Recipe for Love
Take one aspiring cook, one judge, and a spoonful of romance…
When Zoe Harper wins a coveted place in a televised cookery competition she’s thrilled. It’s a chance to cook her way to fame and fortune and the little delicatessen she’s set her heart on.
The first task has hardly begun when she finds herself with rather too much on her plate. Not only has she got to contend with the fiercely competitive and downright devious Cher, but she’s fast developing an inconvenient crush on one of the judges – the truly delicious Gideon Irving.
All too soon there’s more than canapés, cupcakes and cordon bleu at stake. Will Zoe win the competition or is Gideon one temptation too far? And is Zoe really prepared to risk it all for love?
Katie Fforde was born and brought up in London but has lived in Gloucestershire with her family for the last thirty years. Her first novel,
Living Dangerously
, went on to be chosen as part of the WHSmith Fresh Talent promotion. There have been over seventeen novels since, as well as some grandchildren. Her hobbies, when she has time for them, are singing in a choir and flamenco dancing. Katie Fforde is President of the Romantic Novelists’ Association.
To find out more about Katie Fforde visit her website at
www.katiefforde.com
and follow her on Twitter
@KatieFforde
.
Living Dangerously
The Rose Revived
Wild Designs
Stately Pursuits
Life Skills
Thyme Out
Artistic Licence
Highland Fling
Paradise Fields
Restoring Grace
Flora’s Lot
Practically Perfect
Going Dutch
Wedding Season
Love Letters
A Perfect Proposal
Summer of Love
To Frank Fforde and Heidi Cawley with
much love and gratitude.
Also to Téo Fforde just because he’s
there
.
Writers are like snowballs, they go through life picking up bits of knowledge – often without knowing they’re doing it. But there are several people who I know made real contributions to this book. In no particular order:
Elizabether Garret for Cliff Cottage which really helped to prevent deadline panic.
Judy Astley and Kate Lace, who helped Cliff Cottage with the deadline assistance.
Edd Kimber
@theboywhobakes
who was jolly helpful about cookery competitions.
Liz Godsell for telling me about cheese.
Heidi Cawley for telling me about delis, for making her own pancetta and for taking me shopping, also for learning about cupcakes with me.
Frank Fforde who helped with professional kitchen advice and for telling me you can make a quick custard with white chocolate.
Helen Child Villiers – Chepstow Cupcakes – who taught me how to make them and mocked my efforts
Molly Haynes, who, when I appealed on Twitter for a canapé recipe, responded with something truly delicious.
Karin Cawley, for producing bread pudding so delicious I had to put it in the book. She also produced Heidi, which was even more clever.
As always my wonderful husband and research assistant, Desmond Fforde, who continues to put up with me.
And not forgetting Briony Fforde who keeps me in order and makes me laugh. Nothing runs smoothly without laughter.
ZOE HARPER LAY ON
the bank in the sun with her eyes closed, listening to a lark high above her. Nearer her ear she could hear the crackling of the grass and the buzzing of insects. The weather had been changeable recently in typical British-weather fashion, but today it was a perfect early summer’s day.
Warned that Sat Nav didn’t work in the area she’d allowed far too much getting-lost time and arrived far too early at the venue. She’d wondered if she was in the right place as the huge old mansion seemed to be undergoing some fairly major restoration, going by large sections of scaffolding and several contractors’ vans parked in the drive. Fenella Gainsborough, heavily pregnant, confirmed that she was, and, obviously not ready for her guests yet, had thrust a map into Zoe’s hands and sent her out for a walk. Zoe, relieved that she had reached her destination, was happy to leave her car and explore on foot. As none of the other contestants had arrived yet – they were not expected till the early evening – she’d set off alone.
Now she tried to relax but in spite of the sun on her eyelids she was finding it hard. Her walk from Somerby House had used up some of her nervous energy but she was still full of adrenalin. Excited about the impending cookery competition she’d been so thrilled to win a place on, she was also a bundle of nerves. It didn’t help that it
was
also being filmed, prior to being televised later in the year. Zoe consoled herself with the thought that at least it wasn’t going out live. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d made it through the rigorous selection process. She’d only entered on the insistence of her mother and her best friend, Jenny, but now, here she was in a field in the middle of nowhere feeling as if she was about to go to her execution. She sighed and stretched. She’d do better to breathe deeply and try and doze.
Just as the peace of the English meadow was finally beginning to work its magic she heard a car in the lane below her and was suddenly fully awake.
The car went past and then stopped. It had obviously reached the gate blocking the lane. Zoe had reached it herself about half an hour ago and had decided against climbing over it. A large notice saying ‘Trespassers keep out’ had helped her in her decision.
Zoe waited and then heard the car reverse throatily. It would have to reverse all the way back down the lane unless it was small, and it didn’t sound small. It stopped and she heard the gear change. Just as she realised what it intended, she sat up and started down the bank. There was a ditch, hidden by long grasses. She wouldn’t have found it herself if she hadn’t nearly stumbled into it.
Too late. By the time she had reached the lane, brushing bits of vegetation off her jeans, the car’s back wheel was hovering over the ditch. The front end was nearly in the ditch on the other side of the lane. The driver got out of the car and slammed the door.
‘Bloody stupid place to put a ditch,’ he growled.
He was a fairly impressive figure. Tall and broad with dark hair, he had the air of a person who was not accustomed to being thwarted by civil engineering.
Zoe wanted to laugh but managed to shrug instead. ‘A
fairly
usual place I’d have thought, by the side of the road, draining the water away.’
The man glared at her. ‘Don’t try and baffle me with logic. What am I going to do?’
It was probably a rhetorical question but Zoe, who was very literal-minded, said, ‘Call the AA, RAC, something like that?’
He scowled. ‘Do I look like the sort of man who’s a member of the AA?’
Zoe considered. She hadn’t thought there was a typical look to a member of a roadside rescue service but as she studied him more closely she noticed his curly, slightly too long hair was actually a very dark red. He had green eyes and curving mouth and a large, slightly hooked nose. She couldn’t decide if he was very handsome or really quite ugly, but she did have to admit he was extremely sexy. He looked like the kind of man who assumed he’d never break down.
‘What am I do to?’ he said, again rhetorically.
He triggered the devil in Zoe. She knew he was expecting her not to answer, or just to offer to go for help, but she decided to tease him. She felt slightly light-headed.
‘Well, there’re quite a lot of branches by the gate. Maybe we could pile them up under the wheel and you could reverse enough to turn.’ In spite of her desire to provoke him, it was a genuine suggestion.
‘You are a practical little thing, aren’t you?’ he said, making it seem as if it was bad to be practical, but he set off down the lane in the direction she’d pointed and then called imperiously over his shoulder. ‘Come on. I’ll need you.’
Infuriated at his manner – ‘little thing’? – yet pleased to be doing something active so her nerves about the upcoming competition could be worked off, Zoe followed
him
. But as she went she chided herself; this could get her into serious trouble.