In Her Wildest Dreams

IN HER WILDEST DREAMS

by

Farrah Rochon

Kindle Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Farrah Rochon

Kindle Edition License Notes

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Chapter One

The heady aroma of rich, dark chocolate enrobed Erica Cole the second she walked through the doors of Decadente Artisan Chocolates. She inhaled a lungful of the slightly sweet, slightly smoky-scented air, letting the intense fragrance permeate her senses.  

“Oh, yeah,” Erica breathed. “This is what I need.”

Her daily sojourn to the specialty shop, located in New Orleans’s Riverwalk Marketplace, which hugged the Mississippi River, was as much a part of her routine as getting the mail and brushing her hair. But there was nothing routine about today’s visit. She was here with one purpose in mind: chocolate therapy. Serious chocolate therapy.

Erica walked up to the display case, the overhead lights reflecting off of the gold filigree that trimmed the spotless glass. It was stocked with ceramic trays of crafted chocolates that were, in themselves, works of art. Erica eyed a tiramisu truffle and had to swallow back a moan. She could taste it already.

“Hi there, Lady,” Tonya Davenport, the public face of Decadente, greeted her.

“Hi Tonya.” Erica smiled at the woman who had been at the high-end chocolate boutique since it first opened its doors just over a year ago. “Where’s your fearless leader?”

“He’s in the kitchen.” Tonya tilted her head toward the swinging door behind her. “Tell him I’m running low on chocolate-dipped Bing cherries.”

“Will do,” Erica called over her shoulder as she walked around the counter and entered the kitchen. She stepped into the brightly lit space, flung her arms out dramatically, and cried, “Gavin, I need you to work your magic on me!”

The neatly trimmed head bent over the marble worktable rose slowly. Gavin Foster, Decadente’s proprietor and head chocolatier, arched his brows over his auburn eyes.

“What type of magic are we talking about?”

Erica’s mouth tipped up in a wicked grin. “You know what I’m talking about,” she said, her voice purposely seductive, though the amusement she couldn’t mask killed the effect.

“Regular milk won’t do today,” she continued. She sidled up to him, peering at the battered copper bowl cradled in Gavin’s arms. “I need at least sixty percent pure dark. Maybe even seventy.”

“Ouch.” Gavin’s forehead dipped in a concerned frown. “What brought this about? You usually don’t go for the strong stuff unless you mistakenly missed a sale at Macy’s.”

“Ha ha,” Erica deadpanned. “My problems are so much worse than a missed sale. Let’s start with the date from hell.”

Gavin cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. “Tell me you didn’t go out with the guy from that dating Website.”

Erica didn’t try to conceal her guilt.

He groaned. “The guy suggested going out on a Tuesday because it’s the two-for-one seafood special night. Didn’t that tell you something right there?”

“That wasn’t the only reason he wanted to go out on a Tuesday,” she pointed out. “It was also half-off dessert night.”

“Oh, yeah? Did you last until dessert?”

Erica shot him a look. “Shut up.”

Gavin shook his head. With a grunt, he said, “You never learn.”

“I’ve learned my lesson this time. Really,” she stressed when Gavin’s mouth slanted in a frown, his expression saying he was unconvinced. “I’m done with online dating. I should have left the restaurant the minute he stopped me from ordering a soda and ordered two cups of tap water instead. He pulled out a couple of those little individual drink mixers from his pocket and tossed one over to me.”

Gavin’s lips twitched in amusement. “Which friend signed you up for this Website, again?”

“It’s Sylvia, my old college roommate.”

“Did you ruin her favorite sweater or something back in college? I think this online dating experiment is some kind of payback.”

“No, I did not.” She laughed. “Ever since she got married she’s been trying to find someone for me. Sylvia’s heart is in the right place, but I should have told her not to bother.”

“Or you could have just told the guy no, as I suggested.”

“I know.” Erica pouted, feeling like a chastised eight-year-old, which made her want to pout even more. “It’s just that it’s that time of year again.”

“What time of year is that?”

“You know, Valentine’s Day. The season of love. That stupid, naked baby shooting arrows at people’s asses.”

“Valentine’s Day should be your favorite holiday with all the business coming your way,” Gavin said.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. Valentine’s Day is to Your Wildest Dreams what the Super Bowl is to a sports bar, but it doesn’t mean that I have to like it personally. It’s as if people forget that it’s inappropriate to get all lovey-dovey in public. Makes me feel as if I have a big neon sign flashing over my head: ‘Single loser, here’.”

A grin slowly spread across Gavin’s face. “You’re whining,” he said with a hint of disbelief. “You never whine.”

“Yeah, well, I’m due,” Erica grumbled. She leaned back against the high counter that spanned the kitchen’s left wall, resting her elbows on it and crossing her legs at the ankles. “I’ve accepted that I’ll be single forever. It’s better than ending up with some lowlife who treats me like crap and eats all the food out of my fridge. It’s probably hereditary.”

“Not only are you whining, but now you’re bringing up the ‘like mother, like daughter’
stuff? Not good, Erica.”

“Tell me about it,” she said. She picked up the pitchfork-like tool she’d seen Gavin use when dipping chocolates. “Sometimes, I feel like a fraud, creating these elaborate romantic escapades for people, when I have zero romance in my own life.”

“That’s by choice,” Gavin charged. With a penetrating look, he added, “You could have someone in your life if you really wanted to.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorted. “My latest attempt at romance cost me fifty bucks—because, yes, we split the check and I covered the entire tip—and a Tuesday night that could have been better spent watching television.”

“You’re not serious when it comes to these guys, Erica. When you’re
really
ready to find someone, the perfect guy will be there. Right in front of you.”

“Yeah, if only that perfect man existed.”

Gavin huffed out a frustrated breath. “You can’t be this blind, Erica.”

“What?”

“Forget it.” He went back to vigorously stirring the contents of the bowl.

Erica gestured toward the chocolates. “So, you feel bad enough for me yet?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin said. “You brought this on yourself. I warned you about going out with that guy.”

“But the date’s not even the half of it.”

“There’s more?”

She nodded. “Termites.

Gavin’s brow rose in blatant inquiry.

“Château Dumais has a termite infestation,” Erica explained. “They’ve had to completely shut down, and they don’t plan to reopen for another four weeks. Your Wildest Dreams has fourteen Valentine’s Day experiences booked there.”

“Now
that
sounds like a problem,” Gavin said.

“Breaking the heel on my favorite shoe is a problem. This is a disaster.”

Erica looked longingly at the rows of truffles lined up like little round soldiers on the slab of glossy marble. Some had yet to be dipped in the bowl of velvety chocolate. Others sat drying, the swirls on top an indication of what flavors resided inside. “I could sure use a pick-me-up,” she said.

Gavin’s eyes crinkled at the corners, along with his mouth, as he smirked at her. He walked over to the other end of his work area where the darker chocolates were. He picked out two of them, then walked over to her.

“Open your mouth,” he said in a voice that was as deep, and dark, and velvety as the confection he held between his fingers.

Erica obliged, closing her eyes and parting her lips. The moment Gavin placed the still slightly warm chocolate on her tongue, it started to melt, its smooth, creamy texture running down her throat.

“Oh, yeah. This is what I needed,” Erica purred. She opened her eyes and found Gavin’s sparkling with mischief.

“Just keep it up,” he said, his warning tone colored with humor.

If it were any other man standing before her, Erica would never play such a dangerous game of teasing, but the back-and-forth sexual innuendo had become a trademark of their friendship, a friendship she treasured above just about anything else in her life. He was one of the people she was closest to; he was supportive, loyal, and above all, safe.

She’d first met Gavin Foster three years ago, when he’d hired her to create a once-in-a-lifetime fantasy experience for his fiancée’s thirtieth birthday. Erica had just opened the doors to her event-planning business, Your Wildest Dreams. At the time, Gavin’s “experience” had been, by far, the most elaborate she’d ever produced.

A
lot
had changed in those three years.

For one thing, Gavin’s fiancée was now his ex-fiancée. And the romantic fantasy night Erica had put together for him paled in comparison with the elaborate experiences she now fashioned for Your Wildest Dreams’ high-end clientele.

Back then, Gavin was co-owner of a fast-growing tech business, but a couple of years ago he abruptly left, selling his interest in the company for something in the low to mid-eight figures range—he’d never given Erica an exact amount, and she’d never been bold enough to ask. A year later, he’d opened Decadente.

Erica used some of the software Gavin had created to keep Your Wildest Dreams organized and running efficiently, but she much preferred what he could do with a block of chocolate than with a computer. The man was an absolute master.

“How is it?” he asked her.

“Heavenly,” Erica responded, snatching the other chocolate from his hand. “This will help me get through the rest of my day while I try to find another hotel.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard.” Gavin shrugged. “New Orleans is a tourist city. The only thing that outnumbers the hotels here are the restaurants.”

“True, but you know I’m very particular. Château Dumais is one of only a handful of high-end boutique hotels, and most of them are likely already booked for Valentine’s Day. I’m not fooling myself into thinking it will be easy to find a suitable replacement on such short notice.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Gavin said, reaching over her head and retrieving a bottle labeled Madagascar Vanilla from the shelf. “You come back here after you’re done for the day and I’ll have a special treat waiting for you.”

“What’s that?” Erica asked.

“You have to come back to find out,” Gavin teased as he strolled over to the stove. He measured out a portion of vanilla and added it, along with heavy whipping cream, to a small pot. Erica knew from previous visits that he was preparing a ganache.

“I already know what it is,” she mused. “You’ve got my special chocolates.”

Last year, for Valentine’s Day, Gavin created a special truffle that was given exclusively to Your Wildest Dreams’ clients. Erica figured he had something in the works this year.

“Just be back here by six o’clock,” Gavin said.

Erica chuckled as she headed for the door. She stopped at the edge of the marble table, glanced over her shoulder, and raised a brow.

“You can have another one,” Gavin said.

She grinned. “Just put it on my tab.”

“That tab is about a mile long.”

“I know,” she sighed. “That’s why I really need to make time for the gym.”

The humor left Gavin’s expression, his eyes flaring with a rare burst of naked need. “You know damn well how good those curves look on you,” he said.

Erica paused with her palm flat against the swinging door, caught off-guard by the emotion Gavin had allowed to surface. Theirs was a relationship that thrived on playful teasing and lighthearted flirting. In the beginning there had been an undeniable mutual attraction, but, early on, by some unspoken edict, they’d chosen to ignore it.

Until now.

There was no ignoring the intense look in Gavin’s eyes.

Unsure of how to address it, Erica laughed it off, her usual response to his teasing.

“Yeah, right,” she said, discounting the tingle of satisfaction his compliment had elicited. After last night’s disastrous date, she was likely reading more into Gavin’s sensually-charged banter than usual.

But as she walked out of the kitchen, Erica couldn’t disregard the shift she’d sensed in Gavin. His stare had been oddly potent. Penetrating.