Heat in the Kitchen (3 page)

Matt couldn't resist a further dig at her.

'So if you're not a chef, what are you then, some kind of call girl?' At her look of outrage he felt contrite and held his hands up. 'Sorry, that was unfair and uncalled for, but you've got to admit, you're dressed for the part.'

While he'd been grilling her Matt had looked through the food supplies. He grimaced.

'I know for a fact college students are not taught to buy in their pastry. She's got enough pastry cases here to feed an army. What was she thinking? That a few different fillings would make a good buffet? And she's bought the profiteroles?' Matt dropped his head in despair. 'These are 'use by' yesterday. Geez! Is she wanting to give everyone food poisoning?' Matt couldn't believe what he was looking at.

'And she got
this
bread for the sandwiches?' There must have been a dozen loaves from the supermarket's 'value' range. 'What kind of sandwiches was she going to make? This stuff is just about passable toasted. You can't serve this quality at a wedding buffet!'

Matt was incensed. It was this lack of imagination and corner cutting that gave British food a bad name.

'At least there's plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables.' That appeased him slightly. 'Hmm, I suppose we can do something with all this meat as well. Right! As I'm preparing this now, your friend will get a buffet that I'm proud to put my name to, so you can take all this mass produced stuff back to your sister and she can use it somewhere else.'

Ella could only nod. She knew his standards. After all she had followed his career and watched most of his TV programmes. But she had to admit that up close he was an impressive piece of work. He didn't hang around or mince his words. Stunning to look at too! She'd admired him from afar for such a long time. Despite his grouching she had to admit that he made her heart beat uncomfortably. Tabloid photos and her television hadn't done him justice. He was far better looking in the flesh, and dangerous to her carefully guarded heart.

With a firmly toned body that most sportsmen would give their right arm for, long legs, broad shoulders, a face that belonged on a girl's bedroom wall, dark chocolate brown eyes that looked through to your very soul, slightly olive coloured skin and short cropped dark brown hair, Matt was every female's wet dream. No wonder the tabloids never left him alone.

Ella knew he would continue to be just her fantasy. She didn't do relationships, for good reason. Even though she'd loved Matt from afar, she was still surprised at her reaction to him in the flesh. No man had caused her body to react before.

Rather than dwell on how he was making her feel just now, Ella found herself thinking back to when she'd become more acutely aware of him at the age of twelve. Tess and her identical twin sister Ronnie had stormed, sobbing and screaming, into the room they'd all shared with one other girl at boarding school. Matt and his twin, Zander, six years older than the girls, had come running after them and pulled each of them into their arms.

Matt had looked over Tess's head and locked eyes with Ella. It had just been for a moment but she'd seen the raw pain in their depths before he'd masked it and looked down again to Tess. From that moment on, Ella had been lost, wishing Matt had a reason to comfort
her
. Not that she would have wished the tragic death of their parents on the girls - she'd thought more of Tess and Ronnie than she had her own younger sisters who were spoilt and selfish.

As the years had gone on, her thoughts of Matt had clearly turned from pubescent crush to red-hot passion. Not that she had experienced what that was like and never really expected to with her self-induced celibacy. Funny though that she hadn't thought of Zander in the same way and yet they were identical to look at.

After the funeral and then the end of year exams, the boys had left school for good and the girls had stopped boarding. They'd withdrawn from their friends so Ella had had less contact with them, until she'd moved schools herself at the age of fourteen and lost touch with them altogether.

It was only recently they had become reacquainted, when both she and Tess had been on the bill at a charity event. She loved the fact that their friendship had taken off again and fallen into the easy nature of their childhood. They had both been part of a star-studded line up of female performers from the world of pop, jazz, classical and comedy, raising funds to build a dedicated female cancer unit. Tess, a singer, was creating an international reputation for herself in the world of jazz whilst Ella was receiving accolades in the classical world as a pianist. Ronnie had been backstage at the concert giving a helping hand to anyone who had needed it.

'Well?'

'Er, sorry?' Ella came crashing back to the present, embarrassed that she hadn't been paying attention or helping.

Matt gave her a frustrated look. 'We were talking about your clothes? Well, before I had an apoplectic fit over the food we were. My sister obviously thinks it important that I know why you're dressed like that.' Matt didn't sound convinced.

Ella looked down at herself and reddened at the thought of the picture she must present.

'My youngest sister is studying fashion at college. She designed these for the end of term fashion show that potential employers attend. The friend she had lined up to model for her went sick and she asked me to step in.'

Ella hadn't wanted to have the dye in her hair, nor had she been comfortable in the outfit, or in the glaring lights of the catwalk. But both her sisters knew that if they asked her to be there for them, she would be.

Her sisters were actually her half-sisters, with the same mother but different fathers. Ella was the result of an affair with a wealthy, older, married man when her mother had been an impressionable nineteen year old. Apparently he had wanted nothing to do with Ella but had offered money in a trust fund to give her a decent education. The sisters' fathers had both left, one of his own accord before she'd been born and the other through death. Ella's mother and half-sisters had always resented her for the money and posh education. Even though she thought her sisters selfish, she desperately wanted to be loved and accepted by them and never consciously questioned the frequency with which they used her.

'Hmm, she's got as much talent as the other sister. I hope someone's going to tell her she needs to change courses. Or perhaps she just dressed you up like a purple meringue to embarrass you.'

'How dare you insult my sister! Either of them!' Ella may struggle with her sisters and their selfishness, but she wouldn't allow other people to have a go.

'Oh come on now, look at yourself. You surely don't think what you've got on would look good on anyone do you? Would anyone actually want to buy it? I know the women in my acquaintance wouldn't be seen dead in it!'

Ella coloured up in mortification at what Matt thought of her. Embarrassed to her very core, she looked down at her feet. 'In my panic over the buffet I left my own clothes at the show. I knew Tess was going back to France so I had to rush straight here and hope to catch her before she left. I… don't have anything to change into,' she finished quietly.

Matt sighed again. He'd spent the last fourteen years of his life sharing 'parental' responsibility with Zander for their two baby sisters, looking out for them and helping them make the right decisions. Now it seemed he would be doing it for one of their friends.

Chapter 2

'You'll find some chef clothes over in that cupboard,' he said, pointing to the tall cupboard in the far corner of the room, 'go and put a set on. And please do something with that mop on top if you want to stay in this kitchen.'

Matt watched her walk towards the cupboard. She really did have the most amazing hourglass figure. Her tiny waist accentuated the fullness of her breasts and the firmness of her buttocks. His lower body stirred again in appreciation of what might lay beneath the clothing. He shook his head. She may be the most desirable woman he'd seen in a long time, and he may have the urge to take her up against the kitchen units, but she was a friend of his baby sisters, therefore too young for him and out of bounds.

He sighed again. This time for his loss.

As he turned back from the pantry with a catering sized bag of flour in his arms, his face broke out into a broad grin. Who would have thought the person invading his personal space would be the one to improve his mood.

'Don’t you dare say anything. It’s this or purple.'

Ella was dressed in a set of oversized whites that completely swamped her delicate frame. She'd also tried to tame her mane of hair in a flimsy hairnet but bits stuck out through every hole. She should have looked completely ridiculous, but for some reason that Matt didn’t want to analyse, she now looked even more appealing. The 'tarty' look had disappeared and left a glimpse of what the real Ella perhaps looked like.

Matt put the flour down and held up his hands. 'I wouldn’t dare!'

He stifled a laugh, sensing she'd kill him if he let his amusement show.

'Come here.' He took a sleeve and rolled it up further to keep it out of her way and did the same with the other one. He then rolled up both the legs before doing up the buttons that she hadn't managed because of her burnt fingers.

Somehow, the gesture seemed right. Matt shrugged it off as the sort of brotherly act he'd have done if one of his sisters had been standing there.

'Look, I don’t know about you but I desperately need coffee if I’m going to stay up half the night to do this. Can you manage to put the percolator on please? It’s over by the sink. Mugs are in the cupboard above and milk is in the fridge. Make mine strong with just a splash of milk, no sugar. And then could you please clear away all the food we're not going to use and organise the fresh stuff? I'm going to make a big batch of bread and then make a few different pastries.'

He wasn’t letting her speak again but she did feel better having something to do.

He called over to her. 'I hope you don’t mind but I’m making changes to the menu and making it classier.'

'Er, no, that’s fine.'

Ella was a reasonable cook, but didn’t have much idea about mass catering and menus so leaving it to him was fine. And anyway, who would dare criticize the two Michelin starred, internationally acclaimed Matthew Duval-Adams who had cooked for heads of state, won every cooking accolade going and had an enviable reputation for creating the most colourful and stunning, melt-in-your-mouth dishes?

Matt measured out everything he needed - in large quantities and at lightning speed - then started up some of his fancy gadgets.

'So other than a sister who has poor standards in the kitchen and a sister with no fashion sense, is there anyone else in your family who embarrasses you?'

Ella took a deep breath, trying not to rise to the bait.

Through gritted teeth she managed one word. 'No,' then added, as if she couldn't help herself and it explained everything, 'they're my half-sisters anyway.'

Matt registered that neither of her sisters seemed to have a name.
Interesting,
he thought. Whenever he talked about his sisters, he used their names so what was going on for Ella that she didn't? They also seemed to lack any sense of the loyalty and respect that she clearly had in spades. He stored all this away for future reference.

Hang on, after tonight, there wouldn't be a future with this woman. He would get the food ready and send her on her way.

'Seems to me they don't have much respect for you helping them out.'

Ella glared at him, daring him to say another word.

'Fine, mind my own business. I get it. I'm damn sure I wouldn't put up with it.'

'They haven't had the same opportunities I've had. I'm happy to help them and they know it. You help your sisters.' Ella was defensive and knew it was because he had a point.

'Yeah, but they help me back. They don't just take and drop me in the proverbial.'

'Matt, just leave it. Okay? It's nothing to you!' Ella took a quick breath to calm down.

Matt looked at her through half-closed eyes as if considering her statement but decided to make a tactical withdrawal. He hadn't brought up his sisters without learning something about the female psyche.

'Look, do you think if I gave you simple tasks to do you could manage them with that hand?'

Ella regretted her outburst but accepting Matt's change of subject for what it was, jumped at the chance to have something else to do.

For the next few hours they continued to prepare the various dishes for the buffet, every so often topping up their caffeine level. Ella fetched ingredients from his well-stocked cupboards, tidied up behind him, loaded the dishwasher, weighed things, stirred things, operated the sous vide, the mixers and the blenders. Matt kneaded bread, chopped meat, fruit and vegetables. He created something out of many of the ingredients, magicked other ingredients from his endless stores and worked three times harder than Ella. The speed at which he worked was exhausting and yet exhilarating at the same time. The finesse he applied to each dish could only be marvelled at. She could see why he was in such demand.

Throughout all this activity they established a harmony in working together and fell into an easy conversation. They talked about some of their favourite places they'd been to and discovered a commonality in their musical interests.

Matt was grudgingly surprised at how well Ella had worked alongside him. She was no professional and her hand had hindered her but she'd seemed to sense his needs and known when to stay out of his way. He'd actually enjoyed himself. The time had flown and all the groundwork had been laid for the food to be finished off in the morning.

'You've done well. Many of my staff can't work alongside me as well as you've just done. Fancy a job?' he said jokingly.

Ella was taken aback by his praise and felt warmed by it.

She suppressed a smile at his job offer. He still had no idea what she did for a living. Throughout their long conversation on musical tastes she hadn't bothered to enlighten him. He hadn't asked about her so she hadn't shared. She should feel affronted that he hadn't bothered to ask about herself, but strangely she didn't. She'd enjoyed the lack of pressure and anonymity. People tended to change how they responded to her once they knew who she was. It was good just being Ella as opposed to Daniella Lewis-Cannon, her full name and the one she performed under.