Denying the Alpha: Manlove Edition

by 5 Author Anthology

  Unable to decide whether it was relief or irritation he felt when Barin simply took the tray of meat without so much as glancing at him, Quinn retreated to his workstation to prep the meat as he’d been ordered.

  The hours passed in a blur of cooking, plating, and cleaning up. When their shift was at an end, Quinn was finally able to ask Lucas about his talk with Barin.

  “So, it went well, then?” he asked as they exited the restaurant and headed to the car.

  “Very.” Lucas nodded. “Barin prefers savory dishes to desserts, so he said it’s a great advantage to have someone who likes patisserie. I think he’s irritated that Mark had let things slide so much that he couldn’t tell Barin who did what. And being made to look bad by Kevin just made it worse. But he really wants the restaurant to do well. He’s a really nice guy. You’ll like him, Quinn. You just need to relax more around him.”

  Relax, yeah right. Not something you do with an Alpha around. Quinn smiled at Lucas, even though he knew it held little sincerity.

  “I’ll do my best.” To have as little as possible to do with Mr. High and Mighty Alpha, Barin Thornburn.

  Chapter Three

  The following day, Barin, as he’d promised, called the staff one by one into his office to have a personal chat with them all. Despite which, to be summoned from the kitchen into Barin’s office left Quinn feeling like Daniel about to walk into the lion’s den.

  Only this lion wasn’t going to roll over and play nice kitty. Not that I think he’s a lion. Quinn squared his shoulders as he approached the door. But definitely something big, powerful, and an Alpha who’s used to getting his way.

  Drawing himself up to his full height, Quinn rapped smartly at the door, opening it to enter at the shout from Barin. Quinn shut the door behind him but only came a half a dozen steps into the office before stopping.

  Barin sat on the edge of his desk, his legs spread to evenly distribute his weight. There was no way for Quinn to miss the thick bulge at Barin’s groin. Oh, yes, everything about the man hit Quinn’s buttons. Except for two things. I’m not interested in being an Alpha’s sex toy, and I don’t do arrogant pricks. Despite himself, Quinn’s gaze dropped back to the unmistakable bulge.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Barin’s voice held an amused tone which only served to get Quinn’s hackles up even more.

  “Yeah? Ya think?” Quinn folded his arms and made sure to keep his gaze fixed on Barin’s glacial-blue eyes.

  “I’d like us to start over. Don’t forget, some of the reasons things went so badly were due entirely to Kevin and his deliberate intent to cause disruptions. I’d like to think that all my staff can see past his trickery and work with me.” Barin eased to his feet and held out his hand. “I’ve heard good things about you, and from what I’ve seen, you’re very talented. Can we at least be friends?”

  “Friends with privileges?” Quinn couldn’t stop the words sniping out, then he dropped his head. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for and very unprofessional of me.”

  “Then let’s start over.” Barin’s hand remained outstretched.

  Quinn wanted to stride over, shake the proffered hand, and walk right out, but every instinct told him he was walking into danger. Instead, he moved forward slowly, his nose twitching, smelling the air as he approached.

  All this time, Barin watched him, not a muscle moved, not even in his arm which had been extended for some time. Finally, Quinn felt he was close enough to shake hands without appearing churlish, but far enough away to still bolt for the door if he needed to.

  The moment their fingers touched, Quinn felt an unmistakable jolt, and Barin’s expression changed. But it wasn’t the triumph Quinn expected. It was pride. Quinn dropped the hand like it was a red-hot coal.

  “Fine. Start over. I’ll be in the kitchen.” The words almost stumbled out of his mouth as Quinn backed away. He still wasn’t exactly sure what kind of Alpha Barin was, but it was big and deadly. And it wanted him.

  “I think we’ll get on just fine, Quinn. In fact, I think we’ll be more than friends.”

  “No. We won’t.” Quinn shook his head firmly, turned on his heel, and with a determined effort, strode from the room without glancing back.

  ****

  The next couple of weeks found Quinn in an almost permanent state of alert. Even when Barin was on the opposite side of the kitchen to him, it was as if Quinn could feel the other man’s presence.

  Although his attention to work and the food he continued to produce didn’t falter in quality, Quinn himself was beginning to feel permanently exhausted. More than once, he and Barin clashed over what the restaurant should serve.

  Each time, Quinn readied for an all-out attack, and each time Barin remained calm and reasonable. Even when overruling Quinn’s suggestions. Even Lucas had noticed and commented on how tired Quinn looked. What is it they say, if you can’t stand the heat? I’d look for another place to work. Except Lucas loves it here, respects Barin, and Barin has been good for getting people working well together and raising the standard here, and fuck it all, I want to stay.

  Almost on cue, Barin appeared in the doorway. “Quinn, get someone to cover for you for a few minutes. I’d like a word in my office, please.”

  A couple of minutes later, Quinn stood in front of Barin, who seemed to take a perverse delight in sitting on the edge of the desk whenever Quinn was in the room. Quinn made sure to look at Barin’s face, although his treacherous gaze occasionally flitted down to Barin’s package.

  “You wanted me?” Quinn asked, hoping to focus on whatever business was on hand.

  “Absolutely.” Barin flashed a rare grin.

  “What?” Quinn narrowed his eyes, but Barin just continued to gaze back at him.

  “Are you afraid of me?” Barin’s tone was calm, inquisitive, but his eyes glinted with mischief, and something … hotter. He stood slowly, as if concerned that any sudden movement would send Quinn scurrying for the door.

  “No. Not at all.” Quinn glared up at Barin, silently daring him to make a challenge.

  “Good. I want you to come with me to Auckland for a couple of days. “The restaurant can manage. I’ve made arrangements to ensure it.” Barin folded his arms and a corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Naturally, if you’re not scared to be with me, there’s no issue.”

  It should be illegal for a curve of the lips to do the things it did to Quinn, and he resisted the urge to wriggle. Fuck, what do I do now? Quinn shook his head.

  “Can’t. I’m busy.”

  “I haven’t given you a date. If you’re doing something, change it. Unless you are … scared.” Barin leaned closer, and for a moment, Quinn was frozen in place, convinced Barin was about to kiss him.

  Then Baron turned on his heel and walked away to sit behind his desk and move his mouse. The device disappeared under Barin’s huge hand.

  “I’ll text you the dates. I’ll organize the flights and hotel. Oh, and Quinn, it’s a working visit. Bring your knives.”

  “I didn’t say yes.” Quinn growled out the words, but Barin didn’t look up from his computer.

  “But you will … come.” Barin glanced quickly up at Quinn. “You can return to the kitchen, Quinn. I’ll give you the dates later today.”

  “Arrogant Alpha bastard.” Quinn spun on his heel and stomped out of the office. Once outside, he leaned against the door while his thundering heart and errant libido subsided. He hoped Barin hadn’t noticed either. Bring your knives. Conniving bastard.

  Even as he thought it, Quinn knew he’d go, just as Barin had known. His curiosity was well and truly piqued, despite Barin’s infuriatingly smug attitude. Regardless of his irritation over Barin’s attitude, a frisson of excitement skittered along Quinn’s spine. A working visit. Where the fuck is he taking me? And why?

  There was only one way to know the answers, and Quinn was already deciding on what to pack as he made his way back into the kitchen.

  Chapter Four
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  Two days later, Quinn accompanied Barin to the local airport. At Barin’s insistence, along with his knives, Quinn had packed two outfits suitable for dining out, one to include a sensible pair of shoes. As tempted as Quinn was to say he wouldn’t be going out anywhere with Barin, he could hardly be so churlish when Barin hadn’t openly done anything to warrant Quinn’s snappy attitude.

  There was no direct flight, but fortunately, only one stop was involved when flying from Invercargill to Auckland, and that was Christchurch. As they waited for their connecting flight, Barin sat, his long legs stretched out, coffee in hand, and people watched.

  Although Quinn had brought a book with him, he found himself looking less at the novel and more at Barin. Much to his increasing frustration.

  “Good book?” Barin asked casually, without even apparently even looking at Quinn.

  “Yes.” Quinn inwardly winced at his defensive tone and hoped he didn’t get quizzed on it. Because right then he’d have no idea what he’d just supposedly read for the third time.

  “I believe he’s a good author. But I like sci-fi and fantasy. Nothing better than immersing yourself in a whole new world.” Barin flashed Quinn a white-toothed smile then focused on a point in the distance.

  “No. I guess not.” Quinn hadn’t given thought to anything that Barin might read. Gritty thrillers or crime would have been my guess. But sci-fi and fantasy? Never.

  The rest of the trip was uneventful, although Quinn was surprised to find Barin had booked a twin room with a harbor view in Skycity. Somehow, he’d expected to be in a cheaper hotel.

  The view from the room was spectacular as it looked out over Auckland Harbor. There were two good-sized beds, and a bathroom with separate bath and shower. But Quinn doubted they’d have much opportunity to sit and watch anything thing on the large plasma TV.

  “You can shower first.” Barin indicated the bathroom. “I need to call my friend, let him know we’ve arrived. Then we can grab some lunch and join him at his restaurant. Then we’ll be busy until the evening. But dinner’s already booked.”

  “Uh, sure. Okay.” Quinn wanted to ask twenty questions about where they were going, and what work he was doing, but Barin’s expressionless mien didn’t broker for discussion. Leaving the other man to make his call, Quinn enjoyed a shower, relishing its heat and power.

  As he emerged wearing the complimentary bathrobe, Barin greeted him with a wave of his cell phone.

  “It’s all arranged.” Barin set the phone on his bedside table and flicked open the buttons on his shirt. “There’s a cab booked to pick us up in forty-five minutes. There’ll just be enough time for some dim sum before we go, if I hurry, anyway.” Barin snatched up a clean t-shirt and underwear from his bed. “Lucas mentioned you liked Chinese food.” Then he was gone.

  “Yeah, great. Thanks.” Quinn made a mental note to ask Lucas if he’d given Barin any other titbits about him. Then he concentrated on being dressed before Barin returned.

  An hour later, their cab pulled up in front of one of the most prestigious restaurants in the city. Quinn stared at its name.

  “Your friend works here?” he asked.

  “Not exactly.” Barin shook his head. “He owns the place. Although he’s still classed as the head chef here. Let’s go.” Barin led the way, striding up the stairs and into the restaurant as if he was the owner.

  A tall, thin, elegantly-dressed man that Quinn assumed was either the maître d’ or perhaps the restaurant sommelier, looked up as Barin waved him a greeting.

  “Hi, Barin. Good to see you. The Maestro’s in the kitchen. He said to send you straight through. This our star chef for the degustation?” The man looked Quinn over from top to toe and a single eyebrow raised.

  “That’s right. Keep your mind on the wines, Dominic. See you later.” Barin didn’t even slow down, despite Dominic’s pout, and Quinn tried not to run to keep up with him. “Dominic’s a good man and an excellent sommelier. A genius at food and wine pairings, and extremely knowledgeable. He’s also a flirt of the highest order.”

  Hot on Barin’s heels, Quinn trotted into the kitchens. They were huge, and a hive of activity as men and women alike bustled back and forth.

  “Ah, you’re here, Barin. Good to see you again.” An older man seemed to materialize from the workstations, and Quinn thought he was going to have a fanboy moment.

  The chef embracing Barin was a hero of Quinn’s from his childhood. Although he’d envisioned one day visiting one of Jason Roberts’s restaurants, Quinn had never expected to be in his kitchen, much less about to meet the man himself.

  Over the years, his girth had spread and his hair, once dark and lustrous, was now cut short and was more salt than pepper. But the smile he directed at Quinn was still enough to make Quinn’s stomach do somersaults.

  “A pleasure to meet you. Barin’s not the type to be effusive in his praise. For him to do this … well, it’s a great reflection on your talents, Quinn.”

  “And to meet you, sir.” Quinn glanced to Barin, who just smiled.

  “Call me Chef, or The Maestro. You might as well, since you’re going to be a member of my kitchen staff.”

  “I-I am?” Quinn looked again toward Barin who nodded.

  “I said you’d be working.” Barin made a sweeping gesture. “This is where you’ll be working.”

  “Doing what?” Quinn asked.

  “I’m having a degustation tomorrow night and the pièce de résistance is goat.” The Maestro folded his arms.

  “Goat?” That surprised Quinn. Although it was becoming more popular in restaurants, it still wasn’t a mainstream dish.

  “Yes. I’m taking my inspiration from a chef I saw on television who used pretty much the entire animal. But I’m doing my own take on it. You will help me butcher and cook the dishes and serve them to the guests at my degustation.” He cast a sly glance at Quinn, his lips curved in a mischievous grin. “Think you’re up to it? Barin has every confidence in you.”

  “How many guests?” Quinn asked.

  “Thirty. All specifically invited by me. So I want this to go off without a hitch. These are restauranteurs, food bloggers, critics, magazine editors. People who can extol the virtue of goat and raise its image. They will also extol the talents of the chef creating and cooking the dishes. I expect perfection. From myself, and from those around me. Still up for it?”

  A thrill of excitement, and nervousness, scraped down Quinn’s spine, but he nodded without hesitation. “I’m in. What’re we doing?”

  “I want to use the livers to make pâté for amuse-bouches to serve with champagne while the guests are arriving. I’ve made my own goat’s cheese to go with roasted beetroot and candied walnut for an appetizer. For main, there will be slow-roasted shoulder, and a curry using the leg with a spicy yogurt marinade. Then we need to do the vegetables and a dessert. They will be done by my other chefs. But you, under my guidance, will be responsible for the goat.”

  “What’re you doing?” Quinn glanced at Barin whose enigmatic smile hadn’t wavered once.

  “I’m a guest, of course. Although I’m more than happy to assist with vegetable prep. Don’t ask me to help with desserts.” He held up his huge hands, and Quinn licked across his dry lips, suddenly imagining those hands on him. He shook his head. Not the time. Not the place.

  Both chefs looked at him, and Quinn’s cheeks heated. “Uh, no. Your talent isn’t patisserie.”

  “No. But I have a rare talent … for creaming.” Barin leaned in close to whisper the last words in Quinn’s ear before chuckling warmly. “With anything non-dessert related.”

  “Good. That’s all settled then. Quinn, get a chef’s jacket and bring your knives. We have a lot of prep to do today. I hope you weren’t expecting to be out and about much on this trip.”

  “I’ll treat him to a meal tonight.” Barin grinned. “Hopefully he’ll have time to eat it rather than falling asleep face-first in his appetizer.”

  “Har-fucking
-har.” Quinn growled, but there was no real menace in the sound and Barin just laughed all the harder with Jason joining in.

  “Good to see you boys have such a good vibe. Some chefs I see just want to tear anyone they see as competition to shreds, no matter how talented they are. Right. What are you two waiting for? Get moving.” Jason clapped his hands, and Quinn scurried away to find himself some chef’s whites, Lucas’s words ringing in his brain. A good vibe? That’s what he picks up from us? Fuck, I thought … forget it. Concentrate on this degustation.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Quinn was back at the hotel, he could see why Barin had made the joke about falling asleep in his appetizer. Jason, The Maestro, had been exacting in everything Quinn had done. But Quinn was pleased with his efforts.

  The meat had been butchered, the shoulder meat was ready for slow-roasting early the next morning, and the legs had been boned and butterflied and were marinating in yogurt and spices.

  This time the shower not only made Quinn feel clean but soothed his aching muscles. Once showered and shaved, Quinn gelled his hair so it stuck up into sharp, dark spikes, and went out into the bedroom.

  “All yours.”

  “Thanks. Won’t be long, we have a yacht to catch.” Barin rushed past him, and Quinn barely had time to register what he’d said.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were exiting a taxi. Quinn had expected Barin would want to eat in one of the top restaurants, but to his surprise, when they reached the harbor, Barin did indeed point to a yacht.

  “Prepare to be a tourist. We’re having the dinner cruise.”

  “So that’s why you said to wear sensible shoes.” Quinn shook his head. “I’ve never done this.”

  “I have. A while back. The food may not be to the standard expected by Jason, but it’s good, and the cruise is very therapeutic. Just relax, enjoy, but I’m afraid I’ll have to limit alcohol to just a decent bottle of bubbles. We have an early start tomorrow and will need clear heads in the morning.”