by Michele Hart
Now that he held her pay for walking into his life, he knew he needed to go over there and put Elissa at ease. She looked a little anxious and he’d never intended to abandon her, despite her refusal to return to his side.
He’d have to pay her back for that.
A glance to Sissy found her on her cell phone, a discomposed frown on her face as though something disturbing had happened, and he was pretty sure he’d better find out what.
The house was filled to near-capacity, and it was time to stamp out the myth that Greg had become boring.
He elbowed Derek in the ribs. “It’s a losing night for you. You’re about to give Allen fifty bucks.”
Greg sauntered over to Elissa and Sissy, and in plain sight of fifty stuffy relatives, neighbors, and business acquaintances, he took Elissa into his arms, dipped her, and planted a hellfire kiss to her mouth. She smelled and tasted like toffee, must’ve been wearing toffee lip stuff, whatever girls wear that tastes so good. She tasted delicious, and he considered consuming her right there.
Surprised, Elissa fell right into his showy kiss, and he wasn’t pretending. Greg unleashed a whirlwind kiss of enthusiasm onto her, not to be mistaken for a first kiss on anyone’s scale, though it was.
For a moment of blissful pleasure, she forgot the audience and gave in with an awakening lightning and surrendered to his takeover. It was a PG-13 kiss, bordering on an R rating, and it sent a shockwave through her. He smelled of sandalwood. Greg’s kiss set off explosions.
He parted from her too soon and set her back to her bleach-stained high-tops before everyone’s astonished sight. Her heart must’ve stopped for a moment because she felt a little dizzy and experienced a sad tickle travel through her with his parting.
“I hate to interrupt you two passion flowers,” Sissy put in, closing her cell phone. She gave Greg an ominous look of pain. “Julian just found the stock room back door pried open. He thinks the restaurant might’ve been robbed while the staff was busy.”
Chapter 4
Alone in the empty restaurant, Elissa sat at the same shadowed table Greg and she had occupied just a few nights ago, and she realized he had more to do with Rubia’s Restaurant than just being friends with Sissy.
Fiddling with bottles of wine lying in oaken sleeves built into the walls for distraction, Elissa watched as Greg spoke to the police along with Sissy, Allen, Derek, and a tall, barrel-chested man in chef garb, long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. Greg hadn’t yet offered an explanation of why it was his business if Rubia’s was robbed, not that Elissa required one. She was just curious. Seemed a funny thing for him to have left out. As in, funny-strange.
Greg moved through the kitchen and office as though he knew the place by heart. The restaurant had been closed, and the staff had been dismissed, due to the police investigation. Greg sent the only server left to their table to deliver coffee, so Elissa occupied herself with blowing the heat off the java and appreciating the quiet, elegant atmosphere.
She figured out by the way Sissy directed staff and the fact she’d received the robbery report by phone that she wasn’t just the bartender but the restaurant manager. Sissy looked a wreck, worry hanging her raven brow over her eyes, her arms snaked across her bosom as though she attempted to block distress of the entire affair. Greg rubbed her shoulders in a familiar gesture, an attempt to relax her, no doubt.
There was something about Greg that caused Elissa pause. The kiss at the party changed things, and it shouldn’t have since it wasn’t real. She still felt his kiss tingling on her lips, felt her tight control of her focus and her life loosening. Now she was interested in too much of him, wondered when their next appearance would be and if it would involve another kiss.
That was bad.
Her eyes roved over Greg as he spoke to the police. The kiss made her realize how easily she could fall for him, and that would cost her everything.
Finally, Greg broke away from the police as they wound down their investigation for the night, and he joined Elissa at the table.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said, as he settled himself in the seat opposite her, and cupped his hand around his cooling coffee. “A great way to ruin an evening.”
She smiled, remembering how he’d bent her back in front of the party participants and given her the smokin’est liplock of a lifetime. “That call came at the worst time.”
Greg whipped out a stunning grin, proud of himself. “Pretty good kiss. I’m going to hear about it for weeks. Are you hungry?”
“Can’t say I could eat a meal. I availed myself of the party’s goodies.”
“Well, you’ll have to make room in there some way. I’ve asked Julian for a special request, something you’ll like, I’m guessing.”
The lone server approached the table, and they exchanged a few words. Greg signed a receipt, then came back to her. “I guess I didn’t mention I work for Rubia’s.”
She cocked her head sideways, recalling what he did say. “You’d told me you were a business man, something about franchises and paperwork and nausea.”
“Family business. Rubia’s Restaurant had been hatched by my great grandfather at the turn of the century after arriving from New York, and Italy before that. I manage the business aspects of it.”
“That explains why we’re here. Was much taken?”
He wore a bewildered expression. “That’s the weird part. It doesn’t look like anything was taken.”
“That’s pretty odd,” she commented, applying her powers of detection to the scene without looking too obviously familiar with such things. She had to be careful not to sound too official. “Any guesses on who might be the culprit?”
He shook his head. “Rubia’s has no enemies. I’ve a theory on this break-in. It’s probably about Julian.”
The tall, well-built man in his late twenties with thick blond hair tied back and wearing a food-smudged chef’s coat appeared from nowhere and set two slices of dark cheesecake before them, then he smiled warmly, and offered his hand in greeting. “You must be Elissa. I’m Julian, Greg’s cousin.”
She shook his hand and returned a smile, then she gazed hypnotized at the tasty work of art placed before her. Chocolate cheesecake. A light brown sauce she suspected was toffee had been poured over the dessert, and a dark chocolate draped over that to drip into a pool of toffee sauce all around the cake. Thin swirls of a white chocolate sauce decorated the top. It was a work of edible art right out of an international cookbook, too pretty to eat, too yummy-looking not to eat.
She smelled toffee, dark chocolate, cheesecake, and coffee. What a combo. Then she cast her sight up to a smiling Greg. The view was heavenly too. She wasn’t all that sure she hadn’t dropped dead from some sudden and exotic heart condition and wasn’t in Heaven now.
She smiled up at the bear of a man. “Pleased to meet you, Julian. You’re an artist. Now that’s the way to introduce yourself to a woman, bearing beautiful cheesecake. That’s just fail-proof strategy.”
The men laughed.
“Sit and join us,” Greg prompted, but Julian shook his head.
“I’m running some tests in the kitchen for the Bay Cook-off. Working on some new recipes, something that’ll knock their knickers off.”
“You’re the genius who catered the party tonight,” she said, awed by his talent. “If Greg can cook like you, I’ll keep him.”
“He’s no cook,” Julian spouted and gave his cousin a light punch in the shoulder. “He’s a zero-chaser and not worth keeping.”
Greg winked at her. “I cook in other ways.”
“I’ll say,” she replied, recalling that mind-boggling press of his lips.
Julian belted out a laugh. “Allen and Sissy told me about the kiss. I’ll bet you shocked more than half the house. Hey, what gave you the idea for a chocolate toffee cheesecake?”
Greg pointed to her, surprising her.
“Elissa wears some kind of perfume that smells like toffee. She makes me hungry for swee
t things when she’s around.” He beamed, his pretty brown eyes fixed on her, causing her shallow breath.
“Butterscotch toffee,” she expounded, working to keep her embarrassment of his subtle invitation low-key. She definitely was unused to compliments from a man, especially looking this bad.
Drawn by the culinary masterpiece set before her, she stuck her finger into the pool of still-warm brown sauces poured over the dessert and tasted it. She couldn’t stifle her groan of ecstasy over dark chocolate and toffee together. “Dear God, that’s good, Julian. The sauces alone taste incredible.”
The chef produced a satisfied smile, making his dark eyes twinkle in the nicest way. “That’s what I do it for.”
“The adoration of women?” Greg asked, and Julian nodded.
“Worthy call,” Greg concurred, clearly approving of his cousin’s slick employment of alchemy, “turning food into love.”
Julian looked her over with a critical eye, and she loathed to meet anyone in this ratty condition. He probably pitied his cousin at the moment. “Show Greg some fun, will you? He overworks himself, and he’s the dullest guy I know.”
“I resemble that remark,” Greg countered.
“Oh, you’re a dead ringer for that remark,” his cousin tossed back.
“Go away.” Greg waved his hand at Julian as though he swatted a pestering buzz fly. “I’ll beat you up for your lunch money later.”
“If you find me broke, will you give me a raise?”
Greg released a sarcastic whine. “Not on your best day. Win another Bay Cook-off, and we’ll talk.”
“Consider it done, and write me up a fat raise. It’s time for that Porsche you owe me, you cheap bastard. I’ll get back to my mad-scientist experiments and see you in the morning for the stock check.”
“No,” Greg insisted. “Sissy and I can do the count, not your worry. You’ve cooked all day for the party and the restaurant. Take the next few nights off. Call Val to cover your shifts and get some rest.”
“That’s one thing I can do. Have a good night. What’s left of it,” Julian said, with the edge of laughter in his expression.
Greg and Elissa said their goodbyes to his cousin, and they were alone again, all alone in a quiet restaurant. One or two employees milled in and out of the kitchen doors far away, doing small jobs and watching them covertly.
Chocolate toffee cheesecake stood before them.
Greg unrolled the linen napkin, employed his fork to stab the point of his cheesecake slice, and he stretched across the table to offer her his first bite.
His deep voice, terribly sultry, suggested, “If we feed each other in front of our audience, it will appear as though we’re falling into fascination with each other.”
It made sense for the bet. He was supposed to fall for a woman just for her mind, and there were two Amigos in the house at the moment, so Elissa submitted to his food mesmerism and took his offered bite into her mouth. She wasn’t going to blow the fun.
Oh.… The cheesecake tasted so creamy and smooth and thick and sweet and ... enchanting. She sighed. “I can’t say I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious. You sure know how to shoot straight to a woman’s heart.”
He beamed. “Food as Psychological Weapons 101. It’s a course in culinary school and military intelligence.”
She had to laugh. He was funny.
She arrested her fork, took up a nice bite of cheesecake, swirled it into the delectable sauces, and offered it to him, dripping toffee all the way to him, which he accepted with enthusiasm and a groan that caused her a cool awakening. Listening to him make resonant moans tickled her all over as she wiped the mess she caused on the tabletop with her napkin.
“I thought I was the only one over eight years old who made yummy noises when I ate something extraordinary.”
“You’re not the only one,” he assured her, loading the next bite of culinary ecstasy.
“I feel awful with you introducing me to friends and family when I look my worst,” she said, unwilling to check the mirror and confront the reality of a pale and uninteresting face, hair smoothed into a severe braid, dopey hat, and wearing awful eyeglasses. It wasn’t her in the mirror.
“Don’t feel bad. Little do you know your appearance in the restaurant a few nights ago was noticed by many. I let Julian in on the gag, and he’s all for costing the Amigos bucks. When I told him you and that hot, red-tressed goddess were one and the same, he made me tell him twice to make sure he heard it right.”
She felt herself flush under his regard. “Well then, I’m even more sorry you have to see me looking so crummy.”
Appearing as though he’d just bested Deep Blue in chess, Greg chewed his bite slowly, savoring his cousin’s artwork and he swallowed, then he leaned back in the booth seat and laced his fingers behind his head.
“It’s not hard work. When I look at you, I see you as beautiful as you were that first night all dressed up. The first time I laid eyes on you.”
Elissa smiled demurely. God bless him for saying that.
Wishing to shift the subject from her, she told him, “I’m afraid our revenge will have to dance around my schedule now. I snagged a serving gig at Club Reno’s, and I’ll be working most nights.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” He leaned and dug for his wallet, and she watched him pull out some bills. “I roughed up the Amigos for your money.”
“You’re a restaurateur and a bouncer.”
“I do what I can. The money ought to help.”
“Thank you,” she replied, both relieved to see the cash and feeling like a rat for taking it. “Unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep me afloat. Life’s getting more expensive every day.”
“I remember the cost of college. You’re not footing the bill on your own, are you?”
“Not wholly. I’ve won some small scholarships and grants, but it still doesn’t cover everything. Where did you study and what subject?” she asked, curious.
“I studied in New York, basic business and economics. My father had planned for me to take over the business, but he’d passed away early, and it all fell into my hands sooner than I’d expected. I finished my degree and came home.”
She noticed he didn’t say where he’d gone to school. “So you’re the man of the house now.”
Greg nodded. “You could say.”
He took up the second fork in his napkin, and spun it on one of its tines for entertainment. “So where did you find toffee perfume? It drove me to Julian’s cheesecake.”
Elissa emitted a ticklish laugh. “Butterscotch toffee body spray. Penny gave it to me as a birthday gift.”
“Tell Penny I said thank you. It’s the best gift I’ve received this year. Where did she find toffee perfume? I didn’t know such a marvelous thing existed.”
She held back the knowledge that the body spray tasted as good as it smelled. “It can be found.”
With a stone-cold sobriety, he stated, “Penny should be elevated to hero status. That smell keeps me hungry.”
She deflected any secret meaning. To think she could make him hungry sent her into fantasy.
“I’ll let Penny know she’d been nominated for the Nobel Prize for birthday gifts. This is unearthly cheesecake. The creamy taste awakens every cell of my being. Julian is a master,” she commented, giddy with Greg to fill her vista.
Another bite of cheesecake for each of them, and they spent the moment enjoying the flavor and gazing at each other. She enjoyed the darkness of his eyes, pecan evolving to chocolate in shade under the romantic lighting, and she had dark chocolate on her plate for comparison.
“You do that so nicely.”
“What? Chewing?”
“Well, yes, that, but I referred to the moaning.”
She put her forehead into her palm and leaned against the table, wishing to crawl under the furniture. She hadn’t noticed she’d moaned again just gazing at him. “Well, a girl can hardly chew quietly with a nice-looking man watching so intently.”
Now was a good time to die by embarrassment.
He took up his dessert fork and stabbed another bite of cheesecake, swirled the bite around in the sauces, and offered it to her. Delighted under his concentrated attention, she opened her mouth, and he delivered the delight sloppily, sending a drip of butterscotch sauce down her chin, raising giggles from them both. She wiped the drip away with her finger and sucked the sauce from it, and the way Greg’s big brown eyes watched her accomplish the task stirred butterflies in her stomach.
The angel on her shoulder reminded her she should face her time with Greg as a job, and not let her soul react so. But the devil at her other ear shouted, What are you, a nun?
At half-consumption of the chocolate toffee cheesecake, the dessert took her over. “You play dirty. I don’t know if I’ve ever tasted anything like that before. It’s orgasmic.”
That special word alone produced the biggest smile from him yet.
“It’s Julian’s magic,” Greg explained, as she hoisted another good-sized bite of the cheesecake, rubbed it in the sinful sauces, and fed it to him. His audible bliss warmed her. The distance between their plates was a gooey roadmap of dripped sauces.
“Everything Julian creates is a masterpiece. Best chef in Tampa. When Julian dies, he’ll be God’s chef.”
“God’s a lucky guy. You said this break-in has to do with Julian?”
Greg nodded. “That’s my guess. He’s preparing for the Bay Cook-off next weekend, so he’s creating.”
Another scrumptious bite from his fork, and she savored it before swallowing the incredible treat. “The food you sent home with me was scrumptious.”
“It’s not likely you’ll find better. Straight from Earth’s top culinary school and Julian’s wonderful mind.”
“I can’t wait to see what he comes up with. Maybe I can talk the business manager into cutting me in on that action. I’ve never tasted better food.”