Page 36 of The Cake Fairies
“This button here makes things go a little faster.”
She couldn’t have fought it if she’d tried, when his hand took possession of her index finger, sparks fizzing and rippling through to her palms, up her inner arms and beyond, as he guided her lightly to touch the silver button without pressing it into action. Goddammit, she was melting. Everything the guy said and did was laced with sex. Either that or she was translating his intentions into the filthiest of contexts in her very persuadable mind.
Polly couldn’t put words to the notes of bergamot and ambergris either, but one thing was for sure, that subtle aftershave had her body firing off rockets, bangers and Catherine wheels. This had to stop.
She ducked and slipped beneath his outstretched arm with what she hoped was the finesse – and grace – of a lioness.
“Tempting as it is, I’m not trying to recreate the pottery scene fromGhost. No need to look so worried.”
“What?”
“You mean you haven’t seen it?” His eyes grew wide.
“Yes… yes of course I have.”Something else to look up later on the Internet. Oh, the irony, when the only reason they were here was to get people off it!
“Anyway, you’re all set now, and my work here is done.” He walked away and picked up his drink. Her heart nipped at their sudden distance. Her head was delighted. “Just make sure you secure the lid. I’ll make a start on thecrème patsince that will need time to cool, and technically I guess you’re giving me and your cousin the go-ahead to do all the decorating.”
“S’pose.”
She mentally added‘crème pat’to her endless list of cutting-edge lexicon to translate.
“Oh, and I hope you don’t mind but I’ve just worked out the rough calculations for the measurements. This,” he dropped a piece of paper full of figures next to her, reigniting her pulse. “Should make plenty for a giant version of the Swedish summer cake.”
“Right, great, thanks,” she mumbled.
He might have told her sooner. Polly weighed out yet more ingredients, adding and subtracting in her head to take into account the half-hearted job she’d already started, cursing the tremble of her hands, yet secretly proud of herself for surviving this totally uncalled for scenario from hell. Speaking of which, she’d strangle Annabelle when she saw her.
Once she was satisfied she’d rectified everything, she pressed the ON switch, this time mercifully devoid of hunky helping hands. There was no point ‘pulsing’, that would take forever, and she was keen for Alex to leave – like yesterday. She stepped back from the mixer, nursing her cold coffee, thinking ahead to her perfectly sculpted sponges she knew he’d never be able to emulate, not even in a million years. Ha! Which was precisely when a volcanic eruption of daffodil-yellow cake mixture flew up out of the machine, its centrifugal force covering Polly, the floor, and the worktop completely. She let out a delayed reaction screech and a timely tendril of batter drizzled down her nose, resting on her upper lip. She refused to lick it.
“What did I tell you about keeping a lid on it?”
Alex clutched at his stomach, huge guffaws of laughter rebounding around the kitchen.
