The Little Paris Patisserie: A heartwarming and feel good cosy romance - perfect for fans of Bake Off!

‘Oh, you’re Scottish,’ she said. He looked thoroughly French to her.

‘And I left the kilt at home today,’ he teased, a warm friendly smile breaking through, making him look a lot more approachable and less film-starry.

It was impossible not to smile back at him. ‘Sorry, I assumed you were French. You must be Sebastian’s friend, the manager.’ Despite his formal three-piece suit, now that he was smiling at her, Alex didn’t look particularly managerial. With that impish smile and readiness to laugh, he looked more like an overgrown naughty schoolboy.

‘That would be me. Yes. And don’t tell my mother you thought I’d be French. She’d be outraged. It’s bad enough I’m working over here, rather than in a good, fine city like Edinburgh, which is only five minutes down the road from her.’

‘Ah, she’s on the same page as my mother. I’m Nina. Sebastian’s new … right-hand-woman.’

‘Ah, the little sister,’ he said, his eyes dancing with sudden amusement. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘None of it good, I’m sure,’ said Nina, her mouth twisting with a rueful smile.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Alex with a quick reassuring grin and she was warmed by the flash of concern in his eyes. ‘I take everything he says with a pinch of salt.’

‘That hasn’t made me feel any better.’

Alex’s smile slipped. ‘Hey, he’s grumpy with everyone at the moment. I’ve known him for a while, I count myself as one of his best friends and he’s being a complete pain in the arse. But it’s always stressful getting a new venture up and running. Although—’ his eyes lit up with mischief ‘—if the awkward bugger isn’t careful he’ll find himself down into the wine cellar with the rats.’ Nina bit back a laugh. She liked Alex’s cheery down to earth delivery, he reminded her of her brothers.

‘It would be stupid to ask if the awkward bugger is in.’

Alex laughed. ‘He’s in and exceptionally grumpy. You might want danger money to enter. He got it into his head that he had to wash his hair this morning and insisted that I help him at silly o’clock. Trying to keep him upright in the bathroom over the sink was like helping Bambi on ice. Then the stupid bugger decides he wants a shower. I think we must have used an entire industrial roll of clingfilm.’

Nina smiled at Alex’s comical face pulling.

‘Sounds like quite a performance.’

‘Put it this way, he’s been resting ever since. I popped in to check he was still alive.’ Alex’s face sobered and he lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder as if Sebastian might appear at any moment. ‘Between you and me, I think—’

A walkie talkie at his hip crackled into life.

‘Alex, we have a problem.’

‘That’s going to my epitaph.’ With a quick frown, he snatched it up. ‘Be there in five. Right, well, I must be away. I have a hotel to run. Nice meeting you, Nina. I’m sure I’ll see you again.’ He turned and yelled, ‘I’m off Bas, I’ll check in on the invalid tomorrow but Florrie Nightingale’s turned up to relieve me.’

With a cheery wave, he walked past her to the door.

Sebastian was hauling himself to his feet as she walked in. ‘You’re late.’

‘Sorry, I got …’

‘Save it, we need to get a move on.’ Sebastian’s dry words made it clear he wasn’t impressed.

She plastered her pleasantest smile on her face, the one where her grin stretched into her cheeks and made them ache just a little. She was not going to let him get to her. She was going to be sweetness and light. Learn all she could from him and suck it up.

‘Would you mind bringing my laptop and paperwork?’ He gestured with the crutches, indicating he couldn’t manage both.

Before she could say anything, he was off like a racehorse at the starter gate. Once out of the lift, he made surprisingly brisk progress, swinging on his crutches, planting them quickly and ploughing through the lobby like a man on a mission before taking the ramp out of the hotel onto the pavement.

The concierge had a cab waiting for them and opened the back door for Nina and she was about to slide in when Sebastian tutted loudly.

‘You’ll have to go in the front seat.’ He hopped awkwardly in a circle so that he got in bottom first.

‘Oh, sorry. Yes, of course. Let me help.’ She hurriedly dumped his laptop bag on the front seat so that she could take his crutches from him.

Sebastian slid back onto the seat so that both his legs were propped up lengthways.

The taxi driver turned around and let loose a torrent of French with urgent gesticulations.

‘Yeah, yeah. I’ll put the seat belt on,’ said Sebastian, twisting around to try and pull the buckle around him.

After a couple of attempts, it was clear that he was at too much of an awkward angle to pull it out and round him.

The taxi driver folded his arms. They weren’t going anywhere until that belt was secured.

As Sebastian let out a loud exasperated huff, Nina dumped the crutches on the floor next to him and leaned in to try and help. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy and there was nothing for it but to plant a knee on the seat between his legs, which would have been fine if she hadn’t then overbalanced slightly, her hand grabbing his crotch to steady herself.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she squeaked. Avoiding looking at him, trying to be practical and matter of fact, she reached around his shoulders to grab the belt behind him, which was an even bigger mistake as it meant she came nose to chest. His hands closed around her forearms to steady her and, startled, she looked up into his face, which was the biggest mistake of all. There were tiny russet flecks in the dark brown eyes which were now studying her warily. Her breath felt unexpectedly tight in her chest. She could see the nearly opaque S-shaped scar on the top of his cheekbone and the impossibly thick eyelashes. Her pulse thundered in her ears and then for some bizarre reason she blurted out, ‘You smell a lot better.’

He raised one of those ridiculously elegant, for a man, eyebrows and stared at her.

She swallowed and shrugged, unable to look away. ‘I meant…’ Her voice trailed into silence. For a few seconds she met his steady gaze, her heart bumping uncomfortably.

It was impossible to read anything in his expression, the dark eyes watchful and unblinking, although she noted his jaw was tense and he still looked a little pale, with that tightness around his mouth. Mind you, that had been there for a long time. He always looked serious when she was around, probably terrified she might get the wrong idea again.

Ducking her head at the memory, which still had the power to make her blush, she gave the seatbelt another tug and managed to pull it round him but still not quite close enough to slide the buckle into place.

‘Thanks. I can take it from here.’ Sebastian’s caustic voice cut through her thoughts as he took the buckle out of her hands. Her brief quick blink was the only sign she gave of the current of awareness that went sizzling through her, setting her nerve endings dancing with sudden glee. She snatched her hands away horrified that the barely-there impersonal touch could still have such an impact.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_178e8787-a101-564c-b6a6-2f72e0a98595)

Working for Sebastian, Nina decided, was not going to be much fun. With his growls and snarling bad humour he was the original bear with a sore head. No wonder Marcel was keeping a low profile, taking advantage of the inaccessibility of the shopfront. The taxi had brought them round to the back door of the kitchen, which had no steps, and Sebastian had no desire, it seemed, to venture any further and attempt the small flight of steps up into the corridor to the shop.

‘Not there Nina,’ corrected Sebastian, as she moved one of the benches. ‘Over here, I want a “U” shape. And then you can put all the scales out.’

She pressed her lips together firmly, keeping her back turned as she lifted the corner of the heavy table and manoeuvred it with a series of horrible screeches into place.

‘Christ, do you have to do that?’

She did it again just to bug him. The table was bloody heavy. What did he expect? She hadn’t signed up for full scale furniture removal. Eventually, she’d arranged everything to his satisfaction.

‘Right, I’d like you to prepare a work station for each of the participants. We’ve got four now. One extra booking I could have done without.’

Nina looked down at her feet, thinking of Marguerite.

‘We’ll set up with all the utensils they’re going to need. First up tomorrow is choux pastry, so we’ll need…’ He reeled off a quick-fire list. He had her racing around the kitchen grabbing whisks, saucepans, measuring jugs, sieves, bowls and wooden spoons, while he perched on a stool, his blue cast propped on the rung of another stool, and peered at his phone, making regular exclamations, muttering to himself and scowling at her.

Feeling rather proud of herself that she’d managed to remember everything he’d said and laid it all out neatly, she stepped back to survey the kitchen.