Sweet Days and Roses

By Rebecca Fairfax

Winter—spring? No—winter sparks!

Meet Hugo Winter, gorgeous fifty-something all-round perfect gentleman, and Alessa Marks, sexy late-twenties local journalist—and not really an elegant lady. While entrepreneur Hugo is at meetings with city luminaries and pitching venture capital ideas to fellow businessmen, Alessa's probably chasing a reclusive rock star for an interview or sticking her nose into a local scandal for her column, Sparks, in the Montford Herald.

When an unexpected meeting just before Christmas brings never-the-twain Hugo and Alessa together, sparks combust. But can a winterspring relationship, particularly one that starts out with passion hot enough to melt snow, really work out? Especially when Hugo's reluctant to speak about his past, making Alessa determined to ferret out his secrets? Will their love wither in the frost or bloom with the spring?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: May 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781839433962

Book preview

Author

Totally Bound Publishing books by Rebecca Fairfax

Rent-a-Perfect Gentleman

For the Fireworks

Winter Sparks

Rent-a-Perfect-Gentleman

SWEET DAYS

AND ROSES

REBECCA FAIRFAX

Sweet Days and Roses

ISBN # 978-1-83943-396-2

©Copyright Rebecca Fairfax

Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill ©Copyright April 2020

Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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Published in 2020 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.

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Book three in the

Rent-a-Perfect-Gentleman series

Spring, when a young man’s fancy turns to love…even with his wife?

Luc Ford, a highly focused, dedicated barrister, is on track to become one of the circuit’s youngest QCs. He’s always been an ‘all work and no play’ type, right from his schooldays, and that’s the way he likes it, ever since his one wild weekend resulted in him marrying in haste…and repenting at great leisure.

Helping his friend Xander by filling in as a hired escort at a charity evening, Luc is stunned to find that the woman who hired him is his wife, Catarina. Wild Cat, that spoilt little rich girl, that green-eyed, raven-haired wild child he met, bedded and wedded all in one weekend…only for her to leave him days later. Cat has grown into an even more beautiful woman, making it harder for Luc to resist her…the woman he’s never stopped loving.

Hope springs eternal, but even a second time around?

Dedication

To Michelle Tirrell. Thanks for all the suggestions and encouragement!

Trademark Acknowledgements

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Botox: Allergan Inc

Fracas: Robert Piguet

Harley-Davidson: Harley-Davidson, Inc.

Instagram: Facebook, Inc

Mercedes: Daimler AG

Range Rover Evoque: Jaguar Land Rover Automotive PLC

Rover: Jaguar Land Rover Automotive PLC

Chapter One

Luc paused and cast a slow, deliberate look around the wood-panelled courtroom, letting his gaze linger on the trappings of justice. The two tiers of heavy mahogany and dulled leather benches to his right were empty of a jury, just as no public occupied the long wooden benches behind him and to his left, although a slight cough came from the lone figure sitting in the Press section next to that.

While there was no witness in the dock between the barristers and the judge’s podium for this early hearing, an usher was in his usual place to the right of the judge, and Luc’s client sat with his solicitor behind the barristers’ tables. A shuffle of papers had him looking down. Saheed, Luc’s ex-pupil and now junior barrister at Luc’s chambers, pushed Luc’s notes along the surface of the table, bringing them a fraction nearer to him. Luc tapped the paper with one finger. Really? Saheed thought he’d forgotten his speech? No, the slight colour rising to his fellow barrister’s face signalled that he’d just now realised this was a deliberate pause, one which had the defence counsel staring at Luc.

Luc cast a final glance at the royal coat of arms overhanging the judge’s plinth and spoke almost conversationally, addressing his remarks to the defence. Negligence. I repeat the word. The accusation. Mrs O’Connor, I see neither your client nor his legal representative is present here. They didn’t need to be, for the management hearing, just as no gowns or wigs were being worn, but… But I trust you have informed him of the penalty he is likely to receive for committing such gross criminal negligence, dereliction that amounts to a textbook definition of tort!

Mr Ford…

Luc ignored His Honour Judge Stone QC, even though he’d pay for it, and sooner rather than later. ‘A blatant failure to exercise appropriate and or ethical care expected to be exercised in the specified circumstances. The harm caused by failing to act as a form of carelessness’…as my client’s evidence—particularly the emails he sent to his managers before being erroneously blamed and egregiously dismissed—will show equally as blatantly. Luc gave a slight bow from the neck to Patricia O’Connor, counsel for the defence.

Your Honour! the defence counsel protested to the bench.

Judge John Stone didn’t need to speak again, instead motioning Luc and Patricia to him. He waited until they stood before him, his almost-black eyes under their bushy grey eyebrows as stern as ever. Mr Ford, I know I don’t need to ask you if you are aware this is only the Plea and Case Management Hearing.

Your Honour?

As such, I suggest you can it! Save some fire for the trial, man!

In any other situation, an opponent would be smirking, but Luc doubted Patricia was. People didn’t, whether they were the accused, defendants or their counsel, before Judge Stone. No, they tended to sweat. Luc remained silent, only giving short answers when asked specific questions about evidence and witness requirements. Satisfied, the judge nodded.

Very well. A date will be fixed. He rose, and Luc didn’t need to turn to know anyone seated had risen with him. The man’s personality could do that, never mind the force of his office. Mr Ford, a moment in my chambers, if you so please… The judge’s tone made it clear this was no request. This was a command.

At Luc’s side, Patricia bristled. If this is pertaining to the case, Your Honour, I— A slight cock of Judge Stone’s head had her stopping on a penny. Oh. A Stoning. Oh, I-I mean… I’m so sorry…

You can’t possibly imagine I’ve never heard the term before? Judge Stone threw over his shoulder, sweeping Luc out for the pointed word, or Stoning, he wished to have with him. Luc walked beside the judge, matching his head-down, arms-clasped-behind-back pace along the corridors and up a floor through the year-round lavender fragrance of the County and Crown Court’s floral displays or floor polish—Luc had never worked out the source of the aroma.

Once the judge opened the door to his private chambers, that scent gave way to the old vanillin and leather of the many rows of books on the room’s open shelves. That ‘headmaster’s study’ feeling upon him, Luc straightened his suit jacket and ran a hand through his short, side-parted dark brown hair before entering.

Behind his desk, Judge Stone popped one of his not-quite-mint, not-quite-aniseed throat lozenges into his mouth, the smell of the white sweets and the crinkle of their red cellophane wrappers familiar. Sitting, Luc took one from the proffered dish. He’d been meaning to note the brand and surprise His Honour with them. Bola de Nieve, he read.

It translates as snowball, the judge explained, with a slight tsk. They’re what are called ‘chest sweets’ from the south of Europe. I got addicted to them on a holiday in Spain. Have to have ’em imported. So, big trial.

Preamble over. Luc nodded.

"Potentially long one too. Which is why it’s not a good idea to go off like a rocket. Whee-fizz! The judge’s little mime caught Luc by surprise. This is going to take a strong, steady burn. Candle, not firework. Clear?"

Yes, sir.

Especially with you applying for Silks.

Luc bristled this time. Do you feel it’s too early for me to want to be a Queen’s Counsel? I can assure you I’ve discussed this at length with my head of chambers and—

Calm down, man! The judge steepled his fingers. He barked out a laugh. Back when I was in pupillage, they’d have asked a man as wound up as you if you were…what was the phrase…ah yes, ‘gettin’ any’? He curled a lip in derision as he spoke and it took a second for the expression and the question to register with Luc, whose eyes opened wide. Of course, we don’t talk like that nowadays, Judge Stone continued.

Indeed, Luc commented. Sex had been far down on his list of priorities for a while now. He’d been focusing, working—

I’ve always refused to descend to clichés. Such as, all work and no play—

Makes Luc a QC. Luc ran a hand through his hair then flattened it again. He hated it spiky. The thought made him shiver. She’d liked it messy, or ‘human’ as she’d called it. Yes, I’ve been…busy. An understatement he’d never have used in court.

"And this case, this trial will, no is, hitting close to home."

Luc eyed the older man. Is that what this…

Stoning. Say it. The judge’s lips lifted.

"Yes, I’m not unfamiliar with workplace negligence. You know my professional record, and I, suppose, my biography, so you’re aware that my father was killed in a mining