Unmasking Juliet (8 page)

Her gaze flitted to the demitasse cup and back at him. A century’s worth of secrets, betrayals and strife ricocheted between them. “Yes, of course.”

“Liar.” He cupped her cheek in his hand.

There was the barest moment of hesitation in her eyes before she leaned into his touch. “What if I kissed you? Would that make a difference?”

A kiss in exchange for a simple ingredient? It almost seemed like a bargain.

She didn’t wait for an answer but laid her graceful hand on his chest and reached up to brush her lips against his with the barest of touches. It was an innocent kiss. In a way, cautious. But the instant their lips met, Leo was consumed.

There was still no way he was telling her about the
fleur de sel.

He smiled against her lips. “The secret ingredient is...”

She inhaled, and the warmth of her body, the softness of her breasts, pressed into him. Her heart pounded against his.

Stay strong.
“Unicorn tears.”

She laughed, but made no move to back away. “That hot chocolate is so yummy, I almost believe you.”

His hands moved from the countertop to her waist and paused there a second before sliding to the small of her back. She made the tiniest mewing sound, almost like a kitten. Or maybe Leo only imagined it. He was aware of little else but the way the air between them pulsed—with desire now, more than secrets—and the feel of her silky skin sliding against his palms. Somehow his hands had slipped right beneath her wispy thin blouse, but she hadn’t made a move to back away.

She was warm. So warm. Almost hot to the touch. And every bit as delectable as a soufflé fresh from the oven.

He splayed his fingers and pulled her against him. Her heartbeat careened nearly out of control, and Leo went abruptly hard as granite.

“Who says I’m lying?” he whispered, his lips a breath away from the curve of her ear. A shiver coursed through her. Leo felt it all the way to his core.

Her arms wrapped around his neck in a slow, sultry movement. “Unicorns aren’t any more real than the tooth fairy.”

“Or the feud?” His hands slid up to her rib cage, his thumbs scarcely skimming the lacy edge of her bra.

On some barely conscious level, he was aware this might not be the best idea. But he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. And if he didn’t taste her again—really taste her, right now—he was going to lose what was left of his mind.

“What feud?” she murmured.

It was music to his ears.

Then her mouth sought his, and this time there was nothing chaste, nothing careful about her kiss. It was like the vineyard all over again.

Only this time, she tasted like the salty shores of Brittany, the Eiffel Tower, the Place des Vosges under a starry sky. Every place that Leo loved most in the world. And as his tongue slid against hers, he experienced some kind of fundamental shift inside. For the first time since he’d left Paris, he felt as though he’d come home.

Which made no sense at all.

But he wasn’t about to stop and analyze what was happening. In fact, stopping wasn’t anywhere on his radar. The urgent need to take her had rendered him incapable of rational thought. The fact that he was seriously considering making love to Juliet Arabella on the kitchen countertop of Mezzanotte Chocolates seemed wholly reasonable. The best idea in the world. At that moment, he probably would have bedded her right in the front window display. In broad daylight.

Until he thought he heard ducks splashing in a pond. Somehow, between one desperate kiss and the next, the sound managed to reach his ears.

Juliet didn’t seem to notice. She arched toward him and tangled her fingers in his hair. Her mouth opened in the softest of sighs and a fresh, needy wave of lust surged through Leo. So he told himself he was only hearing things. He slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her up clear off the counter. Then he shifted until that soft, supple body of hers was in his lap, pressed fully against him as he rocked into her so she could feel his arousal.

But when the splashing sound grew louder and was suddenly accompanied by the thumping of metal against metal, Leo could no longer ignore it. Still, it took a superhuman effort to remove his mouth from Juliet’s. She whimpered in protest, a breathy sound that nearly killed him, as he reluctantly opened his eyes and peered over her shoulder toward the source of the invasive racket.

And there he saw Juliet’s enormous dog standing on her massive hind legs, paws planted on the edge of the stove, pink tongue flying as she guzzled down every last drop of his
chocolat chaud
straight from the saucepan.

7

Juliet had gone positively boneless. Her limbs felt languid and heavy, every bit as liquid as that extraordinary hot chocolate Leo had made for her. And whatever his secret ingredient might be—she was fairly certain it wasn’t unicorn tears—it must have contained some kind of potent aphrodisiac. Because, oh, God, she was straddling Leo right there on the kitchen counter of Mezzanotte Chocolates, kissing him as if he were her last meal.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was a mistake of the very worst sort. This wasn’t like the vineyard, when she’d had no idea who she’d been canoodling with. This time, she knew precisely who he was.

Leo Mezzanotte, whose grandmother had betrayed her own grandmother’s trust and stolen the family chocolate recipe right out from under her. Leo Mezzanotte, whose father had once gotten into a fistfight with her dad in the middle of the street. Leo Mezzanotte, with his fancy degree from Le Cordon Bleu and his chocolates that looked like works of art, whose sudden reappearance was sure to guarantee her a place in the unemployment line.

Leo Mezzanotte, whose talented fingers were currently unbuttoning her blouse.

Could she have possibly chosen a worse partner for a sexual reawakening? What had gotten into her? She didn’t do this. She didn’t sit on men’s laps on kitchen counters. She didn’t make the kind of breathy noises that were coming from her lips. And she most definitely didn’t have sex in the Mezzanottes’ chocolate shop.

Not that she’d done that last one.

Yet.

But when Leo pressed himself against her, letting her know how much he wanted this, wanted
her,
she knew it was only a matter of time. And right here, right now, she was perfectly fine with that.

Wasn’t this precisely the kind of passion she’d wanted all along?

And then Leo’s mouth abruptly left hers. Juliet felt as though he’d taken the air right out of her lungs. Every cell in her body mourned the loss of that mouth.

“Um, what...?” How pathetic. She couldn’t even form a simple question.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.” Leo scrambled out from underneath her, causing her backside to land on the countertop with a humiliating thud. “This can’t be happening.”

Seriously?

Her feet slid to the floor. Her knees had gone wobbly, so she kept a firm grip on the counter even though she would have loved nothing more than to turn tail and run.

Either that, or wring Leo Mezzanotte’s neck.

It might have been a while since she’d done this sort of thing, but she was fairly certain it was bad form to kiss a woman within an inch of her life and then dump her on her ass. Literally.

“You know, if you’ve changed your mind about this, you could have just said so,” she spat. What was his problem? Did he have a sudden yearning for his mysterious ex-fiancée or something?

His back was to her. Not that she was actually looking at him. She was too mortified to look anywhere but the floor.

“What? Of course I haven’t changed my mind. But, Juliet, we need to get Cocoa to the vet.”

That got her attention. Even faster than being tossed off his lap. Her head snapped upward. “The vet?”

Leo turned around. His hair was mussed, his blue eyes dark and serious, and there was a rather captivating knot in his jaw. “She got into the chocolate while we were...otherwise occupied.”

“What? No.” Juliet shook her head, not wanting to believe what she was hearing. Chocolate was toxic to dogs. Everyone knew that, especially chocolatiers.

He held up an empty saucepan as evidence. Not a trace of
chocolat chaud
remained. Cocoa had licked it clean, not that Juliet could blame her. It was
that
delicious.

She looked at her dog, standing beside Leo with her big tail swinging like a pendulum. Every shaggy hair on Cocoa’s normally cream-colored muzzle was covered in rich dark cocoa.

“I can’t believe this.” Juliet was fanatic about keeping Cocoa away from chocolate. She had to be, seeing as it was an occupational hazard.

And the dog was trained. Hadn’t Juliet taken her to eight weeks of doggy obedience school at that big pet store in Sonoma Valley? She was perfectly behaved, other than the unusual Mezzanotte-induced barking habit. But that was more of a personality quirk than problem behavior. Right?

Counter-surfing had never been an issue before, which meant that the lure of Leo’s special hot chocolate was irresistible even to dogs. Wasn’t that great news? Super. Just super.

She was on the verge of tears all of a sudden. “How did this happen?”

The corner of Leo’s mouth curved into a smirk, and his gaze dropped to her opened blouse. How it had happened wasn’t exactly a mystery.

She looked down at her bra, on full display. Red lace, with tiny satin bows on the straps. It had actually been a gift from her mother, who’d taken the whole Italian belief in wearing red underwear for New Year’s a bit too far and gone for the whole matching set. It looked awfully brazen in the fluorescent light of the kitchen, as if she’d planned this entire encounter.

Damn her cultural heritage.

She wrapped her blouse around her torso, and a hot tear slid down her cheek.

Leo closed the small gap between them and wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “Hey, don’t worry. We’re going to get her to the vet. Everything’s fine.”

She nodded, but she didn’t see how it could be true. Things were far from fine. The first time she’d kissed him, she’d managed to lose the support of Royal Gourmet for Arabella Chocolate Boutique. But apparently that wasn’t bad enough, because she’d gone and kissed him again.

And now her dog was poisoned.

This was all her fault.

“Come on, let’s go.” Leo grabbed her hand and led her to the back door of the shop, flipping off lights as he went.

The two dogs trotted alongside, as though they were all headed to the dog park for a rousing game of Frisbee. It was all happening so fast. Juliet didn’t have time to think long enough to devise any sort of sensible plan. Before she even realized what she was doing, they were all buckled into Leo’s car. A sporty little number. Very racy. Very Leo.

Oh, God, what was she doing in his car? She couldn’t be seen out in public with him.

She reached for the door handle, even as he was pulling out of the parking lot. “Leo, just take me across the street. I can deal with this on my own.”

He shot her an irritated glance. “I’ll do no such thing.”

“Leo, please.” She glanced over her shoulder. Arabella Chocolate Boutique, with her car parked in its drive, was rapidly disappearing into the darkness.

“Juliet, your dog just consumed about ten ounces of bittersweet chocolate. Seventy percent grade. And I had a little something to do with it. What kind of man would I be if I just dropped you off at your car?”

Well. What was she supposed to say to that?
You’re a Mezzanotte. I can only assume you’re evil incarnate.

“I think it’s probably a good thing that she’s so big. That much chocolate would probably kill a tiny dog.” Leo nodded toward Sugar burrowing quietly in his lap.

The little poodle looked even tinier snuggled against him like that. “How on earth did you wind up with a toy poodle? I’m sensing there’s a story there.”

His mouth tilted in a half smile. “Well, since you asked nicely this time, I’ll tell you. I rescued her. She was a stray, nothing but skin and bones and terrified of people. I started leaving a bowl of milk out for her by the back door of La Maison, and after a few weeks she finally let me pet her. She’s come a long way.”

That explained it. But he’d left out a crucial piece of information. “And the girly rhinestone collar?”

His expression darkened. “That was my fiancée’s doing.
Ex-
fiancée.”

A hot spike of...something...hit Juliet right in the solar plexus. She was horrified to realize it felt an awful lot like jealousy.

“So you were engaged?” she asked, trying her best to sound disinterested. And in all likelihood, failing miserably.

“Yes.”

That was it. Just yes. Apparently he wanted to discuss his ex as much as she wanted to talk about George Alcott III. It was no surprise when he abruptly changed the subject. “What kind of dog is Cocoa, anyway? Some kind of wirehaired pointer?”

It was a common mistake. Juliet shook her head. “She’s a Spinone Italiano.”

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her. “That’s quite a mouthful.”

“It’s an Italian breed. I first saw one when I was about thirteen, and I was instantly besotted.” She’d seen the dog at a wine fair. All these years later, she couldn’t remember which one. The Napa Wine & Arts Festival, maybe? The memory of that sweet dog had stuck, and as soon as she’d moved into her condo she’d adopted Cocoa. “They’re such sweet-natured dogs, and I suppose it didn’t hurt that their name reminded me of spumoni. I’ve always called them ice-cream dogs.”

“Spumoni, huh?”

“You know—the Italian ice cream with three layers and bits of cherry inside?” Her favorite dessert. Besides chocolate, naturally.

“I’m familiar.” Of course he was. He’d gone to Le Cordon Bleu. He could probably whip up a batch of spumoni in his sleep. “So, an Italian dog for an Italian girl.”

Her thoughts went at once to her red bra. Ugh. “I guess you could say that.”

He grinned. “My mother would have loved you. She was Italian through and through.”

Right. Cara Mezzanotte was probably spinning in her grave this very instant. “Leo, please. I think you and I both know your mother would have hated me with a passion.”

His grin faded, and the knot in his jaw made a sudden reappearance. Mmm. Quite appealing, in an angry sort of way. Every bit as sexy as she remembered. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip to the emergency vet clinic in Sonoma, unless the sound of Cocoa retching in the backseat counted as conversation. Oddly enough, the prospect of an eighty-pound dog vomiting all over his leather seats didn’t appear to faze Leo in the slightest. He looked cool as a cucumber over there in the driver’s seat, with his charmingly rumpled dark hair and his lean, muscular arms stretched toward the steering wheel.

How did a pastry chef end up with arms like that? It wasn’t natural.

Not that anything about the current state of affairs was natural. She shouldn’t be here with him. She shouldn’t ever have set foot in Mezzanotte Chocolates. And she most definitely shouldn’t have kissed him.

Cocoa gagged again. Juliet turned and rested a comforting hand on her dog’s broad back. She would have given anything to turn back time, to have another chance to just walk away when Leo had invited her inside his shop.

She’d known good and well what she was doing. An investigation? Ha! She’d wanted to see what would happen when they were alone together again, to see if it was possible to recapture the magic of the vineyard.

She certainly had her answer.

“There might be dog vomit all over your backseat,” she said in a quiet voice. Eerily quiet. How could she sound so calm when everything was such a mess? “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. We’re here.” He reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze before maneuvering the car as close as possible to the front door of the emergency pet clinic.

He was being awfully nice about all this. Far nicer than George would have been under similar circumstances. It was sweet.

And very confusing.

She hopped out of the car and coaxed Cocoa from the backseat. The poor thing looked terribly droopy as she climbed down. She peered up at Juliet with her big brown eyes, wagged her tail in slow motion, and Juliet’s heart melted.

And sure enough, there was an ungodly mess all over the back of Leo’s car. Somewhere in the afterlife, Juliet’s grandmother was probably doing victorious cartwheels.

“Thanks for your help. I can get this from here.” She’d allowed him to drive her to the vet. He was free to go. Preferably before someone—anyone—saw them together.

Leo ignored her. But a telltale twitch in that knot in his jaw told her he’d most definitely heard what she’d said.

He scooped Cocoa up in his arms and murmured in the dog’s chocolate-covered ear as he headed for the door. “Poor girl. Not feeling so good now, are you?”

Juliet sighed.

Again with the niceness. He looked downright heroic, cradling her dog like that. Just like the type of guy who would save a pitiful stray off the streets of Paris. A lump lodged in Juliet’s throat as she followed him inside.

They explained to the receptionist what had happened, and a vet tech in blue scrubs came for Cocoa at once. She thought the vet tech seemed surprised to see the two of them together. And was the receptionist looking at them funny?

Get a grip on yourself.

She was already a dog poisoner. And now she was becoming paranoid. Leo had only been in town for a week, after all. She didn’t even want to contemplate what she’d do next.

“So she got into some chocolate?” the vet tech asked, his gaze swiveling back and forth between the two of them.

“Yes, close to ten ounces.” Leo nodded solemnly. “Baking chocolate.”

The man in the scrubs winced. “Ouch. That’s the worst kind for a dog to ingest. You did the right thing bringing her in right away. We can administer some activated charcoal and get all the chocolate out of her system before it’s absorbed.”

Juliet nodded mutely. Activated charcoal. That sounded horrid.

“She should be okay. With any luck, the two of you can take her home in twenty-four hours or so.”

“Oh, we’re not...” Juliet glanced at Leo. He gave her a steamy look. She tried not to notice how his biceps were bulging under the dead weight of Cocoa’s limp form. “I mean, we’re just...”

Archenemies.

The vet tech lifted Cocoa from Leo’s arms and headed toward the back of the clinic muttering something that sounded an awful lot like
whatever
.

Paranoia. Definitely.

“Okay, then.” Juliet released a nervous breath. Maybe she should just stop talking altogether.

“I should probably get the car cleaned up and check on Sugar.” Leo waved toward the door.