The Chef's Choice by Kristin Hardy Page A

real interest in her, she had no plans to give him any opportunities. She checked her watch and got out of the truck with the box of greens. Best to drop off the ramps and get to work.
    Her steps faltered a bit when she discovered the back door to the kitchen unlocked and the lights on. For an instant, she debated just leaving the box outside the back door. She hadn’t spent a backbreaking hour picking them only to see someone walk all over them by accident, though. Besides, she was many things but she wasn’t a wimp. She’d go inside just as she’d planned.
    It was probably only Roman there, anyway. It wasn’t like Mr. Celebrity Chef was going to be up at the crack of dawn doing prep. And even if it were him, it wasn’t a problem, she told herself quickly. She’d been caught off guard at the market, that was all. This time, she was prepared for any games he might play. Everything would be fine.
    And if she held her breath when she walked through the passageway into the kitchen and put the box on one of the stainless steel counters, it was nobody’s business but her own. She’d fulfilled her obligation. All she had to do was—
    â€œStop.” Damon’s voice sounded in her ear. Adrenaline flooded through her. Every muscle in her body tensed. She moved to turn.
    â€œNo. Close your eyes,” he ordered.
    Cady bristled. “Who do you think—”
    â€œJust do it.”
    And she found herself obeying, as much out of surprise as anything. Her heart thudded in her chest. He was right in front of her; she could feel him, sense the heat from his body.
    Feel his breath feathering across her face.
    â€œOpen your mouth.”
    Pulse jittery, she did.
    â€œTell me what you think of this,” he murmured. His fingers were hard and warm against her lips and cheek. The contact sent shock rippling through her, all of her nerve endings coming to the alert. Then she stilled because he slipped a tidbit of something that smelled incredible into her mouth.
    And tasted even better.
    She bit down and exquisite flavor burst through her mouth. Crisp, soft, rich, savory, it was a glorious blend of taste and texture that bombarded all of her senses, occupied every taste bud. She wanted to savor, she wanted to swallow. She wanted more. She couldn’t prevent a humming moan of pleasure.
    â€œI take it that means you approve?”
    The words dragged her back to the moment. Her eyes flew open to see Damon standing there, staring at her, intent. Something skittered around in her stomach. He watched her unwaveringly, but he didn’t watch her with the gaze of a chef interested in his creations.
    He watched her with the eyes of a man who’d just pleasured a woman, not with taste but with touch.
    The breath backed up in her lungs. He was close, way too close in his checked trousers and whites, the apron tied around his lean hips. She swore she felt the air heat around them.
    It was just the line of stoves across the room, that was all, Cady told herself unsteadily. The place was always hot. That was why he had his sleeves rolled up. Her bad luck that years of demanding kitchen work had left him with the kind of powerful, sinewy forearms that made her more aware than ever of the strength and purpose driving that rangy body.
    â€œWas it good?” he asked.
    â€œGood?” she echoed blankly.
    â€œThe food. Did you like it?”
    â€œOh.” By sheer force of will she dragged herself out of the sensory overload and stepped away for her own sanity. “Good, yeah, good doesn’t begin to cover it. What was that?”
    â€œJudging by the way you looked just now, something that belongs on the menu. It’s an appetizer,” he elaborated. “A croustillant . Squab, fois gras, morel emulsion in brek dough.”
    â€œYou’re talking to someone who eats pizza and macaroni and cheese. Translate.”
    â€œAh. Pigeon, duck liver and mushroom sauce in