Janelle Denison - Pure Indulgence

Satisfied that all was running smoothly, he headed toward his manager, Rich, who was helping to garnish plates and double-checking the dishes before the waiters and waitresses served them to their customers.

Rich wasn't only his right-hand man since Tremaine's Downtown opened six years ago. They'd grown up together in the same impoverished neighborhood and Rich had been his best friend since the age of ten. The two of them had both lost their fathers early on and were raised by single mothers who'd scraped to make ends meet. They'd also been two rebels with plenty of cause, but instead had channeled their energy and young ambition and made something of their lives. He shuddered to think how easily they could have gone the other way.

The two of them had been through a lot together, and managed to remain as close as brothers, supporting one another in everything they did. Jack couldn't imagine his life without Rich in it.

"I'm taking off for the night," Jack said as he came up to his best friend. "Do you need me for anything else before I leave?"

"Nope. I have everything covered just fine." Rich slanted him an inquisitive look as he handed a waitress a dish she was reaching for, taking in Jack's casual shirt and khaki pants, instead of the suit and tie he normally wore when he was working at the restaurant. "Where are you off to? Hot date tonight?"

"No." Not yet, anyway, Jack thought. Kayla definitely made him feel hot and bothered, but despite their mutual attraction, she'd erected a barrier between them that he was determined to gradually break down. As for a date, he hoped that would come in time, as well.

"You know the woman I mentioned who is updating our dessert menu?" Jack asked, reminding Rich of his plans. "I'm meeting with her tonight at her shop."

"And you get to sample her desserts?" he asked slyly. "Sounds like a fun way to spend the evening."

Jack grinned. "I'm not complaining."

Rich's sandy-blond eyebrows rose in surprise. "Do I detect some interest there?"

"Yeah, you do," Jack admitted.

His good friend let out a long, low whistle. "It's been a long time since you've been interested in a woman, instead of the other way around."

Jack understood exactly what Rich was getting at, along with the significance of his interest in a woman. He'd almost given up hope in finding a woman who didn't have a hidden agenda where he was concerned, until Kayla, who wasn't at all impressed by who he was, or by his success.

He felt on equal footing with her-personally and professionally-and it was a novel sensation he liked a whole lot.

"She's not like all the other women I've dated." Kayla was intelligent, quick-witted and amusing, with an underlying sensuality that intrigued him from the first moment he'd met her, and continually drew him in deeper with each meeting. But there was no telling how things would progress between them, or if she'd act on the attraction that burned hot and bright whenever they were near one another.

Jack most definitely intended to find out.

"Right now I'm seeing her for business purposes," he told Rich, trying to be pragmatic about the situation. "But we'll see what happens."

The orders into the kitchen picked up, and Jack left the restaurant before he was late for his meeting with Kayla. He made it to her shop with five minutes to spare and knocked on the front glass door, which was locked against any last-minute Sunday-evening shoppers.

She came out of the back room and made her way around the counter to the door. Today she was wearing a pale blue T-shirt that looked a size too big, but didn't do much to hide her generous breasts, if that was her intent. The long hem ended at her thighs, covering a good portion of her body, and from there stonewashed denim took over. Despite the less-than-figure-flattering outfit, her hips swayed sensually as she walked-a direct contrast to her sensible and discreet choice of clothing.

She opened the door, her friendly but shy smile telling Jack she was glad to see him.

"Hi," she said huskily, her warm green gaze filled with a slow, simmering awareness he felt thrum through his blood, as well.

"Hi, yourself," he murmured in reply, and wondered how in the hell he was going to keep his hands off her tonight. He wanted to kiss her in the worst way, wanted to release that clip holding her blond hair on top of her head and sift his fingers through the silky-looking strands. He ached to feel exactly how she fit against him-from her soft breasts, her belly, to her thighs-and everywhere else in between.

Before he followed through on those fantasies dancing in his head, he stepped past her, into the fragrant bakery, and she locked the door behind him.

"Come on back to the kitchen," she said, immediately all business. Then she said over her shoulder as she led the way, "I just perfected your new recipe this morning, and I hope you're happy with the end results."

She was nervous about that, he could tell, and he attempted to set her at ease. "I'm sure you did a great job on the dessert."

"There's always a certain flavor or taste that someone doesn't like, such as coconut, or a citrusy tang, or nuts. For me it's the taste of gingerbread," she said, and wrinkled her nose. "Of course I still make gingerbread for my customers and it sells very well. Anyway, I know you and I are in agreement over chocolate, but it's the other ingredients I might toss into the recipe that you, personally, might not care for."

He was a realist, and didn't expect to love everything she made. "Which means regardless of whether or not I like a certain dessert you make, there's no way to appeal to every single one of my customers."

She nodded in agreement. "Very true."

"That's why we're going for variety, and I'm coming into this taste test with a very open mind."

Her smile chased away most of the concern etching her features. "Good. That said, this is my first offering. A Chocolate Mint Truffle Cake." She gestured to the elegant-looking cake on the stainless-steel prep table, edged in a pretty scalloped design and garnished with pale-green mint shavings. "It's rich in texture, but not overly sweet. And the hint of spearmint will appeal to those who like a fresh, cool taste after eating dinner."

He breathed deeply of the fragrant, chocolate-mint scent. "It looks and smells fantastic."

"Well, the real test is in the taste." She moved away to retrieve a knife, plate and fork.

"So, who samples all your new recipes before you offer them to the buying public?" he asked curiously.

"Mostly, whoever is working during the day will taste whatever I'm making and offer their opinion. And then, of course, there is my sister, who is always happy to sample a new dessert." She laughed softly. "But for the most part I have to rely on my own judgment, since it's my name behind the dessert." She set the utensils on the prep table and used the knife to cut a slice of the cake. "Being surrounded by so many sweets and having to sample most of the recipes is what I've come to consider a hazard of the job."

Uncertain exactly what she was getting at, or what she found so dangerous about her occupation, he asked, "How's that?"

She cast him a quick, incredulous glance, as if she couldn't quite believe he'd missed the gist of her comment. "Sampling all these sweets plays hell on a woman's figure. Or at least mine, as you can see."

Her tone might have held a joking lilt, but the defensive light in the depth of her eyes told another story altogether. She obviously had issues with her shape, though for the life of him he couldn't imagine why. Then he remembered Gretta's well-aimed barbs that had undoubtedly made Kayla think he preferred reed-thin women.

He couldn't change what had happened at the Commerce dinner, but he could let her know right up front his opinion of her figure. "What I see," he said meaningfully as he let his gaze drift leisurely down the length of her body, visually touching her in intimate places, "is a woman with real curves in all the right places."