Читать книгу Pure Indulgence - Janelle Denison - Страница 9
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Оглавление“SO, HOW DID your catered event go tonight?”
“Not bad.” Tucking the cordless phone between her neck and ear, Kayla settled against the pillows propped against the headboard of her bed, glad to hear her sister’s encouraging voice after her busy, exhausting evening. “Better than expected, actually.” If you don’t count what an absolute fool I made of myself over the gorgeous, sexy Jack Tremaine.
She cringed at the embarrassing memory, still unable to believe that she’d read all the signals between them so inaccurately. She’d thought, hoped, that the attraction was mutual, that the interest she’d glimpsed in the depths of his devastatingly blue eyes had been real.
Obviously, she’d only imagined what she wanted to be real—for her to be the focus of a good-looking man’s attentions, and for him to look deeper than at surface appearances.
The truth of the matter was, she wasn’t head-turningly gorgeous or sophisticated, and she never would be. That wasn’t who she was, as she’d learned the hard way in her previous relationship.
Doug had been a good-looking man she’d met after struggling to shed those stubborn twenty pounds that always seemed to hang on to her hips and thighs. They’d dated for a year, and she’d thought he might be “the one”, until she’d gradually started gaining the weight back. Then, she’d seen a very judgmental side to the man she’d thought she’d known so well. That side had reinforced every negative comment her mother had ever made about her less-than-perfect body. Doug had issued her an ultimatum that had struck right where she was the most vulnerable—get skinny again, or get dumped.
Knowing she was destined to be curvaceous, and refusing to change for any man ever again, she’d ended the relationship. It had taken her months to come to terms with the fact that she’d never be svelte and slender like her sister, to believe in herself and accept her full curves and ordinary, but pretty features. She only had relapses when someone or something dredged up the insecurities she’d lived with most of her life.
And Jack Tremaine’s date had managed to do that exceptionally well.
“Did you dazzle the Chamber of Commerce members with your awesome desserts?” Jillian asked, pulling her back from her unpleasant memories.
“I had no complaints.” And that was enough for Kayla to consider the evening a victory. “A few chamber members took my business card for future events, so, all in all, it was great exposure.” Though it remained to be seen if any of them actually followed up on their promises to contact her—especially Jack Tremaine.
“Here comes the million-dollar question. Did you meet any good-looking businessmen this evening?” Jillian’s tone was low and teasing.
Kayla’s cheeks flushed at the one man in particular who loomed larger than life in her mind, and she closed her eyes to bring him into better focus. Too easily, she conjured up seductive blue eyes that set her pulse fluttering, pitch-black hair cut into a short, executive style that accentuated his chiseled features, and big hands with long, tapered fingers designed to bring a woman’s body immense pleasure. Then there was that sexy, lean frame of his that filled out his charcoal suit as if it had been custom made for him—and no doubt probably had.
She bit her bottom lip and pressed a hand to the butterflies taking flight in her stomach, debating whether or not to share her secret with Jillian. She was dying to confide in someone about Jack Tremaine, and Jillian was not only her sister, but one of her best friends.
“Okay, so I did meet a guy,” Kayla said on a rush of breath. “And I have to confess that he looked more scrumptious than that triple fudge Bavarian torte you were eating earlier today.”
“Whoa!” Jillian’s breezy laughter drifted over the phone line. “I didn’t think anything topped that dessert!”
Kayla giggled, too, and added naughtily, “I wanted to top him with the dessert and eat him up, bite by delicious bite.”
“You are so bad,” Jillian scolded lightly, though she was enjoying their playful banter just as much. “Is he single and available?”
Her little fantasy of having Jack Tremaine covered in her richest, most mouthwatering torte came to a screeching halt. “Unfortunately, no. After he spent a good fifteen minutes flirting with me, this svelte young woman on stiletto heels came along, hooked her arm possessively through his and glared at me. I think if I’d dared to touch him, she’d have clawed my eyes out.”
Kayla still found it hard to believe she’d misjudged Jack Tremaine so badly, that she’d let his charming words suck her in. The other woman hadn’t seemed at all his type intellectually, neither had her cool personality. But then again, his lady friend had the kind of Barbie-doll shape that turned a man’s head. And sometimes men found outward beauty more attractive than brains.
“What can I say,” she said, striving for a flippant tone that she didn’t completely feel. “Some girls have all the luck, and the figure to go with it.”
“Kayla…” Jillian said softly.
“I’m okay. Really,” she assured her sister, and directed their conversation back to business. “The guy I met is Jack Tremaine, who owns Tremaine’s Downtown. He said he was interested in revamping his dessert menu and took my business card, but it remains to be seen if he’ll actually call.”
“Wow, Kayla, that would be quite a name to add to your résumé.”
“Tell me about it,” she said wryly, and gave her sister the details of her conversation with Jack. Then she brought their call to an end with a promise to meet her for lunch later in the week.
Once Kayla hung up the phone, she tried to fall asleep. It was late and she was exhausted, yet peaceful slumber eluded her. She tossed and turned restlessly as Jack Tremaine starred in her most erotic fantasies, and her silk and lace chemise slid arousingly across her breasts, her stomach, and thighs.
With a low groan of frustration, she got up, grabbed her matching robe, and slipped into the silky garment. Some women went gaga over purses or shoes, but pretty lingerie was Kayla’s one weakness over chocolate. And because she wore plain, loose clothing in public that didn’t draw any attention to her body, in private she indulged that sensual, feminine side of herself freely and without guilt.
She padded barefoot into the kitchen and was greeted by her orange tabby-cat, Pumpkin, who’d appeared on her doorstep last Halloween as a stray and had made Kayla’s home her own since then.
Bending down, she scratched Pumpkin behind her ears, which triggered an automatic rumbling sound deep in the cat’s throat. “Hi, purry-bug,” Kayla murmured affectionately. “Are you looking for a late-night snack, too?”
“Mrroww,” the cat replied.
“I thought so.” Smiling, Kayla gave the tabby a few cat treats, then poured herself a glass of milk. She set a few of the espresso butter cream candies she’d brought home with her on a plate. She hadn’t had a chance to sample them earlier because of her busy schedule getting the desserts ready for the Chamber of Commerce dinner.
Sitting at the small dining table, she took a bite of her newest aphrodisiac creation, and the combined ingredients of espresso, caramel and rich, smooth white chocolate literally melted in her mouth. Amazingly, there was no odd aftertaste of the aphrodisiac powder that she’d purchased on a whim from a new-age Web site that catered to the mystical and magical. The all-natural stimulant was said to increase and enhance a person’s sexual response when consumed, and so far, Kayla found that claim to be true.
After eating three of the Heavenly Kisses candies she knew she had to stop or her body would be feverish with need and her night would be even more agonizing. Already, that familiar tingling sensation was spreading through her veins, making her feel warm all over. Her breasts grew heavy and sensitive, her nipples hardened, and a slow, steady ache spiraled low.
She took a big gulp of cold milk, but knew from previous samplings that it was too late to douse her growing desire, the stripping away of her inhibitions, or the slow building need for an orgasm. But beyond her body’s aroused state, she was excited by the possibility that she’d hit upon a unique addition to add to her growing selection of confections. She imagined a whole new line of desserts, all designed to arouse a lover’s passion, and she couldn’t wait to offer such a fun, sexy item on her bakery menu.
Oh, yeah, she thought with a naughty grin, and licked the lingering flavor of caramel and white chocolate from the corner of her mouth. But before she could make that claim, there was other data she needed to analyze, such as how long it took after eating the candies to become stimulated and what different levels of arousal they could create.
At this point, she only had her own physical responses to go by, and it wasn’t enough to come to any kind of solid conclusion. She had to test her candies on an unsuspecting person, someone without any kind of precontrived notions. She needed that tangible proof that her enticing creations ignited a man’s sexual appetite as much as it did hers.
But who to use as a guinea pig for her experiment? One man in particular immediately came to mind, and she wouldn’t have hesitated to use him for her research—if he wasn’t already taken. That left her choices quite limited, and she wasn’t about to use her aphrodisiacs on just anyone.
She sighed. As for tonight, she was on her own to deal with her body’s demands, so she did the only thing she could. She returned to bed and took her fantasies of Jack Tremaine with her.
FIVE DAYS AFTER the Commerce dinner, Jack still couldn’t get Kayla Thomas off his mind, and like a man driven by a deep burning need, he had to see her again. Thoughts of her had consumed him during the day when he should have been concentrating on the proposals and estimates he needed to review and approve for the new restaurant. Those thoughts had followed him right into some pretty intense erotic dreams. Each morning he’d awakened with an aching hard-on, and a cold shower had been a lousy substitute for what he really wanted—the reality of Kayla, soft and warm beneath him.
The image of that provocative fantasy had the fly of his jeans growing uncomfortably tight as he drove toward Seaport Village, reminding him just how long he’d been without a woman.
He’d never slept with Gretta and had ended things with her the night of the dinner, which had resulted in her slamming her door in his face. But her scorn was a small price to pay for his freedom. With new and exciting prospects beckoning to him, he felt more charged and alive than he had in months, possibly years. Tremaine’s Downtown was getting a new dessert menu, and now he was completely free to explore his attraction to Kayla.
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.