He was brought to a section partitioned off with preparation tables. Here only one person worked.
She looked up as they approached. The eyes that met his were as deep a brown as the chocolate which enriched his dessert. They seemed bottomless. Her face was free of makeup, which didn’t surprise him in a kitchen, flushed from working and decorated with a smear of chocolate along her jaw line that he wanted to lick away. Unlike most of the women he met, her face was round, not gaunt and he was struck by the fullness of her lips. She was cleaning her station and tendrils of her dark hair escaped from the hot pink bandana she wore that almost matched the color in her cheeks. From the length of the braid down her back, he could see her hair was long. Her uniform was covered in splotches making it look as though a child used her as a finger painting canvas. She was petite, and, though her outfit was loose fitting, he could tell she had some very womanly curves.
Hugo made the introductions. “Justine, Mr. Stade was most impressed by your dessert, and he insisted on meeting you. Mr. Stade, may I present Justine Caldorini, the newest addition to our restaurant.”
Adam reached for her hand and had to bring hers forward in order to shake it since she did not move. Perhaps no one ever came back to compliment her work before. Her fingers were surprisingly cool in his.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Caldorini. Your dessert was exquisite.”
The happiness that immediately showed in her face delighted him. Nothing pretentious or false in her reaction. “I’m glad you liked it,” she said so quietly it was hard to hear her above the bustle of the room.
“It was amazing. But tell me,” he leaned in close so she couldn’t miss what he said to her, “do you really believe a dessert can be ‘better than sex’?”
The smile rapidly left her face and her hand went limp in his grasp.
❄ ❄ ❄
She could not stop herself from gasping out loud. She felt completely caught, by his gaze, his smile, and his obvious – and unfortunate - knowledge of Italian. The name of the dessert was intended as a private joke. No one was meant to translate it, and if they did, she never expected they would tell her. She was grateful when Hugo didn’t comment when she suggested it to him. He was more interested in its taste then its name, and he hated admitting when he didn’t know something.
Naming her creations was one of her favorite parts of concocting desserts. It was like naming a child. She thought about what went into it and what she hoped would be the impression it would make on others. Was it strong and powerful like a dessert with chocolate and coffee or gentle and soothing, like something made with cream and ripe fruits? The ingredients as well as her own feelings were a part of each of the treats she crafted as well as the names she chose.
Tonight’s dessert was particularly special to her, invented when she was alone in her apartment late one night and craving something for comfort. Instead, what she ended up creating was something that excited and tantalized her. And afterward, made her unexpectedly sad. Which was when she realized she had made what she was truly longing for – a taste of passion.
She was tempted to toss out what was remaining and never make it again, but when her friend, Lorna, came over for coffee the next morning and gushed compliments over it after swiping some out of the refrigerator, Justine realized no matter how personal it felt, she would not keep it to herself anymore than an artist hides a painting of heartbreak. She gave it a name which was appropriate, and consoled herself with the knowledge her feelings about it would never have to be shared, only the dessert. That was safe.
But now, staring at the man who held her hand, she felt as if she were stripped bare. He was tall, although most men were to her since she was only five foot two, and the cut of his suit suggested power and wealth. The heat of his hand was warming hers which were always cool, something that helped her as a pastry chef. And she could not look away from the deep blue of his eyes. He looked excited and, she thought, sad at the same time. It was an unusual expression from a man with an air of command about him.
“You dessert was not only one of the most wonderful things I have ever tasted, but truly one of the most surprising.”
“I am flattered. What about it did you find surprising?”
“My own reaction to it.”
Justine didn’t know what he was referring to but his words reminding her of how she felt when she tasted it the first time. Tingles started on her tongue and quickly spread throughout her body. She blinked rapidly, wondering if he might have had a similar response. Before she could ask, a crash from another part of the kitchen had Hugo excusing himself and running toward the problem, leaving Justine alone with Adam.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.
“I’ve forgotten what it was.”
“The name of your dessert, do you believe it is better than sex?”
She smiled and could feel her facing heating, “I have had sex that wasn’t as good as my dessert, yes.”
“Good point. I think I have as well. Of course, if a man has to live up to the high standards of your cooking, he will certainly have to be special, both in bed and out.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Was he flirting with her? He might be, but she had so little experience with it she was afraid he was simply being kind. Most men didn’t pay attention to the female chefs and her rounder shaper also seemed to discourage men. Although perhaps it could be she discouraged them, as her mother suggested, but that was a thought for another time.
“It was meant as one. I hate to cut this short, Ms. Caldor, but since I am the host of the party out front, I must say good night. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope we have another occasion to speak.”
“Likewise,” she said, deciding it was a safe response. He kissed her hand, which was when she noticed he still held it, and unexpectedly stroked her jawline, showing her the chocolate that appeared on his finger from the touch. Her response was instantaneous and intense, and any doubts about him flirting disappeared.
He left as if nothing happened as Justine stood there frozen to the spot.
❄ ❄ ❄
Adam couldn’t get thoughts of Justine’s dessert out of his head, or forget the taste of her skin against his lips. Soft and sweet, both the woman and her confection. Unfortunately, there was no reason for him to see her again and it was driving him insane. Going to Lansing’s and dining alone would be odd. In the two weeks since he met her, he cancelled his other social engagements and found himself content to either work late or come home and relax. It was a long time since he did that willingly.
Most of the time he kept busy and didn’t think about how at thirty-six he had a lot of professional success and little else to show for his long hours and business skills. Most of his friends and colleagues were married, many with children, but for years he told himself he didn’t want it. There would be time later. Since his brief meeting with Justine, he couldn’t help wondering if later arrived had when he wasn’t expecting it.
It was while watching Like Water for Chocolate for the third time, a movie his assistant recommended when he kept talking about Justine and her cooking, an idea came to him not only for being able to see her again, but to have her all to himself. He needed to know if the initial connection he experienced with her was a result of the wine he drank that night, the dessert she created, or the woman. He was nearly certain it was her, but he hoped this arrangement would allow him to find out for certain.
He had to wait another three weeks before putting his plan into motion during which he vacillated between days of intense productivity as he threw himself into work to make the time go faster and days of near inactivity as he surfed the internet to find pictures of her and information about her background. From his research he learned she was from New England, had trained both at the culinary institute in Vermont and with pastry chefs in France and Italy. He smiled when he discovered the last piece figuring that must be where she learned Italian. She wrote a blog where sh
e posted about cooking , creating recipes, and her various successes and failures. He was taken with her honesty, humor and passion and looked forward to every new post. It was clear from what she wrote she was doing what she loved.
Finally the Saturday he was waiting for arrived. A pre-holiday dessert fest, he’d told her. A quiet night to indulge. He made it sound like an exclusive event. And it was – but not what he told her it would be. She buzzed the door of his townhouse at five thirty and he let in her and an assistant. For a minute he panicked he wasn’t going to have her to himself for the evening, but she explained Frank was with her only to help unload since there were so many pieces, several of which had to be kept level so the presentation wasn’t lost in the transport.
She gasped in delight when she saw his kitchen. “You like it?” he asked unnecessarily.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said with obvious and breathless pleasure. The tone of her voice went straight to his cock, and he wondered if he was going to make it until the official start of the evening at seven. “If I created a dream home kitchen, this would come very close to what I would design. Tell me the counter tops are marble, and you’ll have a hard time getting me to leave at the end of the evening.”
“They’re marble,” he said and hoped to hold her to her word. Before he could make a fool of himself, he gave her a quick tour of the room and showed her where things were stored.
“Great. I’ll be ready to go when your guests get here. You said you wanted me to wear something other than my usual uniform so I brought a different outfit to put on into before the event begins. Is there somewhere I can change?
My bedroom was his first thought, but instead he showed her the closest bathroom then said, “I’m going to finish dressing and let you get acclimated.”
As he showered he pictured her in the stall with him, all softness and curves. He imagined soaping her, tasting her, indulging himself in every part of her luscious body. He turned the water on cold before getting out. It helped, but not much.
❄ ❄ ❄
Justine was grateful Adam’s kitchen was so beautifully appointed. It kept her focus on the food and away from imaging what he was doing elsewhere in the house. When she heard the shower start, her pulse jumped as she pictured him naked and wet. This was going to be a long and challenging evening. As much as she was thrilled to have this opportunity to showcase her work to Adam’s guests, which would be good for her career and reputation, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing the type of women who would be here – women she was sure didn’t look anything like her.
They would be tall, slender and flawlessly groomed. Their clothes would fit perfectly and they’d walk on high slender heels without the hint of a wobble. The opposite, Justine thought, of herself. Genetics made certain she’d never be tall and the legacy of her Mediterranean heritage was full breasts and rounded hips. She was built to be everyone’s friend, not the one men lusted after. It wasn’t something that bothered her often, but since meeting Adam, she found him entering her fantasies with unnerving regularity. Those fantasies would probably end after tonight, and she wasn’t certain if she was grateful or disappointed.
Fifteen minutes before the guests were due to arrive, Justine plated the final dessert then went to change. She put on make up, although not a lot because she had a habit of wiping her face with the back of her sleeves as she worked, and a simple black dress she always felt beautiful wearing. She might not be able to compete with the women Adam knew, but at least she’d feel comfortable.
She was back in the kitchen when he walked in looking as good – if not better – than anything she created, and just as delicious. He wore black pants and a light blue silk shirt, no tie, unbuttoned at the neck. Her fingers tingled with the desire to touch the skin exposed at the opening.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“I am,” she said, thinking about all the things she was suddenly ready for. She hadn’t heard anyone arrive, but decided they probably came in when she was dressing.
“Great, let me help you bring some of these out. Follow me to where we’ll be eating.”
Nice ass, she thought, unable to stop herself, as they left kitchen. She gave herself a mental shake and braced herself for meeting people. They walked through the dining room, and she was surprised when they ended up in the living room. It was elegantly furnished with a small Christmas tree in the corner unexpectedly covered in tinsel as though a child had decorated it.
And there were no guests.
And there was a fire going.
And a bottle of champagne with two flutes on the coffee table, along with small plates, forks and napkins. No sign of other company to come.
He put the platters he was holding down then took the ones from her as she stood there frozen. Finally she found her voice. “I don’t understand.”
“I lied to you.” Justine said nothing, and Adam continued. “Ever since being introduced at Lansing’s I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I didn’t think you’d agree to go out with me based on our brief meeting, so I made up this dessert party.”
“So you could see me again?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but yes.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “There isn’t a woman in this city who wouldn’t jump at the chance to go out with you, but to see someone like me you set up this detailed scheme?”
“What do you mean someone like you?”
“Adam, I’m hardly the type of woman you are usually pictured with. Like the woman next to you at Lansing’s.” She had to keep herself from cringing. She’d peaked out from the kitchen after he left and saw the leggy creature who wrapped herself around him. She didn’t mean to let him know.
“Which suggests I’ve been with the wrong women.” She didn’t say anything, having no idea how to respond. “Why don’t we start with some champagne?”
“Okay,” she said.She was having a hard time wrapping her head around what was happening. And part of her wanted to run to safety of the kitchen, the one place she felt confident. Instead she tried to relax while the man of her most erotic fantasies poured her a drink, and she worked on remembering how to breathe.
“A toast,” he said, handing her a glass.
“And what shall we drink to?”
“How about the sweetness of discoveries?”
She gave him her first real smile since seeing his kitchen as they touched glasses. The crisp taste of the alcohol made her realize how dry her mouth was. “That’s delicious. I made something it will pair perfectly with – the strawberry topped meringues.”
“Then let’s start with those.” He gestured for her to sit down and then he joined her, his leg so close she swore she could feel the warmth of him. He chose one of the small red treats, then brought it to her lips. “You taste first.”
Without thinking, which she wasn’t certain she could do anyway, she opened her mouth and took a bite of the confection. He quickly ate the rest. Watching his lips and knowing he was looking at hers made her pulse race. She was grateful the light in the room was dim so he couldn’t see how flushed she was.
“Very different from your Meglio Sesso. Lighter.”
“I was lucky to find some very fresh strawberries today. Not many, so I couldn’t do anything too elaborate with them, but since you requested more of a tasting menu, I thought these would work.”
“It’s wonderful. Would you mind if I tried another way of tasting it?”
“Such as?”
She barely finished the question before he moved forward and captured her mouth with his. His lips were warm and felt better than they did on her hand. The warmth that moved through her would have made the hardest chocolate melt. When his tongue stroked against her, she opened her mouth eagerly. Enjoying his unique taste, she leaned into him for more and was thrilled to feel his hand caress her cheek.
“I was right,” he said against her lips.
“About what?”
“The dessert tastes better this way.�
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“What do you want to try next?” she asked and then pulled back when she realized how she sounded. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t appropriate it. I didn’t mean….”
“On the contrary, I hope you did.” He took her hand in his. “Justine, I know it was crazy and possibly wrong of me to bring you here under false pretenses, but if I’m successful in business, it’s because I trust my instincts. Something about your dessert and then you fascinated me in a way no woman has for a very long time. I knew immediately I wanted to see you again, and then when I read your blog….”
“You read my blog?” she interrupted. That was almost as surprising as learning it would be only the two of them tonight.
“I did, and I thought it was wonderful. Your love for what you do is apparent in every entry, and I appreciated your candor and bravery.”
“What bravery?”
“You are willing to write about your failures as well as your triumphs. Justine, your cooking made me want to try more of your desserts, but meeting you and then reading about you made me want to know you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“If you’re sorry I arranged this.”
❄ ❄ ❄
“Not at all,” she said, reaching out to put her hands on his chest. “I have never been more flattered.”
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He hadn’t intended to ask what he did, but there was something about her which made him want to be honest, to show her who he really was. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“I have to admit, I am still surprised by all of this. I don’t think a man has ever gone to so much trouble to spend time with me.”
“Then you’ve been with the wrong men.”
“No arguments. If you like my honesty, then I hope you won’t mind my saying I wouldn’t have thought I was your type.”
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