Be Careful What You Wish For by Alexandra Potter

Author:Alexandra Potter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781848941649
Publisher: Hodder Ome
Published: 2006-10-14T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-four

I arrive at James’s flat to find it candlelit, the large oak dining-table set for two, and an ice bucket with champagne already chilling. It’s so romantic it’s almost textbook in its perfection. As he takes my coat, pulls out a chair and cracks open the Veuve Clicquot I feel a little overwhelmed.

‘A toast,’ says James, passing me a flute of champagne.

Smoothing the bit of my dress that I forgot to iron, I look at James. He clinks his glass against mine, gazing at me intently, and I know I should be feeling all – well – romantic. ‘To us,’ he says, his voice heavy with implication.

But instead I feel faintly ridiculous. ‘To us,’ I whisper. Out of nowhere I have an urge to giggle. To crack some stupid joke that’s not even funny. Like Gabe kept doing the other night when I was watching Love Actually on DVD, and I kept having to shush him by hitting him with a cushion.

‘So,’ James is saying, touching my cheek, ‘did you like the roses?’

‘They were beautiful,’ I say, banishing all thoughts of Gabe and his terrible jokes, which seem to haunt me. ‘I left you a message. Didn’t you get it?’

‘Yes,’ he smiles, ‘but I wanted to make sure.’ He begins to nuzzle my neck.

‘Oh, really?’ I whisper, standing still, the urge to giggle vanishing. To give James his due, he has an amazing knack of kissing me right where . . . Oooh. As his mouth circles the soft flesh under my chin I abandon any self-consciousness and tilt my head back with pleasure.

‘Because I couldn’t help noticing . . .’

Enjoying the heady sensation of champagne bubbles fizzing on my tongue and his lips moving delicately across my cheeks with soft, feathery kisses. I close my eyes and feel myself letting go.

‘. . . they only sent nine roses.’

I snap my eyes wide open.

‘Didn’t you notice?’ he says, looking at me now with concern.

I can’t believe it. He noticed. ‘Erm . . . no, I don’t think so,’ I say.

Head tilted back I stare at the cornice.

‘Yes, there were definitely only nine,’ says James, kissing my neck again, only now it’s irritating rather than sexy. ‘I counted them while you were changing. I’ll call the florist tomorrow.’

‘No, don’t. Honestly, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter.’ I don’t know which I’m more alarmed by: that he might call the florist, or that he counted them. Pulling away I reach for the champagne bottle to top up my drink, only I do it too quickly and the bubbles overflow down the side of the glass.

‘But I asked for a dozen red roses,’ he continues, quickly grabbing a napkin and pressing it around the side of my glass to blot up the excess.

‘Don’t worry, I have plenty.’ I squeeze his arm.

‘I know, but that’s not the point,’ he says, dropping to the floor and feverishly dabbing at the rug, although I’m sure I didn’t spill that much. It was only a dribble. ‘You can’t send nine,’ he mutters.

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