Winterflood's Passion by Diana Thompson

Author:Diana Thompson [Thompson, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Romance
ISBN: 9780994332639
Publisher: For Pity Sake Publishing
Published: 2015-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

As the pale light of dawn filtered through the French doors, they made love again slowly, savouring each other. When they finally left Charlotte’s bed it was to enter the shower. They washed each other liberally.

“My turn to do breakfast,” Daniel said as he rubbed Charlotte dry. “I seem to have developed a ravenous appetite.” He grinned mischievously at her. “You can relax on the couch and soak up the sunbeams.”

Although fully sated from last night, Charlotte was a little bit stiff in places. She had once again used muscles that hadn’t been worked in a very long time. Snuggling into the sofa sounded blissful.

“How does bacon with French toast and Danish apples sound to you?”

“It sounds sublime!” Charlotte watched him from the couch, her legs tucked up beneath her. He seemed totally at ease, pulling out pans and bowls, rummaging in the fridge for various ingredients. His movements were so fluid, his shirt completely open, exposing his glorious muscled chest, his faded jeans clinging to his narrow hips and his feet sexily bare.

She watched him finely slice the apples, placing them in a heavy cast iron skillet with butter, brown sugar and cinnamon. The bacon was sizzling on the wide hot plate as he dipped the brioche he had thickly sliced into the beaten egg and milk mixture. The aromas coming from the stove were delicious and Charlotte realised she was starving, her tummy rumbling. Daniel picked up the heavy skillet, tossing the caramelising apples with an easy rhythm, the muscles flexing in his forearms below the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. Charlotte drank in every movement. She knew she would never tire of watching him, her heart flipping over in her chest, her breath catching and desire rising once again.

“Nearly done. I just need to flip the French toast, and if you can top up our teas, I think breakfast is ready.”

He piled up their plates with the golden brioche slices coated in the egg, the crispy rashers of bacon to one side and heaped spoonfuls of the caramelised cinnamon apple in the middle. They both ate ravenously.

Charlotte slid her empty plate across the granite bench top, “Forget art dealer and lover extraordinaire, your true talent is wasted Daniel. You should become a chef. This was fabulous.” Charlotte dabbed at her mouth daintily with a napkin.

“I aim to please, however if I concentrated on being a chef my other talents might fall by the wayside. I think you’d agree that would never do.” Daniel teased her with a lecherous smile, his finger tracing a line down her thigh.

Charlotte smiled back. “Mmm, yes. That would never do.”

She had started to pile the dishes into the porcelain sink, the hot water steaming up around her, when Henry knocked at the French doors. “Morning Charlie, Daniel.” He took his hat off as he walked in.

“Would you like a coffee or tea?” Charlotte started to pull out cups and place them on the granite bench.

“Thanks, but I’m fine for the moment.

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