The Chocolate Seduction

A strip of the phyllo dough had been laid out on the work surface. He brushed melted butter across it, then looked over at Sabrina. “Want to help?” Practically the first words he’d spoken to her, other than “Taste this,” or “Good morning.”

She caught her tongue between her teeth, then nodded. “Sure.”

“Come over here beside me.”

She pushed off the stool and went to stand next to him. He smelled like bittersweet chocolate, darkly sweet and delicious. Gobble, gobble, slurp, she thought, humming with vibrations at his nearness.

“You can be the folder.” Kit put a heaping spoonful of his chocolate mixture onto a corner of the pastry strip. He showed her how to fold the corner into a triangle, then again onto itself, continuing along the entire strip until the filling was wrapped in the airy layers of phyllo dough.

“Not bad,” Sabrina said as she transferred the pastry puff onto a baking sheet.

“You’re a natural, kid.”

She looked into his amused eyes. They gave her a charge, even though she could see that he was humoring her. The other chefs tended be high-strung and easily annoyed, so she’d learned to stay out of their way. But the pastry chef’s work station was set off to one side, and Kit didn’t seem to mind when she hung around.

Still…

Kid, huh?

It had been a long time since an attractive man looked at her as a kid sister. She didn’t like it. True, she had no intentions of hooking up with Kit. Nevertheless it didn’t seem right for him to dismiss the possibility so easily.

“Fold,” he said, and she realized he’d laid out another strip of the delicate dough and spooned out a dollop of chocolate. They worked together in silence for a few minutes until the first pan was filled with neat rows of the triangles. Now and then, their elbows bumped or their hands brushed and Sabrina got more and more peeved that Kit had no reaction at all when she was struggling not to make cheesy analogies about oozing filling and hot home cookin’.

One of the servers, Charmaine Piasceki, stepped through the stainless-steel swinging doors that led out to the dining room. “Sabrina, your sister’s here.” She looked at Sabrina’s buttery fingers, then over at Kit. “Should I tell her you’re greased up with one of the chefs?”

Out of Kit’s range, Sabrina made a menacing face at Charmaine, who’d become a friend as soon as they realized they both had smart mouths, food tattoos and opposite tastes in men. Despite kooky pink hair and a Persephone’s pomegranate on the small of her back, Charmaine went for uptight lawyers and investment bankers. She liked to turn them on to their wild side.

Sabrina wiped her fingers on the towel keeping the phyllo dough pliable. “I’ll be there as soon as we’re finished with the filling.”

Charmaine pushed backward through the doors with her rump. She looked at Kit and laughed, flashing the silver stud in her tongue. “Sure thing. We wouldn’t want you two to skimp on the filling.”

Sabrina’s gaze skidded across Kit’s face. He was grinning at her again. She gulped, too aware of the heat flushing her cheeks. “Umm. Well, that was fun, but I have to get back out there.”

“I’ll bring you and your sister a sample, fresh from the oven. Well-filled.”

“Great.” She meant it. Maybe if Mackenzie saw Kit in the flesh—the living, breathing, warm, rippling flesh—she’d let Sabrina out of the “no men” part of their deal. Mackenzie was reasonable. She’d understand that there was only so much she could expect her sister to resist.

The quiet, clean public area of the restaurant was a relief after the hot zone of the kitchen. Sabrina stopped at the bar and got a couple of bottled waters from a small fridge. She uncapped one of them and took a long swig of the icy liquid to soothe her parched throat as she surveyed the activity in the front room. Servers moved from table to table in their stark white-and-black uniforms, doing the final prep work before they opened for the lunch trade.

Mackenzie had been seated at a table by one of the windows that overlooked West Broadway. The prime Tribeca location went hand in hand with the restaurant’s gourmet menu, hip reputation and a parade of well-heeled patrons who liked to rub shoulders with the funkier creative types. Word was that although a real working artist might actually starve on the minuscule portions served at Decadence, they could never afford them.

“Hey, sis.” Sabrina set the blue bottles on the table and slid into one of the Danish modern chairs. “What happened? Your hair’s still long.” She’d made an appointment for Mackenzie at a Madison Avenue salon recommended by one of the restaurant’s owners, the famously stylish Dominique Para.

Mackenzie looked up, guilt written across her face. “I’m sorry. I backed out at the last minute.”

“No! Do you know I had to give Dominique my favorite flea-market boots as a bribe for your appointment? I won’t mention how hard it is to find authentic Victorian lace-ups in my size.” Sabrina’s feet were long and thin, like the rest of her. Dominique, a former model, was a perfect match, size-wise.

“I just couldn’t go through with it,” Mackenzie said, blinking puppy-dog eyes.

“Do I have to go with you to hold your hand?”

“Yes, please.”

Sabrina wagged her head. “What’s the hang-up with your hair? You’ve managed everything else. You quit your job, the new candy store is opening on schedule, Mr. Dull has been given his walking papers…” She caught Mackenzie’s blank look. “He is gone, isn’t he?”

“More or less. It’s not my fault that he keeps sending flowers.”

Sabrina flipped a hand. “Jason has no imagination. He wants you back because you’re easy.”

“Ah, no, I think that would be you.” One side of Mackenzie’s mouth curled into a dimple as she twisted off the cap of her water.

“Touché. But you know I meant easy as in comfortable.” Sabrina moved restlessly in her chair, flinging one arm over the molded bird’s-eye maple backrest and tossing her hair over the other shoulder. “I’m not easy any longer, you know. And, man, is it killing me.”

Mackenzie was busy looking around the restaurant. Decadence was as polished and chic as Dominique Para herself, filled with a striking combination of mid-century design and trendy art-house accessories. Partial walls made of woven maple planks separated certain areas for privacy. Sculptural sheet-glass mobiles doubled as lighting. Swivel chairs in purple and acid-green, paired with steel ashtray pedestals from the ’50s, made the wait in the lounge for a table more of a pleasure than a bother. At first, Sabrina hadn’t been sure that she fit in at Decadence with a wardrobe that was primarily made up of jeans, sweats, tanks and bandannas, but Dominique had passed along a selection of designer dresses that were so perfectly simple and well-fitted they had to be couture.

Mackenzie returned her attention to her sister. “I thought the restaurant would be keeping you so busy you wouldn’t have time to think about men.”

“That would be the goal,” Sabrina said, “except I haven’t told you about Kit Rex yet.”

“Kit Rex? Isn’t he a rock star?”

“Not Kid Rock,” Sabrina started to explain, before she saw that Mackenzie was teasing.

“Super. There would have to be a man in the picture.” Mackenzie affected a put-upon sigh. “Okay. How bad do you have it?”

Sabrina fanned her face. “Very, very bad.”

Mackenzie didn’t speak for a long minute. Sabrina could see the cogs grinding beneath the mass of pinned-up hair. Her sister had a solution for every problem, if she was given enough time to think it over.

Mackenzie’s eyes slitted. Sabrina shifted under the scrutiny, examining her manicure, then flicking a dot of chocolate filling off the front of her hand-me-down dress. It was lilac, sleeveless, A-line—very Jackie O.

Finally Mackenzie lifted a finger. “Chocolate,” she announced.

“Chocolate? Chocolate is what’s getting me into this predicament.”

“I don’t understand.”

Sabrina leaned over the table, lowering her voice. “Kit is our head pastry chef. He specializes in chocolate desserts. Several times a day, I’m drawn into the kitchen by the force of his sheer animal magnetism to watch him work. He’s…well…he’s charming on the surface, but kind of quiet and deep underneath. He’s got major sex appeal without trying at all. I’m having fantasies about tying him up in apron strings and drizzling chocolate over his naked chest.” Sabrina stopped and sucked in a breath to steady herself. “So trust me, chocolate is not the answer.”

Mackenzie snapped her mouth shut. “Wow.” She glanced around the restaurant, probably looking for Kit. “I haven’t seen you this worked up in a long time.”

Sabrina had the answer to that. Normally she wasn’t overly introspective, but she’d had nothing to do for the past seven sleepless nights except think. “That’s because I usually satisfy my cravings as they come. I’ve never had to do this denial thing before. Turns out my willpower is flabby from lack of use.” She put her chin in her hand, ruing the day they’d made the bet. If the ring wasn’t at stake, and if she didn’t have this odd emotional attachment to it despite her negativity toward marriage…

“But you haven’t given in,” Mackenzie said with some doubt.

“Not yet. Hell, I’m not even sure that Kit is interested.”

Mackenzie laughed. “Right. Like I believe that.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Has there ever been a guy who didn’t want you? You’re the average American male’s dream girl. Tall, pretty, long legs, blond hair…”

“But no va-va-voom.” Sabrina motioned to her small breasts. “Maybe Kit is a boob man.”

Mackenzie giggled. “They’re all boob men. Fortunately, a woman needs only a pair of boobs to satisfy that requirement. Any size will do.”

“Doesn’t matter. Kit doesn’t seem like a T&A hound. Or if he is, he’s subtle about it.”

“Gay?”

“No way.” Half the chefs were, but not Kit.

“Maybe he senses your determination to remain celibate and he respects the decision.”

“Yeah, but the thing is…I’m not that determined.”

“You promised, Breen.”

“Don’t pull that Breen stuff. You got me at Mom and Dad’s wedding while I was momentarily overcome by sentiment. It’s not going to work again.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mackenzie said in her placid, content way. “The deal’s still in force.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts.”

“You haven’t met Kit. He’s a very big but.” Sabrina held up a hand. “Don’t laugh. As long as your hair hasn’t been cut—”

“Next week—no, tomorrow. I’ll get it cut tomorrow.”

“—I’m within my rights to renege. If Kit so much as wiggles a finger at me, I’m going to be naked and climbing all over him while the dishwashers applaud.”

“Good.” Mackenzie grinned. “I’ve always dreamed of getting grandmother’s ring.”

“Not so fast. I may be weak, but I’m still holding out.” Sabrina crossed her fingers beneath her chin in hopes that she could continue.

“Only another ten months or so to go,” Mackenzie said airily. “Remember, you have to last until Mom and Dad’s first anniversary.”

“You mean their second first anniversary.” Sabrina snorted. “Of course, you’re going to lose long before that if you don’t get your hair cut and send Mr. Dull to Decadence to meet Charmaine.”

Mackenzie hooted. “Wait a minute! What’s that about Charmaine?”

“Jason’s just her type. After she loosens his tie and gets him into a pair of leather pants, he’ll never bother you again. Unless you’d rather keep him than win the bet?”

“Sure, let Charmaine at him.” Mackenzie gave a careless wave. “You overplayed your hand. He was never my dream man.”

Sabrina’s thoughts immediately veered to Kit. She squirmed. “Oh, God, what have I done? I’ll never hold out for another month, let alone ten of them. I’m not sure I can do another day.”

Mackenzie cocked her head. Her lips had compressed into a smug little smile. “You can if we dose you up with chocolate.”

Sabrina was baffled. “All the better. I’ll apply the chocolate and he can lick it off me.”

“You miss my point. The chocolate will be a substitute for sex.”

Sabrina gaped, but before she could question the preposterous statement, she caught a glimpse of Kit, crossing the dining room. He carried two plates.

“Welcome to my torture,” she whispered to Mackenzie right before he arrived.

“Mademoiselles.” Kit bobbed his head so a curl of jet-black hair fell across his forehead. He set the dessert plates before them, his blue eyes twinkling.

Sabrina had to look away. She stared at the plate. The phyllo triangle had been baked golden brown, set in a pool of raspberry puree and drizzled with a spiderweb of dark chocolate syrup. A dollop of rich vanilla ice cream and a ripe red raspberry nestled beside it.

Too much temptation for one weak woman to withstand. She said in a low voice, “Mackenzie, this is Kristoffer Rex.”

Mackenzie was gazing up at him without blinking. “I figured.”

“Call me Kit,” he said.

“Kit, I’d like you to meet Mackenzie Bliss, my sister.”

Mackenzie’s smile was a little too wide and far too dazzled. “Nice to meet you.” She offered her hand.

Kit took it. “My pleasure.”

“Oh, no, the pleasure’s all mine.” Mackenzie raised her eyebrows at Sabrina, then glanced at her plate. “This looks scrumptious.”

“Phyllo with coconut, almond and chocolate filling. Please taste it before the ice cream melts.”

Mackenzie opened the chartreuse napkin folded around her utensils. “Won’t you join us?”

Sabrina’s stomach flip-flopped. “He can’t, he’s preparing—”

“Love to,” Kit said. “For a minute.” He glanced at Sabrina for approval before pulling a chair out.

She nodded, edging her chair over an inch. The kidney-shaped table shrank to half its previous size. “We should both get back to work.”

“You have time to test my dish. That’s work, isn’t it?” Kit’s eyes crinkled…at Mackenzie.

Sabrina stabbed the pastry and the warm chocolate filling oozed out. Mackenzie took a bite and rolled her eyes skyward. “Mmm, delicious.”

Kit smiled a thank-you and then looked at Sabrina. “What do you think, boss?”

She lifted a bit of the flaky pastry to her lips, wondering what had happened to kid. Kit knew she wasn’t his boss, of course. She was in charge of the serving staff and the lunch receipts and reported to the restaurant’s head manager each evening. The owners, Dominique and her partner, Curt Tyrone, dropped in occasionally, greeting guests and standing around gossiping while showing off their fabulous selves to best advantage.

“Very good,” Sabrina said. “Although I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

Kit lounged in his chair, fingers laced over his abdomen. “Oh?”

“It’s true,” Mackenzie put in earnestly. “Sabrina’s taste buds are geared toward spicy foods. But I was just telling her that she should start eating more chocolate.”

Sabrina would have kicked her sister under the table, but Kit’s stretched-out legs were in the way. He wore faded jeans and battered running shoes under his double-breasted chef’s coat.

“We should all make it a habit to eat a bit of chocolate every day,” Kit said. “It does a body good.”

“Exactly,” Mackenzie said. “But Sabrina only likes what’s bad for her.”

“Ha.” Sabrina licked ice cream off her spoon. “My sister’s in the candy business,” she told Kit.

“How interesting.” He focused on Mackenzie. “What do you do?”

“I worked at Regal Foods in the sweets division until recently. Now I’m opening my own penny-candy emporium in the Village. It’s to be called Sweet Something.” Mackenzie shot her sister a mischievous glance. “Sabrina will have to bring you to the grand opening.”

Kit’s gaze slid sideways; Sabrina felt it slip over her like warm honey. “I’d be delighted.”

She stabbed the phyllo. “That’s marvy. So would I.”

“Then it’s a date,” Mackenzie said.

Sabrina glared. She was going to take the scissors to her sister’s hair herself and she would be no gentler than when she’d shorn all their Barbie dolls and made Mackenzie cry.

Mackenzie went on as if Sabrina wasn’t giving her the squinty-eyed death ray. “What about you, Kit? How did you come to work at Decadence?”

He shrugged. “Curt and Dominique found me working at a resort in Tahiti. They liked my desserts and offered me a job. I’ve never lived in New York City, so I gave it a try.”

“Do you move around a lot?”

“I have.”

“So does Sabrina. You two must have a lot in common.”

Again, Sabrina felt Kit’s eyes on her, but this time they weren’t nearly as warm. “Is that so?”

“I like change.” She put down her spoon, realizing she’d polished her plate without being aware of it. The sweetness of the dessert lingered on her tongue, and she rather liked it. The rich chocolate was giving her a glow inside.

An awkward silence had fallen, so Mackenzie moved the conversation forward in her usual faciliatory way. “Where are you from, Kit?”

“A small town in Ohio. But I’ve lived all over.”

“You have the slightest accent. It doesn’t sound like Ohio to me.”

“I’m homogenized. A little Midwest twang, a little New England, a little French and Italian, all mixed up with a teaspoon of the lazy island lilt.”

Mackenzie was getting more out of him in five minutes than Sabrina had in a week. But then, very little of their time together had been spent talking. Just staring, at least for her part. “Mackenzie and I grew up in suburban New York.”

“Scarsdale.” Mackenzie nodded. “Our parents are still there.”

“What do you mean still?” Sabrina said, even though Kit was watching and listening.

“Again, then.” Mackenzie explained for Kit’s benefit. “Mom and Dad divorced when I was twelve and Sabrina was thirteen. They remarried six weeks ago.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “It’s a suburban American fairy tale.”

“Sounds like it to me.” Kit stood and took their plates. “I have to go back to work.”

“Too late,” Sabrina said, giving him a saucy chin tilt and a flick of her hair. “You’ve already been reported to management.”

Kit bent closer. “Then management will have to punish me.”

She was riveted by his eyes. “Fifty lashes with a limp cannoli.”

“Kinky,” he said, and walked away.

“Nice meeting you,” Mackenzie called. She waited until he’d disappeared behind the steel porthole doors. “Hot damn.”

Sabrina slumped. “You see what I’m up against?”

“And you think that man doesn’t want you?”

“He hasn’t made a single overture.”

Mackenzie stared after Kit. “He looks like the type to go in for a slow, teasing seduction,” she said softly. “You’re so lucky.”

“Lucky? Does that mean you’re letting me out of our deal?”

Mackenzie gave a start. Her thoughts seemed far away. “Oh.” She looked across the table at her sister. “Umm, no.”

“How can I possibly resist him?” Sabrina said with a soulful moan.

“I already told you. Chocolate.”

“That makes no sense. I ate an entire chocolate dessert two minutes ago and I can promise you that Kit looks just as attractive to me.”

“You need to let the chocolate chemicals accumulate in your brain and bloodstream.”

“Huh?”

“Look at it this way. How did the chocolate make you feel?” Mackenzie dabbed her lips with the napkin. “It was a fabulous dish, by the way. Kit obviously knows his stuff.”

“That’s for sure.” Sabrina sat up with her hands in her lap, thinking of how she’d inhaled the pastry even though she’d never been a chocolate fiend. “I guess I feel sort of satisfied. Warm and happy. It’s not quite an all-out sugar rush, but the chocolate gave me an emotional boost.” Or maybe that was Kit, she thought. For a man who moved with a languid deliberation, being around him certainly zapped her with energy.

“Did you know there was a survey that said fifty percent of American women prefer chocolate to sex?”

“No way!” Sabrina gawked. “They’re obviously not having the right kind of sex.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re kidding me, Mackenzie. You made that up.”

“It’s true. I had to read lots of candy research for my old job.”

Sabrina was catching Mackenzie’s drift. “You are not suggesting that I feast on chocolate in place of sex.”

“Uh-huh. Pretty much.”

“Forget it.” Sabrina waved her arms like an umpire. “I’m outta here.” But she didn’t leave.

“What’s the alternative, Sabrina? Not only will you lose the bet and the ring, but you’ll go back to falling into one brief relationship after another. It’s your pattern.” Mackenzie put on her I’m-saying-this-for-your-own-good expression. There were times it was hard to believe she was the younger sister. “You see a guy, you fall in lust, you think he’s The One and a month later you’re on the phone to me complaining that he’s around all the time and you can’t breathe. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina put her elbows on the table. “So?”

“The same thing will happen with Kit if you can’t control your craving.”

“I thought you said he’d go for the slow seduction.”

“That doesn’t mean he can resist if you go nuts one night and corner him in the kitchen to act out some crazy apron-stripping fantasy. He is a man, after all. It’s up to you to say no.”

Sabrina peered between her arms, head in hands. “I was never any good at that.”

“That’s why you turn to chocolate. Remember, I’ve seen the research. The chemicals that chocolate produces in your body are similar to the pleasurable effect you get from making love. Endorphins are released. Seratonin and caffeine and phenyethylamine—something like that. They’re natural opiates.” Mackenzie smiled. “To be fair, some scientists say you’d have to eat chocolate by the pound to truly be affected, but…whatever. I’m sure it would help a little.”

Sabrina dropped her hands. She was skeptical. “So every time I get an urge to suck on Kit’s tongue I should pop a Hershey’s Kiss instead?”

“Right. What could it hurt?”

“My dental bill. And pretty soon I wouldn’t be able to fit into Dominique’s dresses.”

“Pooh. You could stand to put on a few pounds.”

Sabrina ate, but her metabolism was high and she burned the calories off, unlike Mackenzie, who was prone to curling up on the couch with a good book and a bag of butterscotch candies.

“Are you game?” Mackenzie prompted.

Sabrina shrugged. She had nothing to lose. “I suppose. But you’re going in for that haircut as soon as I can wangle another appointment with Costas.”

Mackenzie didn’t hesitate. “I will, I promise.”

“Do I really have to hold out for the entire year?” Assuming Kit was interested…

“That would be ideal. Of course, I could be generous and give you some leeway if he proposes before that—” Mackenzie stopped and laughed at her sister’s horrified expression. “But I know that’s asking too much. If the threat of losing grandmother’s ring isn’t enough of a deterrence, could you at least pledge not to jump in bed with Kit until there’s a real, honest, emotional connection between you two? Get to know him as a friend first. You might be surprised how different making love with a friend will feel.”

“Well, you always went on and on about what a good friend Jason was, but I don’t remember you ever saying he gave you hot sweaty jungle love.”

“Our love life was satisfactory.”

Sabrina grimaced, staring at Mackenzie until she blushed. Anyone having merely satisfactory sex might as well gorge on chocolate instead, and they both knew it.

“Don’t worry,” Mackenzie said, deflecting the attention. “You and Kit have a different dynamic entirely.”

“Whatever it is will probably burn out before we get to the bedroom when I put this chocolate plan of yours into action,” Sabrina complained.

Mackenzie stood and slipped her handbag off the back of the chair. “Then it was never meant to be.”

“Meant to be?” Sabrina didn’t believe in soul mates and destiny. She believed in having fun while you could because who knew what tomorrow would bring. “Now you’re sounding like Mom and Dad, with all their explanations for why their divorce didn’t stick. But what do you want to bet they’re arguing when they get off the cruise ship?” For their second honeymoon, Charlie and Nicole had booked passage on a lengthy transatlantic cruise. They were due back in another week.