The Secret Ingredient

by Nina Harrington

  Until he left. And she would be right back where she started. Alone.

  Her gaze scanned his face. He was serious.

  As serious as the most forbidden fruit could be.

  ‘You don’t know how to give up, do you?’ Lottie said with a shaky smile.

  ‘Not good enough for you?’ Rob grinned back.

  And then he nodded his head up and down, just once.

  ‘Ah. I see your problem. You’re too afraid you might get used to the idea of having a fling? Maybe even like it. Yup, could be trouble.’

  ‘Come on, Rob. Your life and work is in California and you’ve already told me that you don’t plan to come back to London any time soon. I have my bakery and right now there are no plans to open a cake shop and tea rooms in Carmel. So thank you for the compliment, but you know it would never work out. I’m not interested in long-term relationships.’

  ‘Good. Because that’s not what I am suggesting. In fact, just the opposite. My rules are pretty simple: a short-term relationship between two consenting adults, no strings and no expectation of anything more than what we have for as long as we have it.’

  She looked into those eyes. Fatal mistake. It meant she was powerless to resist when he moved forward and pressed his long, slim fingers either side of her head and tilted his head to lean in.

  His full mouth was moist and warm on her upper lip, and she could not help but close her eyes and luxuriate in the delicious sensation of his long, slow kiss.

  Her arms moved around his neck, he moved closer, and she kissed him back, pressing hotter, deeper, the pace of her breathing matching his.

  Somewhere at the back of her brain a sensible voice was shouting out that this was not a clever thing to do.

  Bad Lottie. Very bad.

  His lips slid away down her jaw to kiss her throat so she could gasp a breath.

  ‘Take a chance on me, Lottie,’ he whispered as his cheek worked his way down the side of her neck to her collarbone. ‘I want to be with you, get to know you. Will you give me a chance to do that? Can you learn to trust me that much?’

  She forced her eyes open wide enough to see that his own eyes were closed, his face...oh, his face. She was so going to regret this. One of her arms moved around so that she could run her fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t know. It would mean that you have to be around long enough to find out. Can you do that?’

  He looked at her, his fingers pressing on her back.

  ‘I will be around long enough. Will you give me a chance?’

  She looked at him so long her stomach knotted up, his eyes scanning her face as though they were begging her to accept him. There was something in those eyes that went through her skin and penetrated her heart, blowing away any chance of resistance.

  There was a lot to be said for giving in to impulses.

  Lottie found herself grinning back at him, suddenly drunk with the smell, the feeling of his touch on her skin, the power of his physical presence.

  Her fingertip traced the curved fullness of this man’s lower lip, and his mouth opened a little wider at her touch.

  Lottie stared up at Rob, into his sea-blue eyes, and knew that he wanted to kiss her again. She focused on his mouth as his long fingers stroked the sides of her face.

  It terrified her. And thrilled her.

  She wanted him to kiss her. To make the connection she longed for. There was no way that she could freeze this man from her life—it had gone too far now for that to happen. Her lips parted and she felt his mouth against hers as her eyes closed and she let herself be carried away in a breathless dream of a deep, deep kiss.

  Tears welled up in Lottie’s eyes and she tried to turn away as a single bead escaped but it was too late. Rob wiped it away with his thumb, the gentle pressure stroking her cheek with such tenderness it took her breath away.

  How could she have doubted that this man was capable of being gentle and loving?

  Yes, loving.

  Her gaze scanned the cheekbones of his face, the bumpy nose, coming to rest on the bow of his upper lip above the full mouth. She felt as though she had known him all of her life.

  Her fingertip moved over the crease lines in the corners of his mouth and eyes, which she knew now were down to more than just laughter.

  Life had not been easy for this man. His love for his mother had driven him to take risks. If he had become ambitious it was not for his own ego. He had made sacrifices for the people he loved and would do so again.

  His hand slid from her cheek into her hair. Smoothing it back from her face as his lips pressed against her brow, closer, and closer.

  Her heart was racing, blood surging in her ears and she forgot how crazy this was as she closed her eyes and sensed the raw moistness of his lips on one eyelid, then the other. One of his hands moved around the curve of her waist, drawing her body closer to his.

  The delicious sensation of being wanted as a woman dulled any sense of control she might have had left.

  There was only this moment in time. There was only Rob.

  She needed him as much as he needed her. How had that happened? And why did it feel so absolutely right to be in his arms, feeling his fingers stroke her back and hair, his lips on the crook of her neck, his chin pressed against her jaw? She knew she would be powerless to resist if the heat of that mouth moved closer.

  She wanted him to kiss her again, and again, and her head shifted so that she could caress his chin and cheek. Her lips parted and she felt the touch of his tongue on her neck.

  Heaven was about to happen.

  The pressure of his lips increased as he moved slowly under her chin and nuzzled her lower lip, back and forth, and she was lost in the heat of his embrace.

  His hand slid down her arm and up to the hollow of her back, moving in slow circles on her skin at her waist, sending delicious waves of heat and desire surging through her body.

  Her eyes closed with pleasure. He was so good.

  There was a movement at her waist. He had started to work on the buttons at the back of her dress.

  She wanted him to. She needed him to. She wanted...him to stop!

  Something inside her screamed and she jerked her face away from his, her eyes catching a flash of his passion, his desire for her in that split fraction of a second before he realised that she was leaning back.

  ‘I thought I was ready for this. Truly, I did.’ She forced in a noisy breath. ‘And I’m not. I am so sorry.’

  His brows came together until understanding crept back into the rational part of Rob’s brain and he exhaled, very slowly. A couple of times. Before refastening her buttons, single-handed.

  His arm was still around her waist and he used his free hand to stroke her cheek as he drew her closer.

  She cuddled into his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, knowing that she was the cause of the palpitations and smiling at the need. The smell of his sweat combined with his aftershave filled the air she was breathing.

  Lottie pressed her lips together then closed her eyes and blurted out the truth before she lost her nerve.

  ‘I’m so tired of being average, and, most of all, I’m really tired of being so scared.’

  ‘Scared?’ There was concern in his voice. ‘What are you frightened of? Me?’

  ‘This. Intimacy. Letting go of my inhibitions and simply enjoying myself with another human being.’

  She squeezed her eyes tight shut.

  ‘I’m not a prude or frigid. That’s not the problem. I just cannot let myself relax. It’s totally ridiculous. I am an adult, I’m single, and I’ve had more chocolate profiteroles in my life than I have had orgasms. Which for a woman of twenty-seven is a disgrace.’

  Instantly she covered her mouth with her hand. ‘And I have no idea why I just said that.’
/>
  ‘A total disgrace. You’re a beautiful woman, Lottie. You deserve to be adored. Fed chocolate ice cream in bed every night. Whatever you want.’

  ‘Thank you. But adoration is not on my list of priorities right now.’

  Her hand pressed against Rob’s chest. ‘I am vanilla ice cream. Nice, dependable. Can be excellent. But on the whole pretty unadventurous and average.’

  The rumble of a deep-seated chuckle started low in his body but when he spoke the words were murmured through the lips pressed against her forehead as he hugged her closer.

  ‘I happen to like good vanilla dairy ice cream. There is nothing wrong with that.’

  ‘Now you’re trying to be nice to make me feel better. Please stop. It’s a lot easier if you slip back into the scamp role.’

  ‘Then let me ask you a question. How many times have you practised a recipe in that bakery kitchen of yours before you’re happy to serve it to your customers?’

  Lottie laughed out loud. ‘Way too many. It always takes me six or seven test batches before I have something I love.’

  ‘Right. Same here. The only way to get past average is to test yourself in a safe environment where you are in control and no one has to see the results but you.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so...but where are you going with this?’

  ‘Just this. It seems to me that the lovely Miss Rosemount needs to connect with her sensuality in a safe place where she feels comfortable and secure. With a lover who she can trust.’

  ‘Ah, that’s where you’re going. And I suppose you are the perfect candidate for the position? I mean job. Role. Oh, stop laughing.’

  ‘I can produce references and commendations should they be required.’

  ‘Your technical prowess is not in doubt. It’s the trust bit that’s the killer.’

  ‘You don’t trust me?’

  ‘I don’t know you! I’ve met Rob Beresford the chef and I’ve seen Rob Beresford the TV celebrity in action everywhere I look. And this evening I got to know Rob the teenage carer. But who is Rob when the only thing that separates us is a sheet and a whiff of bakery sugar?’

  ‘You’re looking at him right now.’

  Rob held his arms out wide.

  ‘How can you not know me? You’ve seen me with my mother and with Sean. My family are the people that matter in my life. All of the celebrity stuff is promotion, fluff, marketing so that I can earn a living. Look at me. Really look at me.’

  ‘What you said earlier,’ Lottie asked, her voice trembling and hesitant, ‘about only being interested in the short term. Did you mean it?’

  The pad of his fingertip scorched a path down from her temple to the hollow just under her ear.

  ‘Every word. That’s the way I live. No long-term relationships. No heartbreak. Just two adults who know precisely what they are getting into from the start.’

  ‘Is that what you told Debra? Because she was heartbroken.’

  Rob exhaled slowly. ‘Debra thought that she could make me change my mind, that she was different and special and that my rules didn’t apply to her. They did, and she didn’t like it. I’m not heartless, Lottie. I was sorry that she took it badly but it worked out okay for her in the end.’ His fingertips started running up and down her forearm, and every hair on her body stood to attention in response. ‘And it can work out okay for you, too.’

  Lottie blew out sharply and stepped back, both hands in the air, palms forwards.

  ‘Sorry, but this is a little too much.’

  His response was a knowing chuckle that rattled around inside her skull, intent on causing disruption.

  ‘You do realise that what you are suggesting is the nearest thing to training lessons! I mean, I’ve read women’s magazines and mix with girls who have paid professionals to help them in that area in the past. And don’t scowl like that—male escorts are not unheard of. You could probably do quite well in that line of work.’

  ‘Thanks for the compliment. I will keep that career choice in mind if I should ever fancy a change in direction.’

  He shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘You don’t get it, gorgeous. This is a one-time offer. You’re tired of being ordinary. I see the extraordinary. We’re both single, consenting adults and I would seriously love to get you naked and see what happens next. There. Is that honest enough for you?’

  His head tilted to one side and he turned on the killer smile that could melt ice at fifty paces. ‘So come on, Lottie, take a chance on a fling. You know you want to.’

  ‘Wait a minute. It’s one thing to brainstorm an idea, but making it happen and seeing it through are a whole different matter.’

  ‘Then I’ll make it easy for you. This is Saturday night and I am going to be in town for the next three days. Three days. Three interactive lessons. I could make a start tomorrow morning if you like.’

  ‘Tomorrow! That’s fast work, cheeky. Will there be an exam at the end?’

  ‘Oh, darling Lottie, you’ve already passed the exam. This is the higher education course where anything at all can happen. And I cannot wait to get started. But if you’re nervous—let’s say that we have an introductory taster session. On the house. Now how can you deny yourself that little treat? Tomorrow morning at the bakery. How does that sound?’

  Lottie flung her hands in the air. ‘Crazy! That’s how it sounds. In fact—’

  She never got to finish her sentence because Rob stepped in the moment she began speaking, pulled her towards him with both hands spread flat against her back, and pressed his mouth against hers. Not forcibly. She would have hit him hard if he had tried that. No, his lips and mouth moved against her lips with such exquisite gentleness that Lottie opened her mouth wider and moved into the hot moistness of that irresistible kiss.

  Helpless to do anything else.

  A bristly chin moved across her cheek and down into her neck.

  ‘I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep my hands off you. You are quite irresistible, Miss Rosemount. You know that, don’t you?’

  She grinned, unsure of her own ability to keep her hands off him at that moment, but that was not good enough, and Rob lifted her chin so that he could look into her smiling eyes.

  ‘Seriously? This is the craziest proposal that I have ever heard in my life and, believe me, after my career in banking that’s saying something. So on second thoughts, I appreciate your kind offer, but...’

  Before she could blink his arm wrapped around her waist, turned her towards him and Rob silenced her by pressing his mouth against hers in a kiss that was so all-encompassing, so demanding, and so very, very delicious that breathing suddenly became unimportant.

  The tip of his tongue touched her tongue, sending a shock of visceral desire to parts of her body that had been very short on action for a very long time. Desire: hot, real, undeniable.

  Rob pulled her even closer, deepening his intense kisses until she was light-headed enough to want him never to stop. ‘All you have to do,’ he whispered, his mouth closed around her upper lip, teasing and playing with it to open as he came up for air, ‘is nod once for yes.’

  She managed to make a gentle nod, before his head lowered and he gave her the sweetest, most loving, lingering, whispering kiss she had ever had in her life.

  ‘Quite irresistible. But it’s getting late for a couple of early birds like us.’

  His hands dropped to her waist and he stepped back, giving her the time to get her breath back.

  ‘The gallery is closed on Sundays and my mother is spending time with friends tomorrow, so how about I pop over to your place in the morning? It’s going to be fun.’

  He leant forward as she nodded her reply, and kissed her on the nose before grinning.

  ‘Try not to kiss anyone else in the meantime.’

  N
INE

  Where had all of these people come from at 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday?

  Rob squeezed his way past clusters of ladies with baby buggies chatting on the pavement tables outside a branch of a well-known coffee-shop chain, but kept his head down in case they recognised him.

  He had to lift his arms up high as a couple of rampaging teens hunkered low on skateboards sped down the pavement, causing chaos. Couples arm in arm, men in running gear, cyclists in bright Lycra, older men carrying newspapers, all were mingling in a typical London street with the thundering traffic only feet away.

  A low chuckle bubbled up from inside Rob’s chest and he smiled at an elderly lady who was looking at a bookshop window—then caught sight of him. She was clearly making the connection between the poster advertising his latest cookbook and the man strolling down the pavement next to her. Then she shook her head and shrugged. No, how ridiculous, it couldn’t be.

  He didn’t blame her for thinking that there was no reason why Rob Beresford should be walking down a London street on a Sunday morning.

  Sunday mornings were Rob’s one indulgence. Downtime from the mayhem of either a Saturday night restaurant service or a night spent at some hotel or business function.

  There had been a time when he would stagger home in the early hours with some gorgeous girl whose name he had written on the back of his hand using her lipstick and the light from whatever bar they had met in, but by the time he sobered up she would be gone and so would her name.

  The gossip press would be surprised to know that for the past few years he had been too exhausted to do anything on a Sunday but read the trade press from the balcony of his ocean-view penthouse apartment and fuel up with coffee and bad news about the economy. Business paperwork and phone calls and emails to Beresford hotels around the world took up most of the rest of the morning before he headed out to the beach to enjoy a long late lunch with his mum.

  It was a routine that worked for him. A few hours’ respite before the chaos of a new week and a diary that was booked months in advance. A week in one place? Unheard of. The last time was when the Beresford Chicago was hit with a norovirus outbreak, which had closed the entire hotel right in the middle of the conference season and he’d had to drop everything to fix the problem. Not good.