Secret Ingredient: Love (11 page)

The quaint forest cottage, which they learned had been built in 1939, was like a country home. The forty-five seat restaurant was decorated with white lace curtains, colorful wreaths, dark wood furniture and glowing wall sconces. Classical music added an air of romantic sophistication.

The smiling hostess seated them and took their drink orders. The equally friendly server brought water, wine for her and a beer for him, and told them about the evening’s specials. He discreetly drifted away when Alex informed him they needed a few minutes.

“So what do you think of the place?” he asked, looking around as if he already knew what she would say.

“This is exactly what I want my restaurant to be like someday,” she answered.

“How do you know? You haven’t tasted the food yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. In my own place, I can control the quality of what is served. But this quiet ambience is what I aspire to.” She grinned. “Plus any restaurant that serves Baldamero dip—a creamy artichoke, spinach and Muenster cheese concoction—with sourdough toastettes as an appetizer is probably gonna be dynamite.”

“You’re right.”

“Who’d have guessed there could be such an exceptional place tucked away here in the mountains?”

“Funny how we find what we’ve been looking for where we least expect it,” he answered, catching and holding her gaze.

The intensity in his eyes made her heart race. She felt as if she was sliding out of control down an icy mountain, desperate for a handhold to stop her descent and prevent imminent danger and pain.

“Tell me about Beth,” she blurted out.

She waited to see the shadow come over his face, but it never did. He calmly took his long-neck bottle of beer and lifted it to his mouth for a drink.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“What was it about her that you loved?” she asked simply.

He let out a long breath. “Why don’t you ask me the atomic weight of Denver?” he said. “That would be easier to answer.”

“Then tell me what you miss,” she suggested.

He thought for a few moments. “Her unselfishness. She was such a giving person. Always doing for me without complaint or expecting anything in return.”

“She sounds like a saint, or my mother. Come to think of it, my mother is a saint.” Unlike me, she thought, feeling uncomfortable somehow. “What did she look like?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Without hesitation, Alex said, “An angel. Her hair was golden-blond, eyes as blue as the unpolluted sky here in the mountains. And tall, almost my height,” he finished.

Completely different from me, Fran thought, somehow feeling deflated.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“If I said no, would it stop you?” he asked, his mouth turning up at the corners.

“Probably not.” She couldn’t return his smile. “Why did you want to know how I know that I won’t fall head over heels in love?”

“Because, in my experience, it isn’t something you can prevent. It just happens. And I just don’t picture you as the type to be alone for the rest of your life.”

“But you saw for yourself how my family is. The way my mother takes care of everyone else and has lost herself. I’ve just figured out who I am.”

“No one can take that away from you,” he answered.

“Not consciously. But it would happen just the same. Why would I want to change?”

“I don’t see that falling in love has to change you,” he answered.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you trying to talk me into something I’ve been successfully avoiding for a long time?”

“I just think you’re made for love.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“I thought I was. The guy in cooking school,” she reminded him. At his nod she continued. “But that wasn’t even close.”

“Then you don’t know what you’re missing.”

She frowned. “Look, just because you sign my paycheck doesn’t give you the right to run my life.”

“I wasn’t trying—”

“Yes, you were. And here’s food for thought—if you can prevent yourself from falling in love again, why can’t I keep it from happening in the first place?”
She let the statement hang there for a moment, then added, “In fact, it’s easier for me. I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

To her surprise, Alex just smiled at her. “See, it’s that passionate nature of yours that convinces me you need love.”

She stared at him for a few moments, then burst out laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“It’s my best quality,” he said, grinning.

“Remind me to quarantine you from Valentine’s Day displays.” Ditto for herself. She kept a firm grip on her heart as she let her gaze wander over his dark hair and smoldering eyes, the masculine shadow of beard on his cheeks and jaw. “You don’t look a thing like cupid.”

“No, but—”

She held up her hand. “I’m changing the subject now,” she announced.

“To what?” he asked.

She looked out the window. “To that,” she said, pointing. “I’m a southern California girl born and raised. But even I recognize that the white stuff falling from the sky is snow.”

He lifted the lace curtain beside him and frowned. “If that keeps up, it means we’re stuck with each other in the cabin tonight.”

“Stuck?” She raised one eyebrow. “An interesting choice of words.”

“It’s too dangerous to drive down the mountain in weather like this. Do you mind if I stay over with you?”

Of course she minded. “It’s your place,” she said, hoping her shrug had just the right amount of casual.
“I can’t very well ask you to leave.” Even she heard the edgy note in her voice.

“Are you afraid to stay with me?” His gaze settled on her mouth and, if possible, grew more intense.

“Why would I be?” she asked.

“Because I kissed you.”

She groaned inwardly. Why did he have to bring that up? What had made him think of it? She thought they’d managed to get past the earth-moving experience without having to talk about it. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

His laugh told her he knew she was lying. “Okay, we’ll play by your rules. We’ll forget about kissing.”

“So which bedroom do you want me in?” Fran asked.

“Mine,” Alex answered, without missing a beat.

She whirled around and stared at him. Speechless, she felt her eyes widen.

“Did I really say that out loud?” he asked. “I was kidding.”

“You don’t look like you’re kidding.” Before he could mask his expression, she’d seen hungry longing on his face.

They were standing in the upstairs loft surveying doors number one, two and three. The open area was like a grownup male playroom. A pool table dominated the center of the space and on the wall beside it was a rack for the cues. The opposite wall held a dartboard. Leather sofas with hunter-green throws across the back rimmed the perimeter. There was a low hum from the fans still running downstairs. But the second floor was toasty warm and getting hotter by the second.

He had told her that this cabin was where several
members of his family had fallen in love. He had told her he wasn’t looking for love. She’d counted on that. Now this Freudian slip about his bedroom. Could the icy road down the mountain be any more slippery than the situation she found herself in now?

“Even if I wasn’t kidding, what are you afraid of, Fran?”

“Myself.” She leaned back against the pool table and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m going to go out on a limb here, Alex. I don’t know if you feel it or not, but there’s this really annoying attraction sort of thing going on with us.”

He set her small suitcase down and moved in front of her. “Yeah. I sort of felt it. I’ve been out of circulation awhile, but I’m still breathing,” he said wryly.

“Awhile? Does that mean you are officially looking for a woman now?” Her heart pounded like the bass drum in the New Year’s Day parade.

“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “It means I think we should explore this annoying attraction. If we get it out in the open, deal with it, then we can let it go.”

He took a step closer. The wonderful masculine scent of his cologne surrounded her. The heat from his body reached out to her, drawing her to him. Her will to resist was stretched to the breaking point.

“Define explore,” she said breathlessly.

“I’ll demonstrate explore, but first I need to warn you that I did in fact agree to your rule. But my heart wasn’t in it.”

Before she could ask which rule he meant, he reached out and took her face in his hands, then bent slightly to touch his lips to hers. The contact made her stomach drop as if she were riding a white-knuckle ride
at an amusement park. Her heart hammered against the wall of her chest. He tunneled his fingers into her loose hair as he slowly, thoroughly, tenderly caressed her mouth.

As if they had a mind of their own, her arms uncrossed and she rested her hands on his chest. He settled his hand at her waist, drawing her to him. Fran’s breath caught as her resistance melted away. She relished the sensation of his other arm pulling her still closer and holding her tight. She was intoxicated by the mingling warmth of their bodies on a cold night, the way his kiss made her tingle from head to toe.

It had been so long since she’d been held like this. No. She’d been in a man’s arms before, but she’d never been held quite this way. Or maybe it was the fact that Alex was the only man who had ever made her feel so deeply. The emotion, whatever it was, was so profound that it frightened her. It made her wonder “what if.” That was a dangerous game to play.

But she couldn’t resist participating just a little longer. Beyond the circle of his embrace was a cold, lonely existence, and she wasn’t ready to go back there just yet.

Fran slid her arms up his chest, reveling in the restrained power there. She pressed closer and heard his quick intake of breath. A small smile curved her lips and he felt it.

“Two can play at this,” he said, his voice hoarse and his breathing ragged. “Like arm wrestling, a sneak attack is the way to achieve one’s objective.”

“And what’s your goal?” she whispered against his lips.

“I’ll show you.”

He nibbled the corner of her mouth, the curve of her
jaw, then the underside, moving steadily toward her neck. When he pressed a kiss there, a lovely little spot just in the hollow beneath her ear, Fran couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure.

“Mission accomplished,” he mumbled.

His mouth continued a delicious assault on her throat and the results turned her insides to liquid honey. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and still she couldn’t seem to draw enough air into her lungs. Certainly it was the altitude in the mountains and the lack of oxygen that was causing her to behave this way. It was crazy. He seemed to have a power over her. Was it love?

Lord, she hoped not. She refused to let it be. It was a no-win situation because he could never love her back. And if he did, she would lose herself.

She pulled back and lowered her arms to his shoulders. “We can’t do this, Alex.”

He blinked and looked at her with a dazed expression. “I thought we were pulling it off rather well.” His own breathing was ragged and fast.

“Way too well,” she agreed, stepping out of the circle of his arms.

Without the warmth of his body surrounding her, cold enveloped her. She shivered, and he tried to pull her back against him.

“No,” she said. “We have to forget this ever happened.”

He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Short of a blow on the head resulting in amnesia, I think that’s an impossible assignment.”

“I mean it. This is a recipe for disaster. We work together. Mixing business with…”

“Pleasure is the word you’re looking for,” he supplied.

“Whatever you want to call it, we’re asking for trouble if we don’t stop. Remember the project? Making the family proud?”

He drew in a shuddering breath. “I fail to see what one has to do with the other.”

“At the risk of beating a dead horse, we’ve already established that you’re not looking for love and neither am I. No matter how civilized we think we are, this can only end badly. What about the project then?”

He didn’t say anything for several moments. He just stared at her with a dark, intense yearning. She thought he would tug her back into his arms. She almost wished he would.

Finally he said, “I suppose you’re right. This isn’t a good idea.”

Fran felt a sharp pain in the region of her heart. She’d been hurt once before by a man who’d cozied up to her for his own career. Now she and Alex had agreed to turn off the heat for the sake of both their careers.

Surely it was for the best? Since when did being right, or doing what was for the best, hurt so much?

“You take the bedroom at the far end of the hall. That was Rosie’s. It’s decorated girly.” He let out a long breath. “I’ll take the one at the top of the stairs.”

That left a whole bedroom between them. Not nearly enough real estate to take the heat off and bring her thermostat down to normal. Fran glanced out the window and saw that the snow was coming down heavier in huge, white, fluffy flakes. Unfortunately, that small amount of square footage would have to do.