Secret Ingredient: Love (10 page)

Tingles started in her chest and rippled outward, racing down her arms and over her thighs. Her knees threatened to buckle until his strong arm settled comfortably around her waist, gently urging her against his solid length. Almost of their own will, her hands slid up his chest and curved around his neck. Her heart pumped faster, but her breath seemed to collect and stall in her lungs.

Fran pressed closer to him, her breasts flattening against the wall of his chest. She thrilled to the sensation of his arms tightening around her and to the sound of his own unsteady breathing. And all the while his mouth, tender and tantalizing, explored hers.

He upped the stakes when his tongue probed at the seam of her lips. She opened, permitting him access. He caressed the interior, softly, gently, completely. Her blood pounded through her veins and her heart thumped against her chest. Heat radiated through her. When she touched her tongue to his, he sucked in an unsteady breath and pulled her even more firmly to him.

Then he turned his attention to her jaw and nibbled tender kisses down her neck, stopping at a spot just below her ear. Her breasts seemed to swell and grow heavy, and her tingles grew tingles. The air in her lungs released with a frustrated sigh.

He kissed her like a man who knew what he was doing and it was a heady experience. He kissed her deftly and thoroughly, and made her want more. Either he wasn’t out of practice as he’d said, or knowing how to please a woman was instinctive for him.

“Fran,” he whispered raggedly against her mouth.
He pulled back slightly before resting his forehead against hers. “What was it you said?” he asked, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

It took her several moments to remember. “I believe I thanked you for everything you did.”

“You’re welcome.” He drew in a deep breath.

“But I was premature,” she said, trying to steady herself, slow down her pulse. “Now I need to thank you for that. I thought you said you didn’t date.”

“I don’t,” he said, looking down at her.

“Well, your kisser sure isn’t out of practice.”

He grinned. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me.”

“Good, because now I want you to leave. And I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

He frowned. “Should I say I’m sorry?”

“You’re the boss. You tell me.”

Somehow she had to get back her professional detachment. Ha! And for her next magical trick maybe she could pull it out of a hat, because she hadn’t been emotionally detached since meeting Alex.

He loosened his hold and took a half step back. Then he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand was shaking. “I’d be lying if I said I was sorry. See you at work Monday,” he said as he opened the door.

“Not if I see you first,” she whispered, closing it after him.

By the end of the next week, Alex had decided that while his kisser might not be out of practice, his intuition about women definitely was. It had taken him four workdays to realize that Fran had managed to stay out of his way for all that time, except for brief moments.
He got it when his secretary informed him that Fran had canceled out on their Friday afternoon meeting. She’d gone home early with a headache. And before he could comment, Joyce had confirmed that Fran looked tired and overworked, and a boss in touch with his feminine side would do something nice. Fran’s excuse might be legitimate, but it highlighted the fact that he hadn’t seen much of her lately and he’d missed her.

He stood outside her door now and wondered what the heck he was doing back at the scene of the crime. He’d kissed her, and he’d liked it. She’d liked it, if his instincts weren’t completely rusted out. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that kissing her had sent her running for cover.

What had possessed him to do it?

Something had shifted for him that day with her family. He’d never felt anything like that need to protect her, not even with Beth. Which was odd since, on the surface at least, Fran was spirited and spunky. Nothing like the woman he’d lost. But somehow, he sensed Fran’s vulnerability and how easily she could be hurt. And he didn’t want anyone to hurt her. It was damned confusing. Especially why he’d kissed her in the first place.

He considered himself a man of above average intelligence. And he had a fair share of common sense. But when he had been in Fran’s apartment, saying good-night, and she’d looked at him with that sexy look she had, the one so hot it could melt butter… He shook his head.

“That’s why it’s not a good idea to mix business and pleasure,” he said to himself.

If he had any sense at all, he would turn around and walk away. Then he made a fist and knocked on her
door. Apparently he had no sense. Inside, he heard a slight scraping sound and smiled. She was dragging her step stool to the peephole to check out who was there. Would she open the door when she saw it was him?

Several moments passed, and he thought she was going to ignore him. Then he heard the chain slide from the lock, and the door opened.

She stood there in black sweatpants and a white fleece shirt. Her brown hair was secured on top of her head with a clip. Her creamy skin was completely free of makeup. Dark circles stained the curve beneath her chocolate-colored eyes. And guilt assailed him. Not the kind he used to feel on Beth’s account. Thanks to Fran, he wasn’t rooted in the past any longer. He knew love wasn’t in the crystal ball, but life could still be fun and fulfilling. Like working with Fran, for instance. Although he was afraid he’d been working her too hard in order to get his campaign off the ground. And that was the source of his guilt.

“Hi,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was worried about you. You called in sick for our meeting today.”

“I have a headache.”

“So I heard.”

“Are you here to check up on me?” she asked.

“I’m here to help.” He held out a brown paper bag. “I’ve brought you the latest headache remedy. It’s like an ice pack. You put it on your forehead and it’s supposed to soothe.”

She took the sack. “Thanks.”

She frowned, then winced and touched her fingers to her temple. He kicked himself for letting her put in
all the long hours. And he suspected that kissing her had pushed the needle of her stress meter into the red.

“Are you so solicitous of all your employees?” she asked.

“Honestly?” At her nod, he said, “Just the ones who are overworked.” And underkissed, he thought.

She looked over her shoulder as if there was someone behind her. “There’s no one here who fits that description.”

“Would you mind if I come in?” he asked. At her doubtful look, he added, “I won’t stay long.”

She hesitated only a moment before opening the door wide enough to admit him. “Sorry. Please come in.”

“Thanks.” He caught the floral scent of her perfume as he passed her.

The fragrance, like a meadow of flowers, would forever bring her to his mind. If he was in a pitch-black room, the scent would lead him straight to her. And finding her mouth would be as easy as falling off a log.

Desire sprang to life and curled inside him. He wanted to hold her again, feel her breasts pressed against his chest, kiss her sensuous mouth and feel her passionate response. Wow, Fran had brought him back to life—all of him, he thought ruefully. But it was only lust, pure and simple. It couldn’t be anything else. Curbing it wouldn’t be easy, but he would if it killed him. Because in spite of her claim to the contrary, Fran was a forever-after kind of woman. And his chance at love was used up.

But that wasn’t why he’d stopped by, he reminded himself. He was being a Good Samaritan.

“I disagree. You fit the classic description of an
overworked employee.” He took her arm and led her to the sofa.

“And what’s that?”

“Cranky, short-tempered and ducking the boss.”

“I’m not,” she protested. “I wasn’t. I didn’t.” But she couldn’t quite look him in the eye.

On the couch, there was a pillow where she’d obviously been resting. “Lie down,” he said.

“But—”

“I’m the boss,” he said firmly. He gently pushed her down, then lifted her legs and swung them around to make her recline. He took the bag from her, opened the package and placed the cool patch on her forehead. “Now. How does that feel?”

“Mmm,” she said, closing her eyes. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, because I’ve got one more prescription.”

“What?” she asked. Her eyes snapped open and there was a definite glint of suspicion in them.

“A long weekend in the mountains.”

She started to shake her head, and winced. “Just pick up and take off? But I can’t. I don’t have anyplace to stay.”

“My family has a cabin in Big Bear. It was a getaway love nest for my folks when we were kids. Rosie and Steve fell in love there. So did Nick and Abby, if family scuttlebutt can be trusted.”

She smiled. “I guess you don’t go there.”

“No.” He put keys and written directions on the table. “And I’m not now. You can have the place all to yourself. Long walks in the fresh air and lots of R and R is what you need. You’ve been putting in a lot
of hours at work and preparing for my brother’s wedding on top of that. So off you go for a rest.”

She sat up and her headache patch plopped onto her chest. “It does sound enticing.”

Not as enticing as holding her in his arms and kissing her until she released her sweet, sexy little sigh that drove him wild. Sweat popped out on his forehead as he stuck his hands in his pockets and backed toward the door.

“No argument,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Go. Fly. Be free. And don’t come back until you’re not cranky, short-tempered or ducking the boss anymore.”

The last part was the most important to him.

Chapter Nine

F ran unlocked and opened the cabin door and looked around. A circular brick fireplace sat in the center of the large room. A hunter-green-and-maroon plaid sofa and love seat formed a conversation area on one side, with oak occasional tables arranged around it. Through a doorway to her right, she found the downstairs master bedroom and bath, complete with gold fixtures.

“What a terrific place,” she whispered, setting her suitcase down in the room.

She walked back through the main living area to see what the getaway-place kitchen of a restaurant family looked like. Halfway there, she noticed that the carpet felt squishy, and she got that please-God-no feeling in the pit of her stomach. Hurrying the rest of the way, she entered the room and had a general impression of ceramic tile countertops and a center work island before she noticed water pouring out from underneath the sink. It was half an inch deep and spreading steadily.

“Holy smoke. It’s a full-fledged flood,” she said.
“What do I do now? Duh. That’s a no brainer. Stop the water, genius. That’s easier said than done. There’s never a man around when you need one.”

She turned off the water under the sink. Then used a lot of precious time finding a wrench and the main shut-off valve outside. Now what? A quick survey of the downstairs revealed that the living room carpet was saturated. Her first instinct was to call Alex. Her second was no way.

When he’d offered her the cabin, she’d figured he wanted to put some distance between them as much as she did. She couldn’t speak for him, but for her it was because of that kiss—and the way it had made her feel. She’d managed to avoid him at work for the last week, mostly because he’d been out of the office a lot. Her headache had forced her to cancel out on the meeting, but then he’d shown up at her apartment with the latest wonder cure. How sweet was that?

Now she was avoiding him in the mountains. Head for the hills had never been more literal. But she felt sure someone in the Marchetti family would want to know their cabin was full of water. It was Saturday so she knew she wouldn’t find anyone at the office. Alex’s home number was in her organizer, but she’d already established that he wouldn’t want to hear from her. Could she get in touch with anyone else? Rosie. She found her friend’s business card in her purse, and luckily, her home number was on it, too.

Her footsteps squishing on the watery carpet, Fran located the phone in the living room. The water had risen high enough to wet the fabric on the furniture. And it was oozing farther into the room, causing more damage. At least nothing was floating.

After she tapped in the numbers, the phone rang twice before her friend picked up. “Rosie, it’s Fran—”

“Hey, stranger. I heard the tasting was fantastic. My parents raved about you. The whole arm-wrestling thing and the kiss, a stroke of genius—”

“Rosie, listen, there’s a problem.”

“What?” she asked.

“I’m at your family’s cabin in the mountains and I just got here—”

“Great. Tell Alex hi for me. Besides the fact that you’re with my brother, what’s the problem?”

“Alex isn’t here. But water is. Lots and lots.” She took a deep breath. “A pipe broke under the kitchen sink and the water is deep enough to do the backstroke. The living room carpet is soaked. I’ve shut off the water to the house, but I don’t know who to call. I can’t authorize cleanup and repairs. Not to mention notifying the insurance company. Help—”

“Sit tight. I’ll send reinforcements.”

“Rosie, don’t bother Alex—”

There was a click on the other end of the line, and Fran had a feeling that her friend either hadn’t heard or would ignore the last part. But maybe she wouldn’t be able to locate him on his day off. There were lots of other family members. Fran had a one-in-seven chance of getting someone besides the man who could make enough at a carnival kissing booth to be comfortable for the rest of his life. There was every reason to believe luck would be on her side.

Two and a half hours later she saw Alex’s car stop in front of the cabin, and she made a mental note not to go to Las Vegas anytime soon. Although she tried very hard to shush it, there was a part of her doing a
cheer at the sight of him. And not just because of the flood.

He looked good.

She was standing outside on the deck, and watched as he climbed the two flights of wooden stairs to the front door. Fortunately, she’d brought a heavy jacket. She’d known it would be cold, but hadn’t expected to be stuck outside while the insurance company water-loss unit worked their magic. She had to admit it was worth all the anxiety to behold the sight of Alex in worn jeans and a blue-and-gray plaid flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up. Beneath it he wore a black Henley undershirt, and she couldn’t help thinking he could pass for a lumberjack. Her gaze was drawn to his broad shoulders and wide chest. He had the strength for the job, she thought.

He could fit right in anywhere—backwoods, boardroom…bedroom. Don’t go there, she warned herself.

“Hi,” she said, when he reached her.

“Hi, yourself,” he shouted over the sound of the pump motor. He stepped over the cords and lines strewn about the wooden deck.

“The insurance company got a crew here about an hour ago.”

He nodded. “It’s a national company with a good reputation. They told me on the phone that a special unit would be dispatched right away to minimize damage.”

“They’re taking care of everything pretty efficiently. As soon as they arrived, I called Rosie to let her know that it wasn’t necessary to bother sending anyone up here. I hoped you wouldn’t come.” That sounded cowardly, not to mention ungracious. “I mean I didn’t want her to bother anyone on their day off.”

He shrugged. “I drew the short straw. Ma said no one else was available. The insurance company will take care of damage, but I have to find a plumber to fix the original problem.”

So he hadn’t come on account of her. When disappointment tugged at her, she tried to replace it with an I’m-lucky-he-doesn’t-care feeling that wouldn’t quite take hold.

She watched him push open the door. “Brace yourself. Break out the life jackets. We’re talking abandon ship. Women and children first.” Fran handed him the card the insurance company had given her. “They removed the downstairs furniture and took it to storage.”

He nodded. “Obviously they’re doing cleanup now.”

“Yeah. That motor belongs to the pump getting rid of the excess water,” she explained. “Then they’re going to lift the carpet and put fans around to dry it out before assessing what, if anything, can be salvaged.”

He went inside to speak to the man in charge. Fran looked up at the sky and watched clouds roll in. The gusting wind was bitterly cold and she folded her arms over her chest against the chill. As soon as Alex came out, she would say goodbye and leave everything in his capable hands.

“They have everything under control,” he said from the doorway behind her.

Fran turned, and his somber expression tugged at her heart. It was so different from how he’d looked when he’d told her about the cabin’s romantic history. Obviously it held many happy memories. And now one not so happy.

She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about this, Alex.”

“We were lucky.” He looked down at her. Between them, their mingled breath turned to a white cloud. He covered her fingers with his warm palm.

“You call that lucky?” she asked, angling her head toward where the crew was cleaning up.

He nodded. “Everyone in the family uses this place. And over the years we’ve established a list of things to do before leaving. The very last thing is shutting off the water. Someone forgot.” He shook his head, and the breath he released was visible in the cold air. “It could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t come up here.”

She’d thought about that, too. “One of the guys said it’s supposed to get even colder tonight. A storm’s coming in, so it really could have been bad. I’m glad I could help.”

“Me, too.”

“So much for R and R.” She saw her own breath as she sighed sadly. “I was looking forward to getting away. But now that you’re here, I guess I’ll head back down the mountain.”

He frowned. “I’m only staying until the plumber gets here. When he fixes the sink there will be running water. The cleanup crew is almost finished. They’re going to leave the fans going downstairs, but the second story where the bedrooms are is fine. There are separate heating units for each floor so it will be cozy and warm. You can still stay here. If you’d like.”

She liked, and couldn’t think of a single reason not to stay, since he was planning on driving back that night. She nodded. “Thanks, Alex. I think I will.”

“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We’re just in the way now. But since I am here, let me show you
around town before I leave. It’s the least I can do to apologize for the crisis.”

“It’s not your fault. No apology required.”

“I insist.”

Alex couldn’t remember a luckier break or when apologizing had been so much fun. After his mother had called to tell him about the crisis, he’d suspected her of matchmaking again. But she’d insisted that he was the last one on her family list. Everyone else was tied up and couldn’t go.

From the cabin, he’d called a plumber to fix the pipe. Then he and Fran had eaten a fast-food lunch. Now they were strolling along the main street of the Alpine village in the San Bernardino Mountains. Shop windows were filled with souvenirs and decorated with red hearts, white doilies and crimson crepe paper for Valentine’s Day, just a little over a week away.

As they walked, their arms brushed or fingers touched, and each time he almost took her hand in his. But somehow, that felt more intimate than the kiss in her apartment. The meeting of mouths he could chalk up to pure and simple lust. But holding hands implied being a couple, which inferred being in love. That wasn’t possible. Not a second time. When a Marchetti fell in love, it lasted a lifetime. At least that’s what he’d told himself after Beth died.

But that was before he’d met Fran.

Now he wasn’t so sure. He just knew there was a line between friendship and caring about someone that he didn’t want to cross. Kissing her was easy to explain. He was a guy. He hadn’t been able to help himself. But it was broad daylight now and they were in public. And the temptation of grabbing Fran’s hand
was almost more than he could resist. If only her shining eyes, full lips and easy laughter didn’t grab him in the region of his heart. If only he didn’t want to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless—broad daylight and the curious public be damned.

“Let’s go in here, Alex,” she said, stopping in front of a card store.

“Okay.” It would distract him, take the edge off his feelings.

The bell over the door tinkled as they went inside. In the front was a table of leftover Christmas decorations marked seventy-five percent off. The rest of the place had three dimensional red hearts and cupids festively displayed to draw the customer’s attention to the one day of the year set aside for lovers. His brother’s wedding day.

Alex envied Joe and Liz, and the rest of his siblings who had found contentment with someone. He and Luke were the only ones left. He couldn’t speak for Luke, but Valentine’s Day reminders made him wish a Marchetti got a second chance at love. The day set aside for lovers had a way of really making him feel alone.

Fran stopped at a stand of cards marked Wedding. “I need to get a card for Joe and Liz,” she explained.

Had she been reading his mind? “You don’t have to do that. I think helping with the food is enough,” he answered.

“They were kind enough to ask me to be their guest as well. It’s only polite to acknowledge their day.”

“Even though the idea of marriage gives you a case of hives?”

She picked up a card and absently scanned the words. “Just because I don’t want to fetch and carry
for a man doesn’t mean I don’t believe it works for other people.”

“I see.” Funny, he’d sort of hoped she would say she’d changed her mind about marriage.

“Some people manage it successfully. Your sister, for instance. And your parents. And my parents, for goodness’ sake. But after what I did at my mother’s birthday, I guess you can see why it won’t work for me.” She slanted him a wry look. “I can’t subject some poor unsuspecting guy to a milk shower just because he asks me to bring him something.”

“Even if the poor unsuspecting guy knew what he was getting into? What if you fell head over heels in love?” he asked.

“That won’t happen,” she answered, turning away to put the card back.

Her response rankled. He told himself it had nothing to do with him. It was because she was made for love. He had tasted her passion and knew what a waste it would be if she turned her back on a relationship. If anyone knew how fulfilling it could be to love and be loved in return it was him. And he sensed that she had so much to give.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“How do I know what?”

“That you won’t fall head over heels in love?”

“Because I won’t let myself,” she answered with absolute conviction.

Fran couldn’t get the card-store conversation out of her mind for the rest of the day. In fact, the words came back in a more personal way as they were seated for dinner a little while later in a restaurant called Casual Elegance. A better name might have been the Love
Nest. Maybe all the Valentine hearts and cupids had put that thought in her head. To say nothing of the hunk and a half sitting across the table from her. But this place was perfect for lovers, she thought. And she couldn’t help wondering if Alex had insisted that they come here because he’d taken her declaration to never fall in love as a personal challenge.