
coming from Guy and the small group of family, watching the scene unfolding
before them. The twins reached Grace panting and holding their knees.

“Grace...” Cat
said trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry for all that I’ve done. It was
foolish of me to think you’d stay young forever and never marry. I realise how
selfish I was.”

“Thank you.” Grace
replied hugging Cat tightly. She didn’t want to cry and ruin her makeup.

“Are we going to start?”
Guy shouted out.

The women near
tears all nodded. Corrie dragged Cat out of Grace’s arms, down to the waiting
others. The band strummed up again and Grace made her way down the sandy aisle.

The ceremony was
quick yet very personal. It brought tears of joy to everyone’s eyes as Guy
revealed his undying love for Grace. Grace spoke of how Guy was her rock, her
everything and through the face of adversity her hero and for that she loved
him.
 

As they were about
to exchange rings, Guy knew Grace wanted to wait until after the baby was born
for her to wear her wedding ring. Instead Guy pulled a gorgeous white gold bracelet
with pave diamonds and two letters G entwined out from a Graff box. It matched
her necklace. He clasped it around her wrist.

Grace gave him a
gorgeous Rolex white gold Sky-dweller watch with the inscription:
We have all the time in the world, love
Grace.
They sealed their vows with a single kiss. The group all clapped happily
receiving the couple.

For the reception
on the beach, they ate a late afternoon dinner of goat cheese and duck
prosciutto, pumpkin tortelli; shallot baked white snapper followed by espresso
and prosecco granite. Instead of wedding cake for dessert, Grace and Guy
insisted on the Chef’s take of English trifle filled with layers of different
fruit mousses, Victoria sponge cake doused with top- shelf Sherry, and finished
with whipped cream.

Everyone licked
their lips in delight and marvelled at the whole occasion. They laughed over
childhood stories of the couple and talked about the impending arrival of the
baby.

“Do you know the
sex of the baby?” Amanda chirped.

“Yes we do.” Guy
answered. “It’s a girl.”

The group went
wild and they all congratulated them on their baby girl. They couldn’t wait
till spring for the arrival of Poppy Jane Rowling.

The knock on their
bungalow door brought Grace out of her trance. Guy rose from the bed.
 
He dressed in his terry cloth robe. Guy
answered the door. It was a member of staff carrying a FedEx package for Guy and
Grace. Guy was baffled. He tipped the staff member for delivering the box and closing
the door behind him.

“Who’s it from?”
Grace asked as she sat up in the four post bed.

“I don’t know.”
Guy replied tearing it open.

Guy pulled out its
contents and saw a small cake box with a note attached to it. He sat on the bed
next to Grace and read the note aloud.
‘To
Grace and Guy, here is a small token of your love. It’s the cake that started
it all.’

Guy opened the
box. Inside was a sliver of red velvet cake Grace made for the Dowling-Smythe
wedding. It’s a piece of cake traditionally reserved for the first wedding
anniversary.

“What an odd gift
and no name included on the note!” Guy said scratching his head.

“Throw it away.”
Grace replied leaning up to kiss him.

Pregnancy made her
horny and she could care less about the cake that started it all. She wanted
Guy and she wanted him now.

Guy tossed the
cake on the floor. He went in to kiss Grace. Their tongues touching as he fell
back. She tasted sweet of fresh fruit juice that she drank.

“I love you, Guy.”
Grace mewled as Guy’s hands began to roam her naked body.

“I love you, Grace.
Always and forever. Nothing will ever tear us apart.” Guy replied in her ear as
he nibbled her shoulders.

To Grace the words
he spoke were delicious.

♥

Here
is a special preview of:

A Rumour Mill Novel-Book 2

erica
hutchings

arren sat in the smoky club mesmerized
by the way she danced. Her body moved fluidly like a soft cotton sheet being
blown about in the summer wind. From the way she danced Darren wonder what
she’d be like in bed. He knew it was impossible to find out. She lifted her leg
against her partners’ hip as he dragged her across the stage and spun her about
in the heated tango.

           
The
young lady’s dark espresso hair was up in a severe bun and Darren was desperate
to unpin it. He wanted to know how far it went down her back, whether or not it
curled. From where he sat Darren saw she’s different. Her cheeks flushed in a
passionate rose from dancing. Her lips deep ruby red, all for show. The young
lady’s grace, arse, hands and the way her eyes spoke to her dancing partner, it
was as if she was in love. It turned Darren on like no other woman did before.
The couple did a final spin ending the tango with her at her partners’ knee.

           
“It
seems you like what you see.” Julio said.

As the crowd
around them erupted into a loud applause, Julio grinned from ear to ear.

           
“Who
is she?” Darren asked before taking a long gulp of his Quilmes beer.

           
“Valentina,
she’s my daughter!” Julio proudly boasted. He exhaled smoke from his cigarette.
“She’s a choreographer and she’ll be going away soon.”

           
Darren
didn’t hide his surprised facial expression. Julio nodded knowingly.

           
“I
know, I know! How does a young footballer like me have a twenty-three year old
daughter?” Julio joked

Darren knew
Julio, a retired former world’s best football player, was in his mid-forties.
Julio was single since his divorce and living the high life from his earnings,
but a daughter who’s twenty-three? He could’ve accepted younger sister or
perhaps a cousin, but a daughter? In Darren’s former self, the revelation
wouldn’t have stopped Darren, but Julio, an old acquaintance, offered him
refuge when most of the U.K. wanted Darren exiled permanently.

The
investigation surrounding the death of his late wife and glamour model, Tamzin
Smythe, along with blackmail and game-fixing plot by her father, William, led
to compassionate leave from English Premier Football. It was later followed by
a yearlong suspension.
 
Before Darren can
return to England, he had to redeem himself.

On a recent
telephone call, his half-brother Guy Rowling advised Darren to
‘Be a better person.’
To be a better
person, Darren had to give his partying and playboy ways up for which he’s
notorious.

This was
Darren’s last night in Buenos Aires before flying out to Los Angeles to serve
the remainder of his self-imposed exile. Amanda Priestly, British Hollywood
starlet and half-sister, offered Darren a place to stay as she felt awful for
not contacting him directly after the shooting. The place was to be Darren’s
until she returned from filming in Vancouver and then he’d head back to England
to start over.

“She’s
beautiful.” Darren said trying to be civil. He didn’t want Julio to think
Darren was going to jump Julio’s daughters’ bones on his last night. He
respected him too much to do such a thing.

“Stay away from
skinny bimbo bitches! Putas! That’s what gets men in trouble. Gold-diggers! You
need to get yourself a beautiful Latin woman. They’ll keep you in check.” Julio
coughed stubbing out his cigarette. “But not my daughter. She’s leaving soon. I
wish she’d stay with me forever.” Julio continued as if clairvoyant and able to
read Darren’s mind.

Julio was fully
aware of Darren’s failed first marriage to Tamzin. Tamzin tried killing Darren.
In the end the tables were turned and she ended up in ashes. Now Darren was one
of the richest available widowers in the world and young at that. He turned
thirty whilst in Buenos Aires.

A waiter came
over, bringing a bottle of red wine and pair of wine glasses. Another waiter
set picadas before them.
 
Darren nimbly
picked a piece of cheese tossing it in his mouth.

“Daddy!” a
voice cried out.

Darren turning
his head saw who came behind him. He came face to face with the beautiful
dancer from the stage. Julio got up from his chair, extending his arms to greet
his daughter with a strong bear-like hug. Darren stood up, pushing the chair
back to take an even better look of her. Darren felt the heat in his cheeks.
Seldom do I ever get embarrassed, but she’s gorgeous
and breathtaking and I can’t help myself.
She’s more striking in person.

Valentina was
five foot six with onyx hair that was still held together in a bun. Val had a
sweetheart face and her skin colour, a light brown sugar. Val’s smile exposed
two prominent dimples and her doe-like eyes were a teal green. She still wore
her traditional Argentinean dress for dancing the tango.

Briefly
Valentina reminded Darren of someone famous. Darren tried thinking of whom, but
couldn’t recall. He definitely knew Valentina’s is more beautiful. He knew
Valentina’s mother was former Swedish American supermodel, Natasha Jarryd.
Valentina inherited none of Natasha’s looks. To Darren, Valentina was unique
from other women he previously dated.
Valentina
is younger looking too.
 
If Darren
wasn’t aware of her true age, he pegged Valentina at seventeen or eighteen, not
twenty-three like her father confirmed.

Valentina felt
his baby-blue eyes piercing her. Valentina thought Darren’s stare to be intense
and penetrating like staring into her soul. Shyly, Valentina pulled away from
her father. She felt tongue-tied. She knew of Darren. He was the world’s
sexiest footballer fallen from grace. A bad boy of sorts and dangerous. All the
things that attracted her to him like a moth to a flame. She certainly didn’t
expect Darren to be standing before her in the flesh looking more handsome than
what was depicted on the
Rumour Mill
website. He wore dark wash Armani jeans and light weight, white button down
Prada shirt. A perfect ensemble for a night out.

“Valentina, I’d
like to introduce you to Darren Dowling, an old friend.” Julio introduced.
Darren extended his hand to shake hers.

Valentina’s
fingers soft to the touch. They lingered in his palms as they shook.
They’re so supple
, Darren assumed she
moisturize daily or never done a hard days’ work in her life.

“Hello.”
Valentina said softly.

“Hello,
Valentina.” Darren managed to say. “I loved your performance tonight. Your
father’s said you’re a choreographer and you’ll be leaving soon.”

Valentina
pulled her hand back. Darren smiled. His grin wicked as he flashed his bright
white teeth displaying a perfect smile. Darren’s hair grew back in short dirty
blond waves and his jaw-line recently shaven. From pictures, Val knew the old
Darren whose head shaven and face with a five o’clock shadow, but Val loved
this new look.
 
It was the freshly
widowed Darren Dowling, not the one the public knew when he was married.

“Thank you.
Yes, I’m a professional choreographer. I trained through private school and Juilliard.
I didn’t inherit my mother’s looks or height to be a model. Plus, I prefer
dancing instead of the catwalk.” Valentina replied modestly.

Impressed,
Darren arched his brows. Valentina was what Darren typically didn’t look for
when it came to women. Even in profession and stance Valentina provided herself
to be a rare sort of woman. Valentina seemed to have a slight disdain for her
mother’s prior profession. Natasha was now designer. There were substantial
curves on Val’s body. Whereas Darren’s late-wife, Tamzin, was wafer thin like a
garden rake. The only weight Tamzin gained was when she visited Harley Street
to get her breast implants increased in size.

“Where you’re
going?” Darren asked.

Darren hoped he
wasn’t imposing and Val forthcoming in details. He’d be willing to make a
detour if necessary.

“I leave for
New York tomorrow. I’m going home for a week before I go on world tour with pop
singer, Nikki Simone. I’m tour choreographer.” Valentina disclosed with a
smile.

Val didn’t want
to stare at Darren, but his dashing looks made it impossible. If Darren knew
that she had a crush on him since he did the cover of Elle U.K., Val would be
embarrassed.

“See! That’s my
star! She isn’t in front of the camera, but behind scenes, Valentina is doing
it all!” Julio gushed proudly wrapping his arm around Valentina. Julio kissed
Val lovingly on the crown of her head. Suddenly a group of Valentina’s friends
descended on them.

“We’ve got to
go, Val.” One of the girls chimed as they dawdled on their mobile phones.

“Party. Across
town.” Valentina explained. “It’s lovely to meet you.” she added.

Valentina said
goodbye to her father. Darren stood in his place watching Valentina. She walked
out of the club with her friends in tow. S
he’s
gone
. Darren felt his heart palpitate, he was desperate.
I need to see Valentina again.

“Rarely do I
get a moment to be with her. When Valentina visits, she goes out with her
friends or shopping. Her visits are getting shorter. Even at this age, her
mother wants to have her in New York and spend every minute knowing where
Valentina is. The sad thing is they never see each other.” Julio groaned as he
sat back down. He took an empanada and bit into it.

“You’re lucky.
The puta died on you before she gave you children and take everything in
divorce.” Julio added as Darren drank wine. Suddenly Julio realised Valentina
didn’t have information Julio was to give to her.

“I have to
catch Val.” Julio said. He quickly got up to run out of the club to find her.

Darren sat back
watching another group of entertainers on stage. He popped another piece of
cheese into his mouth and drank some wine in thought. He was thinking of
Valentina and wished he could’ve stayed longer to see if it was possible to
meet with her.

No...
said the little
voice inside his head...
you’re skating on
thin ice. This is the daughter of a good acquaintance and you can’t fuck up
your life this time around. You got one reprieve.

The voice is right.
I’m not screwing this up again.

♥