Unmasking Juliet (18 page)

“What are you doing?” she asked through lightly clenched teeth.

“I’m talking to you. Surely there’s no law against that.” He concentrated very hard to keep his expression neutral. “Would it really be out of the ordinary for us to exchange pleasantries?”

She looked at him. Finally. “You know it would.”

“Don’t pay any attention to them.” He gave a slight nod in the direction of their families. “I’m not.”

It was almost the truth.

“That’s not going to work, Leo. It’s not just you and me this time. It’s everyone. My whole family is here. And yours.” Her gaze flitted to the barrel room’s big double doors, and she stiffened. “And apparently, so is your new business associate.”

“What?” He took his eyes off her long enough to see George Alcott III saunter in and shake hands with Uncle Joe.

He took the seat beside Uncle Joe as if the two of them were long-lost friends. Then he removed a large manila envelope from his slim leather briefcase and offered it to Uncle Joe.

The contract between Mezzanotte Chocolates and Royal Gourmet Distributors. Leo didn’t need x-ray vision to know that’s what was inside. His gut tightened. He’d known he couldn’t put this moment off forever, but he hadn’t anticipated having to deal with it here in the middle of the chocolate fair.

“Look, about that proposed business arrangement...” he began.

“Yes?” The expression on Juliet’s face was half wary, half hopeful.

“I...”

Before he could utter another syllable, someone rapped on a wineglass with a piece of cutlery and the room grew quiet.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Napa Valley Chocolate Fair.” The announcer waved a sweeping arm toward the banquet table. “Today’s contestants are competing for the title of Napa Valley Chocolate Fair Grand Champion, and they represent the very best culinary talent that the bay area and accompanying wine country have to offer.”

Leo took another look around at the other competitors. All appeared to be professional chefs. But unlike him and Juliet, none were specialty artisan chocolatiers. Mezzanotte Chocolates and Arabella Chocolate Boutique were the only such shops in the area. This competition was theirs to lose.

Well, one of theirs.

The announcer continued. “I’d like the esteemed judges to step forward, please.”

Even after the judges were introduced, Leo still had no idea who they were. To say he was having trouble focusing was an understatement. The envelope in George’s lap and the accompanying battle he was sure to have with Uncle Joe over its contents...Marco and the daggers he was staring at Juliet...all those angry Arabella faces watching his every move. He was being bombarded on all sides. A simmering discomfort started low at the back of his head as the judges moved from one competitor to the next, examining the entries.

When they reached him, he explained the flavors of each macaron and presented them with a tasting plate.

“Very nice.” One of the judges—Leo really should have paid attention to who these people were—smiled and nodded.

The other two looked equally pleased, so he figured he was in excellent standing. Next up was Juliet.

Leo stood back, crossed his arms and pasted on an expression of unwavering confidence, all the while straining to hear her describe her creations.

“Good morning, Ms. Baker, Mr. Collins and Mr. Weatherton,” she said, her voice smooth and professional.

Leo suppressed a smile of approval. Addressing the judges by name. Nice move.

“In keeping with the spirit of the wine country, today I offer you a chocolate wine flight, showcasing two each of red, white and sparkling wine varieties.”

The judges looked as though they were hanging on her every word. Leo couldn’t really blame them.

She picked up one of the red wine balloon glasses. “Here we have a heart-shaped pinot noir truffle with a sweet cream cocoa center that’s been injected with a shot of raspberry cordial.”

Red wine and cordial. That was a lot of liquor in one little nibble. Leo wished he could toss back an entire handful. It might make dealing with their families a bit more palatable.

The judges all took a bite. Then one by one, each of them polished off their remaining pieces of chocolate. This was atypical. Leo hadn’t noticed them eating entire samples on any of their other stops. Not even his.

“The second red wine inspired offering on our flight is a chocolate red wine cupcake truffle, with a merlot cake batter center covered in a milk chocolate shell that’s been rolled in cupcake crumbs. And for our first white wine chocolate, we have a classic white wine spritzer truffle with a delicate center of white chocolate ganache blended with pinot grigio and lemon-flavored Italian soda.” She briefly allowed her gaze to wander in his direction.

Italian soda. He grinned and thought of all the photos of Rome in her condo.

“Next is a sweet Riesling gingerbread truffle, which is dark chocolate on the outside with an inside of spicy gingerbread milk chocolate ganache and a dash of sweet Riesling infused throughout.”

Leo had to stop his eyebrows from creeping up his forehead. These flavor combinations were quite inspired. Red wine, chocolate and cake batter? Sweet Riesling with gingerbread? He wasn’t sure he would have thought of either of those.

She finished by introducing her champagne duo, which she christened the Bellini—a peach puree truffle blended with a ganache of white chocolate and extra-dry Prosecco—and the Rossini—a decadent sounding confection of crushed strawberries with the seeds removed, blended with heavy cream, milk chocolate and a sparkling pink rosé.

“Very creative, Miss Arabella,” the more portly of the two male judges said. Mr. Weatherton. Or was it Mr. Collins?

Damn. He’d never suffered from this kind of lack of concentration before. Whoever the man was, he’d eaten a full meal’s worth of Juliet’s truffles, as had the other judges.

“Thank you.” Juliet smiled, and it seemed as if her entire being released a relieved exhale.

She was nervous. She really shouldn’t have been.

The judges moved on to the next entrant, and she folded her hands in front of her just beneath the edge of the banquet table.

Thanks to the close quarters, Leo only had to shift a fraction to his left to be within reaching distance of her. Slowly, discreetly, he uncrossed his arms and dropped his hands to his sides. Then he reached under the table and took one of her hands in his.

He gave it a gentle squeeze and whispered under his breath, “Nice job. Good luck.”

The secret smile that came to her lips was enough to cause a surge of victory to swell within him. For a fleeting moment, he felt as though he’d won a most precious prize.

No matter the outcome.

16

The warmth of Leo’s hand calmed Juliet, creating a perfect moment of surreptitious stillness amid the pressure of the chocolate fair. The penetrating gazes of her family members and the scoffs of the Mezzanottes seemed to fade into the background. She wondered at the power of his touch to change everything in an instant. Then she wondered what it said about her that she seemed unable to let go of his hand.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for attending the Twenty-Sixth Annual Napa Valley Chocolate Fair. As you know, this event is part of the World Cup of Artisan Chocolate Competitions. As such, the winner qualifies for the prestigious
Roma Festa del Cioccolato,
to be held next month in Rome, Italy.” The announcer paused while the audience applauded.

Juliet couldn’t help but look at George sitting there in the front row alongside the Mezzanottes. George, who had failed to see the point of her traveling to Italy for the chocolate competition when she’d qualified last year and had refused to allow Royal Gourmet to foot the bill for her trip.

And she decided right then and there that she was going this time. She’d pay for it all on her own if she had to. She’d put it on her credit cards if need be. She was going to Rome.

If
she won.

“The contest this year was more competitive than ever before. We congratulate all the entrants on their imaginative use of chocolate and impressive culinary skills.” The announcer accepted a sealed envelope from Mr. Weatherton, the head judge.

Juliet’s stomach took a tumble. Leo squeezed her hand again, and she held on for dear life. Why did it feel as though they were in this together when they so clearly weren’t?

The sound of the envelope’s seal being broken echoed through the barrel room. Everyone’s attention was focused on that small white square.

The announcer took a look inside, his face a perfect mask of calm. He cleared his throat.

Good grief, would he just get on with it?

“The contest results are rather surprising this year,” he said. The quiet grew so tense that it was oppressive.

Juliet’s senses became unnaturally heightened. Every inhale sounded like a tidal wave, her heartbeat a sonic boom. The perfume of the hydrangeas suddenly seemed too heady, too sweet. Her insides twisted into a tight knot. The room swirled around her in slow motion.

She let go of Leo’s hand. The slide of his fingers slipping through hers seemed to last both a lifetime and an instant.

The contest results are rather surprising this year.

That meant she’d lost. What else could it mean? She’d won every year for the past five straight years. Winning again wouldn’t be a surprise.

She’d lost.

Surprise!

Her eyes drifted closed. She couldn’t bear to look at her family. It was over. They weren’t going to bounce back from a defeat like this. She’d turned George down, gotten them dropped by Royal Gourmet, botched the balloon fest last weekend and lost the Napa Valley Chocolate Fair title.

Oh, and she’d managed to poison her dog and sleep with the enemy in the process.

How had her life spiraled so out of control?

This is what you wanted, remember? To be free of control
.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

The announcer was smiling as wide as a circus clown. “Ladies and gentleman, I’m afraid the contest isn’t quite over. For the first time in the history of the Napa Valley Chocolate Fair, we have a tie.”

She swayed on her feet. “What?”

“It’s a tie?” Leo said beside her, his voice carrying a trace of bewilderment.

“The judges have awarded Juliet Arabella and Leonardo Mezzanotte identical scores.”

Juliet’s mother and Leo’s uncle rose from their chairs at the exact same time, like a well-synchronized team. Scary.

“What?” Juliet’s mom cried.

“A tie? That’s absurd.” Joe Mezzanotte’s face was redder than Juliet had ever seen it before.

“Uncle Joe, sit down. Immediately. Or I will walk right out of here.” Leo stood a little straighter, as if indicating he would indeed make good on his threat.

His uncle blanched and then lowered himself back into his chair.

“Mom,” Juliet pleaded. “Please.”

Likewise, her mother sat.

“Very well, then.” The announcer paused, possibly to make sure no one else was going to leap up and make a spectacle of themselves. Probably a good move, since there were still a half-dozen Arabellas and Mezzanottes who hadn’t yet said their piece. And George. “In order to determine a winner, we will move on to another phase in the competition. Miss Arabella and Mr. Mezzanotte, please remain where you are. The other competitors are excused.”

As the other chefs backed away from the banquet table and filed out, Leo leaned a fraction closer. The amused quirk in his lips caused pleasure to pool deep in her belly. “A tie. How’s this for a turn of events?”

Staring into his startlingly blue eyes, she blew out a breath.
Focus.
“It’s not a loss, so I’ll take it.”

“Still plan on taking me down in the next round?” His gaze dropped to her cleavage. Right on cue, she grew breathless.

Her body remembered him. Her skin, her pores, the little hairs on the back of her neck. And she leaned toward him, succumbing to his pull without even realizing it. “Absolutely.”

He laughed under his breath and lifted his eyes back to her face. There was something different about the way he looked at her now, since the night they’d shared. A look filled with possession and secrets.

Juliet liked it. She liked it very much. Despite herself, she smiled back at him. Right there, with the whole room watching. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. I’m dead serious.”

He brushed his hand against hers. Just the slightest touch. He had to stop touching her. She opened her mouth to tell him as much, but the words refused to come.

“I know,” he whispered. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”

* * *

A tie.

Leo hadn’t seen that one coming. Not at all.

He’d thought he’d won. Juliet had thought he’d won, too, if the ashen hue she’d taken on when the announcer expressed his surprise at the results had been any indication. But he hadn’t won. And Juliet was looking far less stricken now. Her color had come back. There was a rosy hue to her cheeks that made him think of things that weren’t remotely connected to chocolate.

He dragged his eyes away from her. Time to regroup. Refocus. He still had every intention of winning. He needed to win. More so now than before. And apparently that was going to be a more complicated task than he’d originally thought.

A tie.

He looked at his macaron trees. All that time. All that effort. Now what?

“Henceforth, the competition will move to a tie-breaker phase.” The crowd, which had begun to buzz in earnest after the announcement of the identical scores, settled down. No doubt everyone wanted to know what was involved in breaking the tie. Leo certainly did. In all his years in chocolate, he’d never witnessed this type of situation. “The tie will be broken and the winner determined with a taste challenge.”

Beside him, Juliet grinned as if she’d just won the lottery.

In a way, she had. In a taste challenge the participants were given a finished creation and expected to duplicate it purely by instinct. The only tools at their disposal were the variety of ingredients presented and the judgment of their respective palates.

Which just so happened to be what Juliet had been doing for days on end with respect to his
chocolat chaud.

He shook his head. Marvelous.

One of the judges took over the microphone. “Hello, everyone. My name Dan Weatherton, and I’m happy to present our two finalists with the tie-breaking taste challenge.”

The other two judges wheeled a cart toward Leo and Juliet. It was piled high with every fruit, dairy product and variety of chocolate imaginable. And at the very front sat a platter of truffles. The mystery item, he presumed.

He glanced at Juliet. She looked at him, at the truffles and then back at him.

“You are
so
going down,” she mouthed.

God, those lips.

A wave of arousal shot through him. Why he was in any way turned on by her dogged determination to bring him to his knees in defeat was a mystery he’d given up trying to figure out. Whatever the reason, he found it undeniably hot.

He averted his gaze and murmured, “Not if I can help it.”

“The contestants will have five minutes to taste the challenge item and peruse the selection of ingredients.” Weatherton eyeballed the two of them. “Then they’ll move to the vineyard kitchen, where they will have a total of ninety minutes to duplicate the item that’s been presented.”

Ninety minutes.

That wasn’t enough time to make a proper truffle even under normal circumstances. Truffles needed a good two hours in the refrigerator to cool. And that didn’t even include the preparation time. He’d have to work at warp speed, then put them in the freezer and pray that they hardened to a respectable consistency.

And of course, that was after he figured out what the hell he was even making.

“Good luck, Leo!” his sister called out.

“He doesn’t need luck. Leo will win. Mark my words,” Uncle Joe said in a voice far louder than necessary.

Unsurprisingly, Juliet’s mother felt prompted to join in the fray. “You may as well go home. Your nephew doesn’t have a chance.”

“Here we go.” Juliet aimed her eyes at the floor, as if waiting for it to open up and swallow her whole.

They were like children. Worse than children. He’d seen better behaved two-year-olds.

“If the crowd will settle down, the five-minute time period will begin for the competitors to taste the challenge item.” Weatherton aimed a pointed glare at the Mezzanotte-Arabella jeering section. “Ready, set, begin.”

Leo and Juliet approached the cart and reached for the truffles at the same time, their fingertips colliding.

He took a step back. “Ladies first, Miss Arabella.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mezzanotte,” she said primly.

Juliet bit right into hers, but Leo took a few minutes to examine his first. He turned it this way and that, inspecting the outer shell for clues. A ribbon of white chocolate ran across the top, but the rest of the shell was obviously a dark chocolate blend. Exactly how dark remained to be seen.

He took a whiff. It had a far sweeter aroma than he expected, given the dark shell. He went ahead and took a bite.

It exploded on his tongue in an intense mixture of sweetness, creaminess and some sort of earthy flavor he couldn’t immediately identify. He frowned and popped the rest in his mouth.

Beside him, Juliet was humming happily and already choosing a few of the offered ingredients. And she’d only eaten one of the truffles. Other than the obvious—white chocolate, dark chocolate and cream—Leo wasn’t at all sure what to select. Some sort of fruit. Definitely. Berries, most likely.

His head began to throb, most of the pain concentrated in the area behind his left eye socket. Great. Just what he needed. Another headache.

He ate a second chocolate, then a third and tried not to take notice of which ingredients Juliet was gathering and piling into one of the small wire baskets they’d been given for such purpose. He didn’t want his instincts to be in any way influenced by hers. But he couldn’t help noticing that she still hadn’t taken any of the fruits on offer.

Big mistake.

He definitely tasted berries. He grabbed a pint of strawberries and added them to his basket. Then he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment because the pain behind his left eye had grown markedly more intense. Like someone was inside his head stabbing him with an ice pick.

“Are you okay, Leo?” Juliet’s voice came to him, and he realized she must truly be concerned about him if she was calling him Leo in front of the whole world.

But it was just a little headache. Nothing to worry about.

He opened his eyes. Spots of bright light floated around Juliet’s lovely face. “I’m fine, Miss Arabella. Just fine. And quite ready to beat the pants off of you.”

Her cheeks colored—at his wording, he presumed. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

* * *

Before Juliet began to heat the heavy cream for her ganache, she dropped four tea bags in a small saucepan of water and placed it on the stove to boil. That sweet taste that had almost tricked her into selecting berries as an ingredient was, in fact, fruit tea. She was sure of it.

She’d made fruit tea cupcakes once after seeing them on
Cupcake Wars,
and the flavor had been nearly the same—intensely rich and fruity, but absent any denseness that would have resulted from using the actual fruit. And there was that undefined hint of herbs from the tea, very slight but nonetheless present. Only the barest suggestion of a vineyard, or perhaps a mossy forest floor.

Her plan was to let the tea bags steep in about a half cup of water and then squeeze every drop of flavor from them that she could manage. She hoped to end up with a good syrupy mixture that she could whisk right into the ganache.

She fired up the burner and glanced over at Leo. He was eating another truffle while staring at his collection of ingredients.

“Stumped?” she asked, pouring the cream into a separate saucepan for her ganache.

He picked up a handful of strawberries and laid them out on a cutting board. “Hardly.”

“You sure?” She focused on his face, not trusting herself to look at those woeful strawberries without giving away the fact that she knew he was making a mistake.

“Quite sure.” He winked at her, then aimed a slight frown in the direction of the contest proctor who’d accompanied them to the kitchen.

Juliet wasn’t certain how she felt about the fact that they had a chaperone. She’d been disappointed at first, thinking that it would be fun to cook with Leo again. Just the two of them. Upon reassessment, she realized it would have been a dangerous proposition. She couldn’t afford to get distracted at this point. And Leo was nothing if not a distraction.