Mirelle had no idea what she was taking pictures of.
She held her little digital camera up, click, click, click, flash, flash, flash. Thankfully with digital she wasn’t wasting film; if she ended up deleting half the images, no big deal.
She struggled to breathe, her heart banging against her ribs, her skin hot. Dear lord, that man was potent. She’d almost melted into a puddle at his feet at his touch, at the intensity of his gaze, the seeming sincerity of his words. Geez. She whipped up anger at herself for being so damn weak when it came to him. It was happening all over again.
When she’d caught her breath and managed to settle herself down, she finally returned to where he sat on the floor looking bored. “Okay, I’m done for now. We just need to talk about some things. Maybe we should go back to my office?”
“Sure.” He rose to his feet, towering over her, dusting his hands off. “Or we could go to the restaurant. In fact, let’s do that. We can have something to eat.”
She glanced at her watch. “Oh, my. I didn’t realize how late it is.” She looked back up at him. “You probably have to work.”
“I should be there, but my sous chef is capable of running the kitchen.”
“We could do this Monday.”
He started walking toward the door at the front of the building. Mirelle picked up her bags and the blueprints and trailed after him.
“We could do it tomorrow. I don’t usually work Saturdays, and I sort of have plans, but…”
He paused, tossing the keys in his hand. “Tomorrow?”
“You really don’t have a life, do you?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I do have a life. But I know that you want this done as soon as possible and —”
“I was making a joke,” he said tersely. “And I’m not a slave driver. I don’t expect you to work on this every minute of every day.”
She bit her lip. Great, she’d pissed him off again. “Fine. Let’s do it now. But we probably need a couple of hours.”
He shrugged and held the door open for her. “No problem. As it happens, I don’t have a life either.”
She snorted as she stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. Rush hour traffic clogged the streets and pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks. “Yeah, right.”
“Think what you want of me,” he said, his back to her as he locked the door. “For now. How did you get here?”
“I walked from the office.”
“Okay. I’ll drive. I’m parked around the corner. Give me those.” And he took the big rolled up blueprints from her and tucked them under his arm.
She let him lead the way, her heels tapping as she hurried to keep up with his long-legged stride. Off balance. Yet again, he’d knocked her off balance, made her
feel like she’d hurt his feelings or something, which was ridiculous. Guilt tangled with annoyance and, dammit, desire.
He opened the door to a sporty little red Mazda that was at least several years old. She slid inside as he walked around to the driver’s door.
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m not that much into cars.”
Huh. Most guys she knew were in to cars big time. She thought about Curtis’s expensive BMW. Where she’d left her panties in the glove compartment.
“What’s so funny?” He was looking at her with narrowed eyes.
As if she could tell him about that. “Nothing.”
His mouth tightened again.
“Are you going to sulk through the rest of our meeting?” she demanded, shifting in her seat to face him. He shot her a startled glance.
“Yes. You’re acting like a little boy who didn’t get his own way.”
“I am not!”
He really was cute, his outrage so genuine. She sighed. “Okay. Here’s what I was smiling about. I think I told you I caught my last boyfriend cheating on me with another girl. We broke up. One night I was out with my friend and we spotted his car parked on the street. Actually it was right around the corner from your restaurant. He was probably in there with the new slu…er girlfriend.”
His lips twitched as he drove.
“I realized I still had a set of keys for his car, so I took my panties off and left them in the glove box for the new girlfriend to find.”
She watched expressions flicker across his face—eyes widening, then narrowing, mouth opening, and then he gave a bark of startled laughter.
“You did what! Jesus, Mirelle. Are telling me you stood on the street and took off your…your…”
She grinned. “Nobody saw anything.”
“And then you went home without…”
Er…she might have made a mistake telling him that story. His mind had gone in a completely different direction with it than the vengeance aspect. “Oy,” she said.
“Forget I mentioned that.”
He groaned. “Like that’s going to happen. Christ, how am I supposed to get that image out of my head?”
“See, now, I was thinking more about the look on the girl’s face when she saw another woman’s panties sticking out of the glove box.”
He shook his head, but she at least seemed to have snapped him out of his sulk. “The guy’s an idiot.”
A free-spirited woman…
Eccentric interior designer Mirelle Brasseur is tired of relationships with handsome, charming, fickle men—in other words men just like the father who abandoned her. She’s fun and funky, but takes her career seriously. She’s not about to let a man derail her dreams or wound her heart again.
An ambitious man…
Award winning chef Bradan Hunt is handsome and charming, but he’s always honest with women about his one date-one night rule. Between his best-selling cookbooks, his TV appearances, and his restaurant, he’s too busy for a relationship. He saw what a lack of ambition did to his parents. Bradan wants more. His newest restaurant is going to be the best, so he hires Mirelle to help him design it.
Turn up the heat…
Soon it isn’t just the food sizzling in the kitchen, in spite of Mirelle’s misgivings, as the attraction between the chef and the designer heats up. It will take more than one date-one night for them to overcome their pasts and find a way to cook up a sweet future together.
COMING DECEMBER 29, 2014
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