Sean stood in silence, overwhelmed by the sights, sounds and smells of the street market, and allowed all of those happy memories to come flooding back.
The sun broke through the clouds and filled the space with light and a little warmth. The birds were singing in the London plane trees which lined the street and, for the first time in months, he felt a sense of contentment well up inside him.
Shockingly new. Depressingly rare.
But for once he did not over-analyze how he felt or push it away.
He simply gave in to the sensation and enjoyed the moment. Each breath of the heady air seemed to invigorate him. The long-standing stiffness in his neck and shoulders simply drifted away. Gone.
He felt engaged and buoyant at the same time.
He shook his head and sighed. Maybe there was something to be said for leaving the hotel now and again.
And he knew precisely who to blame.
The girl who was strolling down between the market stalls, oblivious to the world, a grin on her face and a skip in her steps. Living in the moment and loving it.
Gorgeous, astonishing and totally pushing all of his buttons.
Dee Flynn was turning out to be the best thing that had happened to him in quite a while.
Forget the rules. Forget over-analyzing his schedule and responding to every email that came in. Time to take some of that personal time he was due and had never taken. And he knew who he wanted to share it with.
* * *
Dee dropped her head back and felt the sun on her face.
Oh, that felt so good.
Okay, it was a pale imitation of the sun she had grown up with, but right now she would take whatever sun she could get.
‘Sunbathing already? Does this mean that you plan to strip off any time soon? Because if you do I can sell tickets and talk up the tea festival at the same time.’
Dee chuckled from deep in her chest.
Sean. His voice was deep, slow and as smooth as fine chocolate. Unmistakable.
She couldn’t be angry with this man. Not when the sun was shining and she had a new venue which was ten times more impressive that the Richmond Square hotel—not that she would tell him that, of course.
She lifted her head and turned to face him. And blinked.
Sean was smiling at her with his hands behind his back and a look on his face that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Tiny alarm bells started to sound inside her head, and as he stepped closer she fought the sudden urge to buy something from the haberdashery stall. Buttons. Ribbons. Anything.
He had something on his mind and she knew before he opened his mouth that it would involve her stepping outside her comfort zone in a serious way.
This must be how antelopes felt before the lion pounced.
‘Sorry I spent so long on the phone. Rob had come up with a few ideas about how to make the best use of your advice,’ Sean said and then paused.
One more step and he had closed the distance between them, but before she could respond his hand whipped out from behind his back. He was holding the most enormous bunch of tulips that she had ever seen. And he was holding them out towards her.
No—make that bunches. Lipstick-red tulips that called out to be sniffed; yellow tulips still in bud; and her favourite tulip: stripy parrot blossoms in glorious shades of white and red with splashes of orange and flame. All set off by swords of dark-green leaves with pristine, clean-cut edges.
Without a moment’s hesitation she clutched the flowers from his fingers and gathered them into her arms and up to her face.
It was spring in a bouquet.
It was heaven.
‘I thought that you might like them,’ Sean said with a smile in his voice.
She blinked up into his face, and was totally embarrassed to find that she could hardly speak through the closed sore throat that came with the tears that ran down her cheek.
‘Hey,’ he said in a voice so warm and gentle that it only made her cry more. ‘It’s okay. If you don’t like them, the flower stall has a great selection of daffodils.’
He ran his hand up and down her arm and bent lower to look into her face. His blue eyes showed such concern that she sniffed away her stupid tears and blinked a couple of times.
‘I love them. Thank you. It’s just that...’
‘Yes. Go on,’ he replied, his gaze never leaving her face.
‘This is the first time anyone has bought me flowers. Ever. And it is a bit overwhelming.’
Sean looked at her with an expression of complete bewilderment. ‘Please tell me that you are joking. Never? Not one boyfriend? Impossible.’
‘Never.’ She nodded, reached into her pocket for a tissue and blew her nose in a most unladylike fashion.
‘Well, that is totally unacceptable,’ Sean said and stood back up to his full height. ‘You’ve clearly been treated most shamefully and, as one of the many single men who would love to buy you flowers on a regular basis, I apologize for the oversight.’
Then he smiled with a smile that could have melted ice at fifty paces and which reached his eyes before he opened his mouth.
‘Perhaps we can help you to feel more appreciated. Are you doing anything this Friday evening?’
Dee reared back a little and tried to reconnect her brain. ‘No. I don’t think so. Why?’
‘Prakash and the other management graduates are meeting the hotel managers at a company dinner on Friday. Rob is flying in from New York and would love to meet you and talk tea.’
Then Sean lifted her hand that was not busy with the flowers, turned it over and ran his lips across the inside of her wrist, sending all chance of sensible thought from her brain.
‘And I...’ he kissed her wrist again, his hot breath tingling on the tiny hairs on the back of her hand, his gaze never leaving her face ‘...would love you to be my date for the evening.’
He folded her fingers into her palm but held her hand tight against his coat, forcing her to look into those blue eyes.
And she fell in and drowned.
‘Say yes, Dee. You know that you want to. It’s going to be a very special night.’
Words were impossible. But somehow she managed a quick nod.
That was all it took, because the next thing she knew she was walking down past the market stall in the afternoon sunshine with one arm full of tulips. And Sean Beresford was holding her hand.
It was turning out to be quite a day.
Tea, glorious tea. A celebration of teas from around the world.
Visualize a hot summer afternoon. Birds are singing and there is a warm breeze on your face. Scones and jam (no wasps allowed) and refreshing, delicious green tea in a floral-pattern china cup. Bliss.
From Flynn’s Phantasmagoria of Tea
Thursday
‘I don’t understand the panic. So you’re going on a date. With a multi-millionaire. To a management dinner, where all the Beresford hotel bosses will be lined up to kiss Sean’s father’s feet.’ Lottie nodded slowly. ‘That makes perfect sense to me. There was bound to be some intelligent man out there who could recognize a goddess when he saw one.’
Lottie waggled the