Sweet Seduction

Yeah, right.

With a deep breath, Daisy straightened her shoulders, folded her napkin and strolled up to Colin’s table, trying to ignore the swarm of bees swirling around in her belly. She was anxious to blurt out her thanks the moment she reached his side but stopped herself when she realized he was still eating with his eyes closed. Actually, eating didn’t accurately describe what he was doing. He seemed to be rolling the food around in his mouth, letting every single one of his taste buds have a go at whatever was there. He was making noises, too, although her cinnamon buns had elicited a good deal more enthusiasm. The memory of Colin sitting at her kitchen counter and grunting over her buns made her skin sizzle.

Quietly she slipped into the chair beside him and waited, breathing in the smell of his cologne. Funny, it was different than the scent he’d worn the other day. This one was nice, but she preferred the other. Then she forgot all about his cologne and her nervousness as she observed the expressions he made—from curious to puzzled to...pained? Wow, he took his job seriously, that was for sure. When Colin blurted something out loud, Daisy could barely contain her laughter. It took a rare individual to sit alone in a crowded restaurant with his eyes closed, muttering away to his heart’s content. People had been committed for less.

“It’s saffron.”

Colin’s eyes flew wide open, looking completely startled by her presence. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“You were wondering what was in the cream sauce and I said saffron.” She grinned.

“How exactly did you know what I was thinking?”

Daisy leaned forward and whispered, “Because you were thinking out loud.”

“I see.”

“You know, all you have to do is read the menu and you’d know what was in there. See?” She slid a menu across the table and pointed to the description of the halibut.

Colin snatched the menu from her and closed it firmly before setting it on the corner of the table farthest from her. “Thank you, but I prefer to let the ingredients speak for themselves. Reading the menu creates bias.”

Taken aback by his tone, Daisy blinked and then smiled. “You know, I do exactly the same thing.”

“Is that right?” He gave an impatient sigh. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get back to work.”

Daisy stared. What was wrong with him? Where was the banter? The sexual innuendo? He was all serious and curt and uptight tonight.

“Is there something else I can do for you?” he asked in a tone that could only be described as haughty.

“I just wanted to thank you,” she said slowly.

“Thank me?”

“For the article. The review.”

“The review?”

“Nana Sin’s?” His blank stare made her blather on. “It was wonderful. The review—I mean, the article. I framed it and put it up in the bakery. You called it ‘sinfully delicious.’” God, how she hated herself. But Colin’s cold tone and demeanor had awoken the insecure child in her. She suddenly felt annoying, inadequate and unattractive.

He blinked once then twice and then slowly—as if he had to make himself do it—smiled. It bore no resemblance to the crooked, wolfish smile he’d worn indiscriminately in her kitchen just a few days ago.

“Ah, yes. Now I remember. Nana Sin’s Bakery.” Colin tapped his pencil against his notepad and then pointed it at her. “Rose, isn’t it?”

“Daisy.”

“Right. Daisy Sinclair.” He nodded while smiling politely. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Bile rose in Daisy’s throat as she realized with horror that she’d been duped. Colin Forsythe had not only forgotten her name but also played her for a fool in the worst possible way. How could he?

“You never meant those things you said, did you?”

“What things?”

“You know, after you saw me naked.” Her lip quivered and she prayed that the anger growing in her belly would sustain her long enough to keep the stupid tears at bay. “The stuff about me being delicious and curvy and perfect. It was all a load of crap, wasn’t it?”

Colin stared at her with his mouth hanging slightly open. It was the same expression he’d worn when he walked in on her. Only this time his eyes didn’t twinkle.

“I suppose asking me out to the gala was all a ruse, too. Well, you know what? I don’t need a pity date. I...” She had to stop talking because her chin was trembling, which meant only one thing. Tears were right behind.

Damn him!

Colin dropped his pencil. “I would never ask you out on a pity date.”

“No? Then what was it?”

“A mistake.”

“A mistake?” Daisy had had enough. If she’d thought Colin catching her in the raw was the worst humiliation she’d suffered, she was wrong. His snub was worse. Much worse.

* * *

JAMIE FORSYTHE PORED over the documents from his latest client. The woman had no idea what she was entitled to in a divorce. She was just eager for it to be over because of her asshole husband. Reading between the lines, Jamie had to wonder why she was in such a hurry to get out. His gut told him there was more going on. Some reason for her to want to up and leave, asking for nothing, just needing out. His mind automatically went to domestic violence.

Shit. These were the worst files, and Jamie hated them. Yet these were also the cases that gave his job meaning: the quicker Jamie could help his client leave an abusive relationship, the better.

His stomach growled, alerting him to the fact that he’d worked through dinner. Again. He put the file aside, stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. He’d grab a slice of pizza on the way to the gym. Jamie couldn’t decide which need was more pressing: his hunger, which would be sated by a couple of slices of thin-crust pepperoni from his favorite pizzeria, or overcoming the restlessness he’d been feeling all week, which an hour with the speed bag before a good sparring match would hopefully alleviate. Not that it’d done the trick yet. This was going to be the fourth night in a row he’d tried.

He grabbed his leather jacket and helmet from the cupboard in his office and was on his way out the door when his cell phone rang.

“What the hell have you done?” Jamie’s brother, Colin, was on the other line. Shouting.

Surprise, surprise.

The fact that Colin was five minutes older than Jamie had always made Colin feel superior.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jamie paused, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”

“I just had the pleasure of meeting Daisy Sinclair.”

A delicious memory of the dark-haired beauty from the bakery came to mind. “She’s mine. Back off.”

“Tell me, at what point in the interview did you manage to get her clothes off?”

The image of Daisy standing in her skimpy underwear, looking like some goddess from a Raphael painting about to throttle a mere mortal to death with a scale, made Jamie bark with laughter.

“One task, Jamie. One tiny, insignificant task. All you had to do was write a couple of paragraphs about a little out-of-the-way bakery. That was it. That’s all I asked.”

“You asked me—no, begged me—to do your job. I did it. Pretty damn well. So stop complaining.”