Page 18 of Christmas Spirit
Nicholas tilted his head. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting dinner up in here. I hope that’s acceptable?”
Nicholas indicated the space in front of the bay window, beyond which was an Earth-bound Milky Way, as snowflakes glowed white against an ink-dark background.
Roland stared at the table set for two. A tingle crawled up his spine and spread out over his scalp. There’d been no table. He’d stood next to Georgie, at the window, and there had been no—
“I brought the table in and set up when you and Mr. Forrester were talking, sir. I had no wish to interrupt.”
“No. I mean yes.”
Do I?Roland had no idea. It wasn’t a big room, so how had he, and Georgie, missed the old man lugging in a table, spreading the tablecloth, arranging the place settings? And the trolley, next to the table?
The alcohol, the low lights, the warmth of the fire. That’s all it is. And I’m tired.
They took their places and Nicholas indicated the trolley.
“It’s a set menu which I hope will find favour with you both. A rich beef casserole cooked in red wine and served with creamed potatoes and winter vegetables. To follow, sticky toffee pudding and custard.” The man smiled down at Roland.
Roland’s stomach clenched down on itself. Overwhelming hunger consumed him, and his mouth watered. It did find favour with him. He’d spent a lifetime eating the finest foods, but slow cooked beef casserole had always been his comfort food of choice.
“Excellent. Thank you,” Roland croaked. The old man’s smile grew wider, and he turned his attention to Georgie.
“And for you, sir?”
“Sticky toffee’s my favourite. Especially with hot, sweet custard. You can’t beat it.”
“Indeed you can’t sir, indeed you can’t. Especially in the depths of winter.”
Nicholas began to serve. Roland’s mouth watered as his stomach rumbled; he hadn’t realised how hungry he was, despite the afternoon tea that had been delivered to their room.
The rich aroma of a winter casserole, heady with garlic and herbs, was a full-scale assault on his senses.
He glanced across the table at Georgie, who watched wide-eyed as Nicholas heaped his plate high. Roland’s lips threatened to twitch a smile. And then he remembered. Georgie had gone without breakfast and lunch because he’d been scrubbing out the cold store and re-rinsing glasses, when everybody else had been tucking into the festive themed breakfast and lunch buffets he’d personally set out for his staff. An assortment of dainty sandwiches and pastries would have made only the smallest of dents in Georgie’s hunger.
No wonder the boy looks like he’s starving.
“I trust this meets with your approval, sir?”
“I’m sorry?” Roland said, jolted out of his thoughts. He gazed down at the bottle Nicholas was holding out for his inspection. It most certainly did meet with his approval. It was a perfect match for the casserole.
Nicholas poured a small amount into Roland’s glass for him to taste. Liquid silk coated his tongue. Roland resisted the urge to purr with pleasure, as instead he nodded for Nicholas to fill both his and Georgie’s glasses.
“Bon appétit, gentlemen.”
A moment later, Nicholas was gone.
Chapter Ten
“This smells amazing.”
Georgie breathed in deep, filling up his senses. His nose twitched. Lots of garlic, so it was just as well he wasn’t on a date, not that he’d been on any of those in recent months.
Opposite him, Roland forked a little into his mouth, narrowing his eyes, his face a study in concentration as he slowly chewed then swallowed, groaning his delight as he slumped back into his chair and smiled.
I wonder what he looks like when he comes…
Fucking hell, where didthatcome from?
With a hand that wasn’t as steady as he’d have liked, and with his head bent down so he wouldn’t have to look at Roland and think aboutthatagain, Georgie picked at his food, his appetite blunted suddenly.
