Sizzle

“Like you did in the competition this afternoon. Doing what you thought was best instead of what I told you.”

He shrugged again. “I have to give my all in the kitchen. Even if that means making other chefs mad.”

“Is that why you are between gigs right now? Do you have a hard time taking orders?” she asked.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and pulled his arm off the back of the seat to his lap. She guessed that she’d asked a question that cut too close to whatever he was hiding from her. Whatever his emotional vulnerable point was. Interesting.

“Perhaps,” he said. “Mostly it’s that I have been praised for my cooking but by those who’ve known me my entire life. I want to know if I’m really good.”

“Why? Did something happen to shake your confidence?” she asked.

“Did something happen to you?” he asked, focusing that intense blue gaze of his on her. “I bet it did. No one goes from Paris to a cupcake bakery without a big event forcing the change.”

“True. I guess we both have our secrets,” she said. “But I will tell you this, I’ve never doubted my ability to put a good dish on the table. I know when I’m done cooking that the person eating my food is going to be blown away.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I think you must be the same,” she said. “Otherwise why would you come here?”

“Why indeed,” he said.

She leaned back against the leather seat and looked out the window again. This time the answers she sought had nothing to do with her, but with him. “You want external praise.”

“Don’t you?” he asked.

“I guess. Really I want a chance to get back what I once had,” she said, speaking from the heart.

As much as the success she’d had with Sweet Dreams validated her as a chef and businesswoman, she wanted to know that she had the chops to go head-to-head with the best cooks in the world. She’d competed years ago to get that original role in the kitchen of a top Parisian chef, and then she’d thrown it away for love. No, that wasn’t right. There hadn’t been love between them, but there had been passion and danger, she thought. It had been very dangerous to give in to her passions.

Yes. That was what had been missing from her life. That was what she was afraid she’d never find again. Her passions for living and for cooking. It was only when she embraced both, that she really did have balance. Yet that was the very thing that frightened her the most.

“You look like you just solved the problems of the world,” he said.

“Nah, just the problems of one woman. It’s funny how you find answers when you didn’t know there was a question,” she said.

“What did you figure out, ma chère?” he asked, lifting his arm against the back of the seat again and touching the side of her face.

No way was she sharing the truth with him, but she knew that if she were going to reclaim her passion in the kitchen she’d have to reclaim it in her life as well. She needed to figure out a way to balance her personal passions with her professional ones and a part of her felt like maybe she could do that with Remy. But another part of her warned that the last time she’d attempted this she’d been burned. Could she survive another dance of passion with a chef?

REMY HAD COME TO COOK but he found most of his time so far had been taken up with thinking about the sexy little woman seated next to him. Her perfume was elusive but tempting, and he found the scent distracting as they worked next to Chef Ramone in the kitchen. Remy shook his head, forcing his attention back to the cutting board in front of him. The executive chef moved off to take care of an emergency on the other side of the kitchen and Staci moved closer to Remy.

“He’s so low-key I almost don’t believe he could prepare these spectacular dishes.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve never met a chef who doesn’t yell,” Remy said. “Certainly never worked with one who didn’t.”

“Me either. Even Alysse and I yell back and forth at the bakery.”

“That’s your partner?” he asked.

“Yes. She’s funny. Usually we’re just telling each other stories from the night before or I’m bossing her around,” Staci said.

“Do you do that a lot?” he asked. He’d finished dicing the vegetables he’d been assigned to work with by the chef. Staci still had half her pile to go. He reached over and took the carrots from her.

She smiled her thanks. “Yes, I do boss her around a lot. But not just her, anyone who needs my advice.”

“Do I need it?”

“I don’t know. A part of me wants to say yes, but I don’t know you well enough. You’re wicked with that knife.”

“Knife skills are one of the best weapons in a chef’s arsenal,” he said.

“Yes, they are, Remy,” Chef Ramone said returning to them.

“You’ve done well with the task I assigned you. Ready to assemble our dish?”

Remy found the same comfort of working in the kitchen with Staci and Chef Ramone as he did working in his own kitchen back home. It was telling he thought that this was home for him even though he was thousands of miles from New Orleans.

And he wasn’t sure he could find his own way. Staci messed with his concentration and that intrigued him. He’d had affairs before, he was too passionate and his sexual drive too high for him not to. But he’d never allowed himself an affair with another chef. It seemed to him that life was best served by keeping his personal and professional lives separate.

Now, he wasn’t sure. He watched her dip her spoon into the sauce she was preparing and stared at her full lips and saw her eyes sparkle. He suppressed a groan. In his mind he moved closer and leaned in to taste the sauce but not from the spoon, from her.

“Want a lick?” she asked.

He snapped back to the present and nodded. He wanted way more than a lick but that would be a good place to start. She held the spoon out to him, but instead of taking it from her hand, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and drew her to him.

He brought their hands up and then he leaned down to run his tongue over the sauce, keeping eye contact with her the entire time. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out again, just as it had before. Her pupils dilated and there was a rosy flush that climbed up her face.

“Delicious,” he said, letting his hand drop and stepping back to his station.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice thready, husky even and he knew that in the game of flirtation, he’d just won the round.

It was at that moment that he knew he wasn’t leaving California without taking Staci Rowland to his bed. He’d thought that she’d distract him from cooking but he was coming to realize that if he didn’t have her, it would be more of a distraction.

She was temptation incarnate and he was from The Big Easy. He’d been raised to indulge his passions in the kitchen and out and even though this would be the first time that he combined the two, he found the anticipation exquisite.

“Remy?” she asked.

He glanced over at her and saw the confusion in her eyes. And for a second he wondered if he’d misjudged her but then she licked her lips again and he smiled. He knew that he hadn’t.

Staci seemed as if she were dealing with some issues in this competition, much like the rest of them. And though tonight it was just the two of them, he knew that whatever knowledge he gleaned about her would be useful for the rest of the weeks ahead.

He closed the gap between them. Put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down as he drew her closer. He brushed his lips over hers and tasted the buttery sweetness of the sauce but also the indescribable taste of Staci. It was unique, mysterious and so addictive he didn’t want to stop kissing her.

Yet he knew he had to. He stepped back and saw her watching him with an unfathomable expression. He’d shocked her. Hell, he’d surprised himself because he’d thought the young impulsive man he’d been was gone forever. But he was glad that he was back.

He thought he needed to be a little impulsive if he was going to find the right path forward for himself and for Gastrophile.

He had an idea of a seasoning to add to the dish and turned away from Staci and returned to his station. Cooking with renewed enthusiasm, when he was done and they both presented their dishes to the chef, he knew he’d prepared something different.