CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY THREE – THE GRUFF COOK

An easy silence settled between them as they worked, the rhythmic sounds of running water and clinking glass strangely soothing. It wasn't until Charlotte reached for a towel to begin drying that Tony spoke again. "You've got a core of iron in you, lass," he rumbled, not meeting her startled gaze. "Anyone with half a brain can see that." Charlotte blinked owlishly, utterly wrong-footed by the unexpected praise. "I... thank you?" Tony shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling like tectonic plates. "Just calling it like I see it. Takes a strong lass to weather a storm like that one out there and still keep her chin up." A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Charlotte's mouth. "I don't know about that. Some days it's all I can do not to throw in the towel." "Bollocks." The chef's tone was blunt, devoid of any real malice. "You're not the type to cut and run, missy. You've got a fighter's spirit – I'd wager my life on it." There was a certainty in his gruff words that gav