the room and in the space of a condemning glance had reduced her to a dithering wreck.
Everything ruined in the blink of an eye. She would be sacked for this. Lucy’s eyes welled with tears at the thought. She had planned so carefully, getting up at four to prepare the chalet and start cooking for the new guests.
She had left nothing to chance. There was a log fire blazing in the hearth, and fresh flowers she had arranged herself to bring the delicate fragrance of the French countryside into a chalet so clean you could eat the cordon bleu feast she had created off the lovingly polished oak floors. The menu she had devised encompassed every delicacy she could think of to tempt the palates of sophisticated men. Those men were currently lounging on the sofa, their faces registering varying degrees of surprise at her ineptitude, while the man in the shadows, the man who had compelled her attention from the moment she left the kitchen, gave off an impression of biting reproof. Her lovingly prepared tray of canapés was upturned in a puddle of vintage champagne and she had not only knocked the tray off the table when her gaze had locked with his, but had sprayed the designer jeans of a man whom, apart from the striking good looks he shared with his companions, she had barely noticed at all. Her attention had been wholly focused on the stranger staring at her now, and in holding that stare she had caught the toe of her shoe beneath the rug and had blundered forward.
How could a man standing in shade give off so much light? How could green eyes burn so fiercely? How could a man framed by four astonishingly good-looking friends eclipse them completely?
Breaking eye contact with him, she determinedly shook herself back to the task in hand. She had worked hard for this job and had no intention of losing it in the space of one compelling stare. ‘My apologies, gentlemen—if you will allow me to, I will quickly repair the damage—’
Then He stepped forward, blotting out the light. ‘Don’t you think we should complete the introductions first?’
There was no warmth in his voice. That was not a suggestion, but an order, she concluded, quickly trying to collect the crushed canapés from the floor. ‘Yes, sorry—’ She looked up, only to find her gaze level with a part of him that shocked her rigid. Jerking her head up past the heavy belt securing his jeans, and on over the tactile dark blue top he wore with the sleeves pushed back revealing muscular arms, she saw a face of impossible design, a face so strong and beautiful she could have stared at it for ever. He had wild, thick, blue-black hair that caressed his chiselled cheekbones and fell in heavy waves across his proud, smooth brow, while some of it had caught on sideburns that mingled with the night-dark stubble on his face.
Wow, she thought silently, standing up.
Wow again. One Other was a mountain of a man, a man with hard green eyes and an uncompromising mouth. She didn’t need to be told that he was the lead guest, and not just the lead guest, but the leader of the pack. The man with the voice like bitter chocolate was the man she had to please or lose her job. No wonder he came with a not so subtle warning, she thought, remembering the scrawled note from her manager on that week’s guest list.
She was still standing speechless when the kind man called Tom came to her assistance. ‘And this is Lucy,’ he announced smoothly.
Having introduced her, Tom stepped back.
Chapter Two
RAZI took in the trail of collapsed canapés on the floor, and yet more crushed in the girl’s hands. Being ever the gentleman, Tom was being careful to hide his thoughts, but it was clear to him that the blushing, flustered girl currently hopping from foot to foot in front of him wasn’t up to the job. She had gone to pieces like her canapés, spilling expensive champagne all over the floor as well as over William Montefiori’s jeans.
‘It’s nothing,’ William murmured, with relaxed charm, easing away from the promise of more disaster. ‘I’ll go and change.’
Razi was not so forgiving. His thumb was already caressing the speed dial to his personal chef.
‘Allow me,’ his friend Theo cut in with a predictably wolfish smile. Removing the cloth from the girl’s hands, Theo proceeded to hold her troubled stare as he dabbed ineffectually at the puddle of champagne.
‘For goodness’ sake—’ Razi’s whiplash tone prompted Tom to snatch the cloth from Theo and repair the damage as quickly as he could. Razi doubted either of them had ever held a cleaning cloth in their life and wouldn’t be doing so now if they hadn’t some intention of getting into the girl’s knickers. As for the girl, she was too badly shaken up to do anything—shaken up by what, exactly, he’d find out later.
‘Lucy,’ Tom repeated discreetly in his ear. ‘Lucy Tennant, our chef and chalet girl.’
‘Lucy…’ His friends faded into the background. The girl was visibly trembling. He saw how young she was then and flashed a reprimanding glance at Theo. The girl was not only unused to such an imbalance of female hormones and testosterone she was terrified of losing her job.
‘Pleased to meet you, sir.’
In her favour, her voice was musical, her stare direct, but that was no excuse for ineptitude. He employed the best across his organisation; only the best.
‘Lucy won the chalet girl of the year award,’ Tom broke in helpfully.
‘Thank you, Tom,’ he murmured in a voice that clearly said, Not now. Tom’s soft heart was one thing, but he was conscious of how slender a thread his leisure time hung on and how soon this last ski-break indulgence would end. When he looked at the girl he was working out how much incompetence he was prepared to put up with before he ordered in his own staff and they took over.
‘And you are?’ she asked tentatively, her cheeks pinking up as she made a last stab at maintaining the formalities.
He looked at Tom for inspiration.
‘Mac?’ Tom suggested with a shrug.
‘Mac,’ the girl repeated shyly.
Their gazes remained locked and her grip was warm and firm as they shook hands, though she removed her hand from his faster than he would have liked. The report he’d received about her said she was self-possessed, calm, intelligent, organised, multilingual and a cordon bleu chef. The last two he had no proof of yet—strike the rest.
Then she surprised him.
‘Once again, I apologise,’ she said, almost literally shaking herself round. ‘I hope the accident won’t spoil your enjoyment of the meal I have prepared.’
‘Not at all,’ Tom chipped in, falling silent when Razi shot him a warning stare.
But something did smell good. ‘What’s on the menu?’ he demanded.
She brightened and immediately proved to be one of those people who could deliver a menu and make the palate sing with greedy anticipation.
‘Freshly made French onion soup topped with a slice of Parmesan baguette, followed by crispy duck breast in a fruit reduction, with a chocolate torte and cinder-toffee ice cream to follow.’
‘I say,’ Tom exclaimed, while his other friends sighed happily, prepared to forgive her anything now. Even Razi was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. If Lucy could deliver what she’d promised she could stay with his blessing too.
‘Tom,’
