The Holiday From Hell

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Authors: Demelza Carlton
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chaise. The first time in over a century that she'd seen one in a home. "Mmm, having my own personal, very sexy chef beats room service. Is there anything I can do to help?"
    "No need. You just relax and let me take care of you." Luce deftly flipped, sizzled and sliced her breakfast in the pan, serving it on two plates that he set on the tiny table. He'd already laid the cutlery out with two glasses of juice. Waving around the table, he added, "Breakfast is served. I can't find the coffee maker the website said was here, so it'll have to be juice until I can find a coffee shop in town. And ask the owner about the coffee maker." His eyes flashed darkly. "Everything here should be perfect for you and I don't want anyone spoiling it."
    Mel slid into a wrought iron chair. "With or without coffee, this looks magnificent, my love. Thank you." She waited for him to sit down so she could lean forward to kiss him. "And my morning is perfect so far." She sliced a small bite of omelette and popped it into her mouth. "Mmm."
    Luce shovelled a forkful of egg and mushroom into his own mouth and chewed moodily. He didn't say another word until he'd cleared his plate, shoved back from the table and clattered his dirty dishes into the sink. "I'm going into town to get coffee."
    Mel watched in fascination as Luce grabbed his keys and opened the front door. A gust of wind fluttered his boxer shorts, making Mel reach for her jacket. Winters in Western Australia were cold, even without snow. Luce slammed the door shut and stomped across the floor to his suitcase. Several minutes later, the fully clothed Lord of Hell thundered down the stairs to the car park. A spray of dust and gravel marked his passage as he drove up to the road.
    She finished her breakfast at a much more leisurely pace and decided to wash the dishes before leaving them to air-dry on the draining board. Next order of business was a shower and fresh clothes.
    Mel had just finished braiding her damp hair when she heard a key in the door. Figuring Luce would be burdened with coffee, she crossed the room and opened the door for him.
    "Oh, hello." Greg looked more surprised to see her than she was, but he also looked relieved. "I realised I forgot to bring up the new coffee machine yesterday. I found it sitting on the bench and thought I should give it to you right away." He held up the box, but didn't offer it to her.
    "I'm not an expert with coffee machines," Mel admitted. "Luce is the one who knows what he's doing, but he's headed up to town to get coffee. You just missed him. It's probably best if you set it up and tell me how to use it."
    After several minutes of flipping through the instruction book and peeling away packaging, Mel and Greg worked out that the coffee machine was surprisingly easy to use and she offered to make one for him.
    He shook his head. "I should go. The cellar door downstairs opens for tasting in a few minutes and there's always someone who arrives right at ten on the dot." He hesitated, then ploughed on, "Look, I'm sorry I used the key instead of knocking, but I saw your…husband go out and I was working late last night, bringing some new stock up from the bottling room. I happened to glance outside when you and your husband returned and I saw him carrying what looked like your unconscious body upstairs. When he left without you this morning, I thought the worst and I had to check. I mean, your husband is a very…forceful man and he might have…done something." He reddened, as if embarrassed to be admitting any of this.
    Mel took pity on him. "Luce isn't my husband. Neither of us is married. I'm Melody Angel – Mel." She offered her hand and he shook it. "Luce can be very intense sometimes and people do tend to get the wrong impression about him. He's very protective of me, especially at the moment, as I'm not well. He's brought me here for my health, in the hope that a holiday will help me recover. I fell asleep in the car last night and I woke up to

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