Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,6

settee and he’d caught her just in time to stop her falling. Afterwards, she couldn’t remember how or when she’d wrapped her legs around his body, because her mind had stopped thinking altogether and she’d been so completely caught up in the exquisite pleasure of feeling that she was part of him and he was part of her.

But now, although the sex was still fantastic, it was the loving tenderness that seemed to be missing. Was this what happened to couples when they’d lived together for a while? Maybe it was a classic case of the honeymoon period being well and truly over. Deciding this was definitely a question for Sarah and Lisa on Saturday, she heard his key in the door.

“Hey, gorgeous, thought you’d be wearing your little black dress for me,” he whispered into her ear while she felt him cradle her back with his body. His feet were cold when he selfishly wrapped them around hers, and she could smell red wine on his breath, so she lay very still, breathing deeply and hoped he would think she was asleep. It worked and she felt him pull her further into his body and start to lightly snore. Christ, if anyone would have told her six months ago that she’d be doing this she’d have laughed in their faces. But she wasn’t laughing now; she moaned softly and felt a tear leak out of the side of her eye.

Chapter Two

Sunday had always been their special time together because it was Tim’s only free day from the restaurant and they usually had breakfast in bed, read the Sunday papers, and enjoyed making love at least once, sometimes twice. But when she woke, realised what day it was and felt him stirring beside her she wished it was Monday morning and she could run out to work. She didn’t feel like being romantic and sexy because she was still too hurt and annoyed and knew there was bound to be a quarrel about last night. A slight headache and dry mouth reminded her how much champagne she’d drunk and she tried to ease herself out of bed quietly to get a glass of water.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he drawled seductively, wrapping his legs around her.

She wriggled herself free. “Tim, I’ve a mouth like a sand pit and need the loo.”

“OK, but hurry back, I need you desperately.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered under her breath going into the bathroom. Filling the tumbler with water she gulped greedily. You would think his first words would be an apology about missing the party but this had happened so many times lately she knew exactly what was coming next. He would make love to her and promise faithfully not to let her down again. He would apologise that his job was taking up all of his time but that as soon as the restaurant was running smoothly things would get back to normal.

God, how many times had she heard that speech, she wondered, pulling a long T-shirt over her head, then collecting the newspapers at the front door. Heading into the kitchen she decided with a lonely social life like this she might as well be single again and then opened a text on her mobile from Sarah. Sarah had heard from Lisa that Tim didn’t go to the Savoy and there were words of consolation and support with a suggestion of meeting on Tuesday night for dinner.

She quickly agreed via text and then heard Tim calling again from the bedroom. “I’m coming,” she yelled back, putting coffee and toast onto a tray and then tucking the papers under her arm. But this time, she thought, heading back to the bedroom they were going to talk properly and it wouldn’t include love making instead of a proper apology and explanation. If she didn’t make some kind of stand with him now this was never going to stop.

Setting the tray down next to the bed he dived for The Sunday Times supplement and began scouring the food articles and recipes. While sipping her coffee she looked at his sleepy face and tousled hair and how he chewed on his bottom lip with concentration while he read. She’d grown to love the familiar sight of him and his little quirks but because there was still no apology forthcoming she began to munch her way through slices of hot buttered toast.

Suddenly he threw the magazine aside as though he’d just remembered she was there. “Hungry?”