Pure Indulgence

Jack turned into the Seaport Village parking lot, parked his Escalade, and headed to the directory in front of the shops. He found a listing for Pure Indulgence and followed the map to her place of business, which was located between a wind-chime store and an art gallery.

He stepped inside the bakery shop and was immediately embraced by the delicious fragrance of sweet confections and baked goods. It was after six in the evening, yet the place was impressively packed with customers waiting their turn to order from the glass displays filled with an array of cakes, cookies, candies, and other treats. Two young girls worked quickly and efficiently behind the counter, but Kayla was nowhere in sight.

It would serve him right if she wasn’t there, since he hadn’t called ahead to make an appointment. But instead of planning a meeting with her, which seemed impossible with his schedule lately, he’d grabbed the first free moment he’d had in days, and before anything else could demand his attention, he’d headed toward Seaport Village.

After a few minutes of waiting for the crowd to thin, he caught the attention of one of the workers and motioned her over. “Excuse me, is Kayla Thomas here?”

The girl eyed him curiously. “Did you have an appointment to see her?” she asked, though her cautious tone told him she didn’t think it was likely.

The woman obviously thought he was selling something, when in fact he’d be buying. But he understood the woman’s hesitation, as well as her loyalty in protecting her boss from unwanted solicitors. “She should be expecting me,” he replied easily, and with just enough assertiveness to sound confident that Kayla would agree to see him. “Tell her it’s Jack Tremaine.”

“Let me see if she’s available,” she said, then disappeared through a swinging door that led to a back kitchen area.

Kayla was immersed in accounting paperwork in her office when her full-time employee, Sarah, knocked lightly on her open door, then stepped inside.

“Do you need help out front?” Kayla asked automatically.

From six to seven during the week was the shop’s busiest time, when tourists wanted a sweet treat before heading back to their hotels, and locals stopped in to buy their families’ favorite dessert on their way home from work. Kayla was always prepared to step in and help at the front counter if necessary.

“It’s the normal six o’clock rush, but we’ve got it under control,” Sarah assured her. “Actually, there’s a man here who asked to see you. His name is Jack Tremaine, and he said you were expecting him?”

Just the mere mention of Jack’s name was enough to send an unexpected warmth spreading through Kayla’s veins, not to mention a good dose of shock. After five days of not hearing from him, she’d convinced herself that he hadn’t been serious about his interest in revamping his dessert menu. She’d also considered the possibility that he’d found a more experienced, well-known company to handle the job instead of taking a risk with a small, up-and-coming bakery.

She’d finally come to terms with that probability, and now here he was, asking for her—and she was nowhere near prepared to see him again. Not mentally, anyway. She felt thrown off balance, and she didn’t care for the bit of hope scratching below the surface of her shock.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to regain her composure, and said to her employee, “Give me a minute, and I’ll be right out.”

Once Sarah was gone, Kayla stood and made a quick trip to the rest room. As she was washing her hands, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and cringed. Good Lord, she looked a mess. Then again, she had spent most of the day elbow-deep in flour and sugar.

She took off her stained apron, but there were a few smudges of chocolate on her baggy T-shirt that she couldn’t do much about. As for her hair, wispy strands had escaped her ponytail and there were sugar granules on her cheek. She wiped them away with her hand. She didn’t wear much makeup, but what she had put on that morning was nearly gone. She found herself opening the medicine cabinet over the sink and using the colored, flavored lip gloss she kept in there to keep her lips from getting dry and chapped.

She made a sound of disgust at herself for even primping that much for Jack Tremaine. He wasn’t there to seduce her, for crying out loud, and she had no desire to try and impress him. Okay, so that was a blatant lie, but what he saw was what he got—a woman who worked hard for a living and had no qualms about looking the part.

With a decisive nod, and determined to be all business this time with Jack Tremaine, she headed out to the front of the shop.

Broad-shouldered and a good six inches taller than any of her customers, all of which at the moment were female, she was able to spot him immediately. He was standing by one of the display cases, checking out the goods and conversing with a few of her customers who no doubt were drawn to his good looks and disarming grin.

He’d obviously asked about their favorite Pure Indulgence desserts, because the older, gray-haired woman next to him was raving about the Boston Cream pies and custard tarts, while another patron chimed in about how fantastic the lemon cheesecake bars were.

He thanked them for their opinions, and reached out to take a sample from the tray on the counter that she always kept filled with bite-size pieces of the previous day’s desserts so her customers could try something new before purchasing the item. It was amazing how many extra sales she generated due to that platter of tidbits, and those samples had become one of her best forms of advertising.

Jack tossed a generous chunk of baked apple crisp into his mouth, then turned around to find her standing behind him. He came to an abrupt stop, his vivid blue eyes widening ever so slightly, making him look like a little boy who’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except, other than the impish grin curving the corner of his sensual lips, there was nothing boyish about him.

She didn’t think it possible, but the man was even sexier and more gorgeous than she remembered, and she supposed his casual attire was partly responsible for making him look so damned tempting. Unlike the suit he’d worn the other night, the collared shirt he wore accentuated his wide chest and flat belly, and well-worn jeans gave her a perfect view of his narrow hips and long, powerful-looking legs. His body was athletically honed, strong and lean and all male, and built to make a woman entertain all kinds of lascivious, sinful thoughts. The man was dangerous, potent stuff.

“Hi, there,” he said once he had the chance to swallow his mouthful of apple crisp.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying the samples,” she said, more amused than she wanted to be by his natural, easygoing charm.

“I couldn’t help myself.” His sultry grin matched the deep, velvet-edge timbre of his voice. “I told you the other night that I have little willpower when it comes to anything sweet.”

So he had, though his words today sounded like a seductive warning directed toward her. His vibrant gaze drifted to her lips, as if contemplating just how sweet she’d taste, and a tremor of awareness rippled through her.

Damn her traitorous body, anyway, she thought, and crossed her arms over her chest to cover the telltale sign of her tight nipples pressing against the front of her shirt. “Be careful, you wouldn’t want to overdose on sugar.”

“I doubt that’s possible,” he murmured in bemusement. “But, man, what a way to go.”

She almost laughed, then caught herself. He was flirting with her again, and as much as she enjoyed being on the receiving end of his teasing banter, the last she’d seen he had a girlfriend and had no business swapping innuendoes with her.

Business, Kayla. Keep your mind on business, she reminded herself sternly. Since he was the one who’d come to her shop, she waited patiently for him to explain why.

But instead of stating the reason for his presence, he tipped his head and studied her with too much insight. “You look a little surprised to see me.”

“Pleasantly surprised, if that makes you feel any better,” she said, wondering how this man managed to see beyond her attempt to be professional and composed around him. “I’ll admit I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d hear from you again.”

His gaze caught and held hers steadily. “There’s one thing you ought to know about me right up front. I’m a man of my word, and I don’t ever say anything that I don’t mean or that I don’t follow through on.”

His tone was adamant, his eyes honest, and she believed him. “That’s good to know.”

He nodded succinctly. “I know I probably should have called first to let you know I was stopping by, but I was able to get away from the restaurant tonight and took a chance on you being here.”

He cast a quick glance around the shop, and while the initial rush had died down, there were still half a dozen customers waiting to place their orders. “Is this a bad time to talk? Because if it is, I can make an appointment and come back later.”

She appreciated his consideration, and her resistance toward him softened a notch. There was no reason to postpone the appointment. Besides, she was curious to find out what he wanted, and if he was still interested in her services. No sense postponing the inevitable.

“Now is fine,” she said, and could have sworn she heard him exhale a sigh of relief. “Come on back to my office where we can talk privately.”

He followed her through the kitchen, his gaze taking in the wall-to-wall convection ovens, the abundance of cooling racks and proof boxes, and the industrial-size dough-and batter-mixing machines.

“This is quite a setup you have,” he commented, seemingly intrigued by the high-tech equipment she used to create her desserts in mass quantities. “I had no idea you had such a production line back here.”

She tossed a smile over her shoulder at him. “It sure does beat doing it the old-fashioned way of mixing and baking one dessert at a time.”

He laughed, the low, husky sound touching her in intimate places. “I’m sure it does.”

They entered her office, and she took the comfortable tweed chair behind her desk and expected him to take one of the seats in front of her. Instead, he boldly strolled around to where she was sitting, propped his fine backside against the corner of her desk, and crossed one ankle over the other.

The pose was predominantly male, and her pulse leapt at his shameless self-assurance and close proximity. She forced herself to keep her gaze on his handsome face and his sinful blue eyes, but out of her peripheral vision she could see the way his hard, muscular thighs stretched his faded Levi’s and she couldn’t miss the impressive bulge beneath the fly of his jeans. He was near enough to touch, tempting her to do just that, and it was all she could do to keep her hands to herself when she envisioned pushing him back on her desk and having her wicked way with him.

That burning, aching need she’d been fighting for days now made itself known once again, overwhelming her mind and body with a desire that pulled at her like a riptide. She swallowed a groan. Boy, she had it bad and probably should lay off the aphrodisiac candies, which seemed to have increased her sexual cravings even long after the effects of the stimulant should have worn off—which was a reaction she’d be sure to make note of later. Better yet, she needed to find a sexy, available guy to eat her creations, then release all his lust on her.

Oh, yeah, she could definitely go for having her own boy toy for a while. A guy whose sole purpose was to make her body sing with pleasure—over and over again. Especially if he had pitch-black hair, eat-me-up blue eyes, and a mouth made for sin.

Just like the man sitting in front of me.

Another rush of heat swept through her. Drawing a deep breath, she shoved those provocative thoughts right out of her mind before they got her in big trouble.

She leaned back in her chair, putting distance between them any way she could. “So, what can I do for you, Mr. Tremaine?”

“It’s Jack, please,” he insisted, “especially since we’ll be working together.”

She raised a brow at his presumptuousness. “We will?”

“I told you I was interested in having you design the desserts for Tremaine’s Downtown, and you promised me an exclusivity agreement.” He tipped his head questioningly. “Have you changed your mind?”

He looked a little anxious as he waited for her reply, and she found it hard to believe that such a confident man might be worried that she’d refuse his request. Not that she’d pass up such a golden opportunity, but it was nice to know that her agreement mattered to him, that he truly wanted her to create his desserts. It gave her a sense of feminine power that was foreign to her, but one she liked very much.

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” she said softly, and immediately saw his shoulders relax. “And I’m glad you didn’t either.”

He graced her with another one of his breathtaking grins. “Then I guess that makes us even.”

Yes, it did, and she smiled back at him. “Do you have any preference on the kind of desserts you want?”

“That’s what I’m paying you for. To be creative and to provide a variety of different desserts. I’m completely open to new experiences and ideas, so don’t hold back.”

“It’s good to know you’re so daring,” she teased. “That gives me a whole lot of creative license.”

His eyes sparkled just as humorously. “Hey, I tried the Pink Squirrel the other night, didn’t I?”

She laughed at his indignant tone. “And you liked it, too,” she reminded him.

“That goes to show you the kind of risk-taking guy I can be, so bring it on, sweetheart.” He winked at her.

Bring it on. He had no idea just how adventurous her desserts could get, and she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what would happen if she mixed a bit of pleasure with their business. The result would be spontaneous combustion, no doubt.

“When do you think you’ll have the first dessert ready for me to try?” he asked.

“Let’s see,” she said thoughtfully, as she opened the day planner on her desk and skimmed through the pages. “It’s Wednesday and I need a few days to experiment with some new recipes, and to see what I can come up with. I could have something ready for you to sample, say, by Sunday?”

“That works for me. What time?”

“Since I’d prefer that we weren’t interrupted by business, how about six-thirty in the evening, a half hour after the shop closes?”

“Perfect. I’ll be here.”

She penciled in the appointment on her calendar, and as she did so, her arm brushed his jean-clad hip. She valiantly tried to ignore the heat of him, along with the tightening of her breasts that the chaste touch evoked. She could only imagine the sparks they’d ignite if they ever rubbed skin to skin.

He moved off her desk, straightened, and reached into his back pocket to withdraw his wallet. He pulled a check from his billfold and set it in front of her. She glanced from the staggering amount on the check, all the way back up to his deep, drown-in-them-forever blue eyes.

“What’s this for?”

“A down payment for your services,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I’d rather wait until services have been rendered and I have a better idea of what you owe.” She pushed the check back towards him. “You don’t even know if you’ll like the desserts I create.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep working at it until I’m completely satisfied.” He didn’t seem at all bothered by that possibility. “Besides, I have no doubt you’re worth every penny and you’ll give me my money’s worth. I also know that exclusivity doesn’t come cheap.”

No, it didn’t, but talk about blind trust in her abilities. She shook her head, certain any further argument would be futile. “Okay, fine.” If his bill was less than what he’d just given her, she’d issue him a refund. But, boy, would all that money look good in her business account.

“So we have ourselves a deal?”

Since he was towering over her, she stood, too. There was one issue she needed to address before she had her lawyer draw up a final contract and deliver it to Jack. “There’s something I need to ask you.”

He slid his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “Sure. Go ahead.”

She didn’t know an easy or tactful way to express her concern, so she just let it out. “I got the distinct impression at the Commerce dinner that your girlfriend wouldn’t be too thrilled to find out we’re working together. Is she going to be a problem for me?” The last thing Kayla wanted or needed was a jealous woman bad-mouthing Pure Indulgence and ruining her hard-earned reputation.

“I broke things off with Gretta the night of the dinner,” he told her, and there was no regret in his voice. “So there’s no girlfriend or significant other for you to worry about. I’m single and unattached.”

That revelation pleased her, more than was prudent, and she couldn’t stop the secretive smile that curved her lips. She’d just found the perfect test subject for her aphrodisiac desserts.

3

JACK WALKED INTO the kitchen area of his restaurant, a last check to make sure that everything was in order before he headed over to Pure Indulgence for his appointment with Kayla. It was fairly busy for a Sunday night, but thanks to his manager and well-trained staff there were no huge problems for Jack to worry about.

A steady stream of appetizers and dinner orders lit up the computer screen of the fully integrated system he’d purchased a few months ago, which kept the kitchen organized and his employees efficient. Behind the warming station his head chef made sure that the cooks processed and prepared the entrées at a steady pace, and still produced the high quality and visually appealing dishes that Tremaine’s Downtown was known for.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.