The Baker's Touch

The Baker’s Touch

W. Lynn Chantale

Copyright © February 2013, W. Lynn Chantale

Cover art by For The Muses Designs © February 2013

ISBN: 978-1-939151-16-2

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Sugar and Spice Press

North Carolina, USA

www.sugarnspicepress.com

Chapter One

“...demolished. There are some stubborn owners in that part of the city.” Penelope paused at the snippet of conversation and strained her ears to hear more.

“It’s a high traffic part of town. What did you expect, they would just say yes to your proposal?” This was said with disdain. “They’re old farts who don’t know when to sell.”

“They’re family-owned businesses that have been there forever. They’ll soon see the error of refusing.”

At the hard tug on her bicep, she stumbled forward as she was pulled along, the rest of the conversation lost in the laughter swirling around the room. Music mingled with easy chatter and she could just make out the rhythmic stride of dancing. Sam, her date and companion for the last four months, would rather hold idle conversations than ask her to the dance floor.

At his abrupt stop, she bumped into her companion’s shoulder, the soft wool of his suit brushed her nose. Penelope sniffed. A familiar blend, sweet like jasmine and nutmeg tickled her nostrils. She frowned, leaning closer to the man whose arm she held. The scent blended with the spiciness of his aftershave, along with a tang of something...more earthy.

“Did you need something?”

“No, Sam,” Penelope said as she shifted beside him.

“All right.” None too gently, he shook off her hand and turned away. “Bill, did you happen to get the proposal I sent over? I tell you, there is major money to be made in this endeavor.”

From the direction of his voice, he had his back to her and was gradually moving away. She huffed and patted her evening bag to make sure her cane was still inside. He had a habit of removing it when they were together and she wanted to make sure he hadn’t done the same tonight.

Although if he had, she was familiar with the ballroom and there were enough volunteers to assist her if need be. Tonight’s gala, while sponsored by several large companies, one of which Sam worked for, the proceeds were going to benefit The Commission for the Blind. A nonprofit organization that helped visually impaired individuals get the education and skills needed to live a full and productive life. And it was near and dear to her heart. The agency had helped her retain her independence.

Retinitis pigmentosa, a degenerative eye disease that attacked the retina and robbed her completely of her sight by the time she was fifteen, would forever be a factor in her life. Part of her was relieved she no longer lived in that limbo of seeing some things while completely missing others, but then she had to deal with people like Sam. A man who was supposed to like her for who she was, but lately he’d left her feeling cold and alone. She often wondered if she’d ever find true love.

All week Sam had grumbled about escorting her to the event, but a few days ago he’d switched his tune. Even going the extra mile to hire a limo for the evening. Some instinct warned her that the sudden change of heart had nothing to do with her. So why did he really want to be here tonight?

She tilted her head, listening for Sam’s braying tenor. He was still droning on about business or whatnot.

“You look quite amazing this evening,” sin and smoke purred near her left shoulder.

She pivoted in that direction, not quite catching the voice. “Thank you.”

Warm fingers trailed down her bare arm and gripped her hand. She felt the sizzle through every nerve in her body. It wasn’t just his touch, but also his nearness. She was used to people being close, but his nearness was unnerving. Almost possessive. Each time she exhaled her breasts touched his jacket.

“Would you care to dance?”

He was so close his lips grazed the delicate shell of her ear, sending tingles down her spine and straight to her nipples. A smile creased her lips. She still didn’t recognize the speaker. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“In time you will.”

Penelope tilted her head. The dulcet tones were scintillating, but between his low volume and the loud background noise of the room, she still couldn’t identify him. “I’m blind. Your voice sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”

“I know. It’s all good. I’ve been admiring you from across the room and I noticed your date seems to have deserted you for the moment.”

She bit her lip, not quite sure how to process this information. “He found one of his buddies to discuss business.”

“His loss. If I had such a beautiful woman as my date, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight for anything.”

Pleasure stole through her at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.”

He tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and they moved forward. “Your dress is stunning.”

Heat crept into her cheeks, delighted that her mystery man had noticed, while her date had not. Though her mother had described it to her in great detail on the phone, Penelope could only imagine the sequins and rhinestones dripping from the halter-style evening gown. Sam hadn’t even complimented her on her attire. If anything, he’d told her, her lipstick was smeared.

Her heels clicked over a wooden surface. Vibrations traveled from the floor through the soles of her shoes and into the rest of her body. Her companion paused long enough to sweep her into his arms.

She stiffened. It shouldn’t matter that she didn’t know this stranger. All he wanted was a dance, nothing more, but being in his embrace, even for this dance, stirred desire in her veins.

“Something wrong?”

“N-no.”

He splayed his fingers against her back and swayed to the music. “Relax. Just one dance.”

Relax. That was easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one feeling a bit turned on at the moment. She slowly exhaled and allowed the tension to seep from her limbs. He drew her closer, not too much, but enough that she felt his body heat and the soft scrape of his suit jacket against her skin.

She wanted to press closer; dancing with this man seemed the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t like dancing with Sam where she always had to stay alert for shuffling feet. This man kept her close and led her around the floor as if they had danced together their entire lives.

“You’re very graceful,” he murmured. He held her a little tighter as a breeze ruffled her hair. Another couple brushed by them.

“I feel safe with you,” she blurted. She clamped her lips shut. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but it was the truth. No one had been able to put her at ease in so short a time. Relying on her fellow man was a daily thing, especially when she misstepped or walked into the wrong store, but this man had an air about him that put her at ease, even if he didn’t want to give his name.

“Who taught you how to dance?” He maneuvered her around the floor. Music and the murmur of voices grew quieter. They must be farther from the dancers and speakers.

“My father. He was a dance champion for many years, which is how he met my mom, but she never danced professionally. Anyway, my father taught me as a way of helping me trust my instincts as well as my partner.”

“He did an excellent job.”

She inclined her head, her hair sliding over one shoulder. “Who taught you how to dance?”

“An after school program when I was a teen and it just stuck.” His hand slid a little lower on her back. “I’m really glad I kept with it.”

“I am too.”

Left turn. His thigh brushed hers and his hand slipped to the curve of her hip. Three short steps and a right turn. She held her breath when his fingers grazed the swell of her derriere then returned to her hip. The contact was brief, but enough to jumpstart her libido. Lust dampened her panties and tightened her nipples. All from a simple waltz around the floor?

She had Sam in her life, but he never made her blood heat and she never really felt safe in his arms either. She stopped dancing.

“Is something the matter?”

“I-I think I should go powder my nose.”

His throaty chuckle reached her ears. “Sure thing.” He threaded her hand through the crook of his arm. “Looks like a lot more people have arrived since we’ve been on the dance floor. Stick close.”

She nodded and swallowed. Sam would never have told her anything like that. He’d have just dragged her through the crowd with no warning. Maybe it was time to let him go.

Her best friends, Moira and Violet, would be thrilled if she kicked Sam to the curb. They never liked him. They obviously saw something in him that she wasn’t aware of… well, more like in denial about, until now. Maybe it was time to make a clean break.

She stumbled into her nameless dance partner when someone jostled her from behind. He curved an arm around her shoulder to steady her.

“Are you okay?”

She chuckled. “Yeah.”

“We’re almost to a clear spot and then you can use your cane.”

“You’re not freaked out about me using a mobility device?” She tried to keep the defensive note from her voice and failed.

“Are you kidding? That thing is like Moses’ staff. It can part a crowd of people at two paces.” Humor filled his statement. “You can use that thing as often as you like.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. How much had she changed to garner Sam’s approval? And when had it mattered that she fit in to his perfect world? After tonight, no more. If he couldn’t accept her for who she was, then he didn’t deserve to be in her life.

Their footsteps were muffled on the thick commercial carpeting and then clicked across linoleum. She pulled a small scope-like item from her purse. A flick of her wrist and it flared into a cane. The quiet snap assured her it had locked into place.

“I see you have a new cane.”

“This one fits in my purse.” How long had this man been watching her?

He lifted her hand and placed it on a smooth surface. “I’ll wait here and then take you back to your date for the evening.”

She nodded and pushed open the door. If memory served correct, the sinks were to her left and the bathroom stalls were five steps to her right and around another corner. She turned left. Between the cane and trailing her fingers along the slightly rough wall she found an open sink. All she needed was a moment to compose herself. Briefly she wondered if her friends arranged for her mystery man and if they had, she wasn’t sure if she should thank them or yell at them. Either way, she got the impression that this was someone she knew.

A smile curved her lips. She liked the idea of not knowing who he was, but she wished he’d at least give her his name.

The door swooshed open behind her and giggling echoed off the walls. Penelope slid her hands along the cool metal surface until water sluiced into the bowl. Ah, motion sensors. She smiled. Even better. She quickly washed and dried her hands.

At the sweet floral scent she snapped up her head. It was a very distinctive perfume, one that had been following her all night. A couple of doors slammed shut followed by lock clicks.

“So you two actually had sex in one of the offices?”

“It was amazing,” the other woman said, a hint of regret shadowed her somewhat cultured voice. “I feel bad though. His girlfriend is here tonight and she has no idea what’s been going on.”

“You mean you’re the other woman?” Awe and a bit of mirth filled the companion’s voice.

“He says the relationship is flat and, well, he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings because she’s blind.”

 Penelope sucked in a gasp while her heart pounded. Of all the things... She blinked away the tears burning her eyes. She would not cry over that man. Smoothing a hand down the front of her dress, she carefully made her way toward the door. If she hadn’t made up her mind before, she was certain now. She and Sam would be no more.

“Have you met the girlfriend?”

Penelope strained to hear the answer even as she trailed her fingers along the wall.

“No, but I’ve seen her around. She can even dance.” Was that envy she heard? “Anyway, she’s got this mane of gorgeous red hair and a dress I’d kill to have.”

Swallowing hard, Penelope yanked open the door, misjudged the distance and smacked her head on the edge.

A hand clamped over her wrist and pulled her into the hall. “Are you okay?” Gentle hands cradled her face, brushing her hair aside.

“Just peachy.” She tried to squirm away from his inspection, but he held her still. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“You’re not bleeding, but there’s a nice little knot forming. You should really get some ice on it.” He smoothed her hair back in place. “What was your hurry?”

She turned away. “I needed to get out of there.”

He caressed her cheek. “I can see you, Penelope. You have tears on your lashes and you’re not smiling anymore.” Heat from his body enveloped her as he moved closer. “What happened?”