If You Can't Stand the Heat... (Harlequin Kiss) (7 page)

That was enough to yank his attention back, and fast. Jack felt his molars grinding. ‘You do know I get very annoyed when you interfere in my life, Mitchell?’

Mitchell, never intimidated, just laughed. ‘Oh, get over yourself! You haven’t taken any time off in two years and we all know that leads to burnout. You’ve been flirting with it for a while, boyo.’

‘Crap.’

‘If you don’t believe me, check your last couple of stories. You’ve always been super-fair and unemotional, but there’s a fine line between being unemotional and robotic, Jack. You are drifting over that line. Losing every bit of empathy is every bit as problematic as having too much.’

‘Again...crap,’ Jack muttered, but wondered if Mitchell had a point. He remembered being in Egypt six weeks ago and watching a paramedic work on a badly beaten protester. He’d been trying to recall if he’d paid his gas bill. Maybe he was taking the role of observer a bit too far.

‘I’m going to courier you my notebooks, my diaries,’ Mitchell told him. ‘Get some sun, drink some wine. But if you don’t get cracking on my book...’

Mitch repeated the most gruesome of Ellie’s Arabic curses from the night before and Jack winced.

Jack tossed the mobile onto the bed, slapped his hands on his hips and stared at the photographs he’d replaced against the wall. Ellie... Maybe he should think about leaving, and soon. Almost kissing her last night had been a mistake...

Sure, he was attracted to her—she was stunning; what man wouldn’t be? If she was a different type of girl then he could have her, enjoy her and then leave. Unfortunately he wasn’t just physically attracted, and he
knew
that mental attraction was a sticky quagmire best avoided. And, practically, while Mitch wouldn’t win any Father of the Year awards he might not approve of them hooking up, and he didn’t want to cause friction between him and his subject, mentor and colleague.

Ellie, with her cosy house and settled lifestyle—the absolute opposite of what he liked and needed—was also far more fascinating than he generally liked his casual partners to be. Because fascination always made leaving so much harder than it needed to be.

* * *

‘Morning.’

Ellie jumped as he entered the kitchen, looking tough and rugged and a whole lot of sexy. She could see that his hair had deep red highlights in the chocolate-brown strands. He’d scraped off his beard and the violet stripes under his eyes were almost gone. He did, however, still have that glint in his eyes—the one that said he wanted to tear up the bedcovers with her.

Ellie cursed when she felt heat rising up her neck.

‘Can I get some coffee?’

Jack’s question yanked her out of her reverie and she nodded, reaching for a mug above the coffee machine to give her hands something to do.

‘You’re up early,’ she said when she’d found her voice.

Jack took the cup she handed him and leaned against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. ‘Mmm. Good coffee. I went for a run this morning along the beachfront. It was...absolutely amazing. It’s such a beautiful part of the world.’

‘It is, but should you be exercising yet?’

‘I’m fine.’

Yeah, she didn’t think so—but it was his body, his choice, his pain. Ellie shook her head, picked up her own cup and sipped. She echoed his stance and leaned against the counter. Tension swirled between them and Ellie thought she could almost see the purple elephant sitting in the room, eyebrow cocked and smirking.

Maybe it would be better just to get it out there and in the open. But she couldn’t get the words out... How she wished she could be one of those upfront, ballsy girls who just said what they felt and lived with the consequences.

She was still—especially when it came to men—the shy, awkward girl she’d been as a teenager.

Jack’s eyebrows pulled together. ‘The wariness is back in your eyes. Why?’

‘Uh...last night. Um—’ Oh, great. Now her tongue was on strike.

Jack, no slouch mentally, immediately picked up on what she was trying to say. ‘The kiss that never happened?’

Ellie blushed. ‘Mmm.’

‘Yeah—sorry. I said I wouldn’t hit on you and I did.’ His tone didn’t hold a hint of discomfort or embarrassment.

Ellie bit the inside of her lip. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. Actually, she had no idea
what
she’d thought he’d say. The purple elephant grinned. ‘I just... It’s just that...’

Jack scratched the underside of his jaw and looked at her with his gold-flecked eyes. ‘Relax, Ellie,’ he said. ‘It won’t happen again...’

Ellie lifted her eyes to meet his and swallowed. In his she could read desire and lust and a healthy dose of amusement...as if he could read her thoughts, understand her confusion.

‘Well...’ he drawled as his finger gently pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen over her left eye. ‘Maybe I should clarify that. I’ll try not to let it happen again. You’re very, very kissable, Ellie Evans.’

Ellie’s eyes narrowed. She might not be the most assertive person in the world but that didn’t mean he could look at her with those hot eyes and that smirky expression. Or presume that whatever happened between them would be solely
his
decision. Ellie narrowed her eyes, gripped the finger that had come to rest on her cheek and bent it backwards.

Hating personal confrontation, but knowing she needed to do this for the sake of her self-respect, she took a deep breath and forced the words out. ‘There’s only one person who will decide what happens between us and that will be me—not you.’

Jack grimaced and yanked his index finger out of her grip. He shook his finger out and sent her a surprised look. But, gratifyingly, there was an admiration in those hazel eyes that hadn’t been there before and she liked seeing it there.

Jack sent her an approving smile. ‘Good for you. I was wondering if you could stand up for yourself.’

Ellie narrowed her eyes. ‘When I need to. No casual kissing.’

‘Can we do
non
-casual kiss...?’ Jack held up his hands at her fulsome glare. ‘Joke! Peace!’

‘Ha-ha.’ Ellie rolled her shoulders. ‘Would you like to go to work for me today?’ she asked, blatantly changing the subject. ‘I could do with a day off.’

‘Okay—except my sugar icing and sculpting skills are sadly lacking. I can, however, make a mean red velvet cake.’

Ellie lowered her cup in surprise. ‘You can bake?’

Ellie thought she saw pain flicker in his eyes. When he spoke his voice was gruff.

‘Yes, I can bake. Normal stuff. Not pastries and croissants and fancy crap.’

Fancy crap? Well, that was one way to describe her business.

‘Who taught you?’ Ellie asked, openly curious.

‘My mother.’

Ellie lifted her eyebrows. ‘Sorry, I can’t quite picture you baking as a kid. On bikes, on a sports field, camping—yes. Baking...no.’

Jack placed his cup on the counter and turned his face away from her. ‘Well, it wasn’t from choice.’

He sipped his coffee and when he looked at her again his face and eyes were devoid of whatever emotion she’d seen. Fear? Anger? Pain? A combination of all three?

This time it was Jack’s turn to change the subject. ‘So—breakfast. What are we having?’

Ellie looked at her watch and shook her head. ‘No time. I need to go. I was supposed to be at work an hour ago.’

Jack shook his head. ‘You should eat.’

‘I’ll grab something at the bakery.’

Well, she’d try to, but she frequently forgot. There just wasn’t time most days. Ellie sighed. One of these days she’d have to start eating properly and sleeping more, but it wouldn’t be any time soon. Maybe when Merri came back she could ease off a bit...but she probably wouldn’t.

After all, she had a business to save.

Ellie looked at Jack, who was pulling eggs and bacon out of her fridge. Her mouth started to water. She’d kill for a proper fry-up...

Ellie pulled her thoughts away from food. ‘So, I’ve given you keys to the house and I’ve just paid the deposit for you to hire a car. It should be delivered by eight so you won’t be confined to the house any more.’

‘The receipt for the deposit?’ Jack sent her a level look.

Ellie rolled her eyes. He was insistent that she kept receipts for everything she spent so that he could repay her. ‘In the hollow back of the wooden elephant on the hall table. With all the others.’

The annoying man wouldn’t even allow her to buy milk or bread without asking for a receipt.

‘Thanks.’

Jack slit open the pack of bacon and Ellie whimpered. She really, really didn’t have time. She picked up her keys and bag, holding her chef’s jacket in one hand.

‘Pop down to the bakery later. I’ll show you around. If you want to,’ she added hastily.

Jack’s smile had her melting like the gooey middle of her luscious chocolate brownies.

‘I’ll do that. See you later, then.’

Ellie bravely resisted the arc of sexual awareness that shimmered between them and sighed as she walked out of the kitchen.

In your dreams, Ellie.
Because that was the only place making love to Jack was going to happen.

And even there her heart wasn’t welcome to come to the party. Her heart, she’d decided a long time ago, wasn’t allowed to party with
anyone
any more.

* * *

Later, dressed in denim shorts, flip-flops and an easy navy tee, Jack slipped through the front door of Pari’s and looked over Ellie’s business.

There were café-style tables outside, giving patrons the most marvellous view of the beach while they sipped their coffee and ate their muffins, and more wrought-iron tables inside, strategically placed between tables piled with preserves and organic wines, ten different types of olive oil and lots of other jars and tins of exotic foods with names he barely recognised. The décor was bohemian chic—he’d noticed that before—and all effortlessly elegant. Huge glass display fridges held a wide variety of pastries and cakes, and in another layer thick pink hams, haunches of rare roast beef and dark sausages.

It looked inviting and happy, and there was a line of people three deep at the wide counter, waiting to be served. The place was rocking, obviously extremely popular, and Jack suddenly realised what effort would be needed to move the bakery. If Ellie could find a place to move it to...

‘Jack!’

Jack whipped his head up and saw Ellie approaching a table in the back corner of the room, a bottle of water in her hand. A good-looking couple sat at the table and Ellie motioned him over. Jack threaded his way through tables and people and ended up at the table, where a fourth chair was unoccupied.

‘Paula and Will—meet my friend Jack. Take a seat, Jack,’ Ellie said.

After shaking hands with Will, Jack pulled out the chair and sat down.

‘I’m just about to chat to them about their wedding cake, but before we start does anyone want coffee?’ Ellie continued.

Jack wasn’t sure why he was sitting in on a client consultation, but since he didn’t have anything better to do decided to go with the flow. He ordered a double espresso and noticed that Will was frowning at him.

‘Do I know you?’ Will asked, puzzled.

This was one of the things he most liked about Cape Town—the fact that people hardly recognised him. While he wasn’t famous enough to attract paparazzi attention in the UK, his face was recognisable enough to attract some attention.

‘I have one of those faces,’ he lied.

Ellie sent him a grin. ‘I’m just going to run through some ideas with Will and Paula, then I’ll show you around.’

She placed her notebook on the table and switched into work mode, outwardly confident. Jack listened as the couple explained why they now wanted a Pari’s cake—their cake designer had let them down at the last moment—and watched, amazed, as Ellie took their rather vague ideas and transformed them into a quickly sketched but brilliantly drawn concept cake. He sampled various types of cake along with the couple, and when they asked for his opinion confirmed that he liked the Death by Chocolate best. Though the carrot ran a close second. Or maybe the fudge...

If he hung around the bakery more often Jack decided he’d have to add another couple of miles to his daily run to combat the calories and the cholesterol.

Ellie watched her clients go as she gathered her papers and shoved a pencil into the messy knot of hair behind her head.

‘Today is Monday. Their wedding is on Saturday. I’m going to have to do some serious juggling to get it done for them.’ Ellie rubbed her hand over her eyes.

‘So why are you doing it, then?’ Jack asked, curious.

‘They are a sweet couple, and a wedding cake is important,’ Ellie replied.

‘Sweet? No. But they sure are slick.’

Ellie looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

She might be confident about her work but she was seriously naïve when it came to reading people, instinctively choosing to believe that people put their best foot forward.

Jack leaned his forearms on the table and shook his head. ‘El, they were playing you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘They decided to come to you for their wedding cake—but it wasn’t because their cake designer let them down. They knew there was no chance you’d make their cake at such late notice if they didn’t have a rock-solid reason and they appealed to the romantic in you.’

‘But why would you think that? I thought they were perfectly nice and above-board.’

‘She doesn’t blink—at all—when she lies, and his eyes slide to the right. Trust me, they were playing you.’

‘Huh...’ Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Are you sure?’

Of course he was. He’d interviewed ten-year-olds with a better ability to lie. ‘So, what are you going to do?’

Ellie stood up and shrugged. ‘Make them their cake, of course. Let’s go.’

Of course she was. Jack sighed as he followed her to the back of the bakery. She was going to produce a stunning, complicated cake in five days and their guests would be impressed, not knowing how she’d juggled her schedule to fit it in.

‘I’m beginning to suspect you’re a glutton for punishment,’ Jack told Ellie as she pushed through the stable door leading to the back of the bakery. And a sucker too. But he kept that thought to himself.