2
Chapter 2
Etienne cringed as Anvita made her announcement. How on earth was he supposed to maintain a proper boss-employee relationship with Bianca now? He’d seen the line of sexual attraction crossed too many times in hospitality and he refused to take advantage of his position as boss. But he knew exactly what the TV producer had seen—his unrequited lust for Bianca and her smart mouth. Bianca had pretended not to understand Anvita’s comment about the chemistry between them, but it was obvious to him. Bianca was pretty, in a wholesome, dirt covered, outdoorsy kind of way, and she shared his passion for great, fresh food. He shouldn’t feel this desperate attraction to her, but every time they argued, she transformed from mildly pretty to stunningly beautiful. The way her gaze focused on him, flashing with irritation, and her smarmy comments aroused him beyond logic. She often disagreed with him on his recipes, and as much as he hated to admit it, he valued her input because she understood the Australian palate much better than him. With so many people of Asian descent living in Australia, people were accustomed to eating fusion cuisine. He knew he was being single-minded in attempting to recreate the best of French cooking while using the wonderful produce the fabled Margaret River region produced. But French cuisine was what he was good at, and what he enjoyed eating. The flavours reminded him of his childhood home on the Mediterranean coast near Perpignon. The purity of herbaceous flavours made into silken sauces with the addition of high-cream butters. Fresh seafood. After his parents had died in a car crash, he couldn’t face living in Perpignon, but he couldn’t abandon his cuisine either. It was all he had left of them. He’d spent a decade travelling and cooking until he found a place with the same feel as home. The town of Cowaramup fit the bill, semi-rural but near enough to a city to attract customers, great produce, and near the sea. It’d be perfect except Bianca seemed to take delight in infuriating him by completely changing the balance of his dishes by throwing chilli into everything. He wouldn’t be surprised if she kept a little vial of dried chilli in her pocket, just to irritate him.
‘Let’s do an off-the-cuff exercise. I want to see you two together, bounce some ideas, show the camera the real essence of Homage.’
‘I doubt that people want to see us bickering.’ Trust Bianca not to see the whole reason Anvita wanted her on his show. His show—and she was taking over just by being herself. He knew he was being unfair, but this was his ambition, not hers.
Anvita smiled. ‘Oh, but they do.’ She prowled around the edge of the kitchen bench and reached out to Bianca. ‘But first, let’s fix that hair.’
Bianca’s hands flew up but Anvita batted them away, apparently not noticing how Bianca flinched as Anvita tugged the tie out of her pony tail and fluffed her straight black hair until it flowed around her face. The audacity of Anvita, just striding into Bianca’s space, without a care. But it was his fault. He’d wanted the cameras in here, and now Bianca paid the price of his ambition. He wasn’t such an asshole that he couldn’t see when she was out of her comfort zone. Anvita stepped back and Etienne’s fists clenched. A few flicks of her hair and Bianca looked amazing, more incredible than usual. Her hair would look like that all splayed over a pillow. On his bed, underneath him. Where she belonged. Fuck.
‘Now she’ll get hair in the food.’ He sneered to hide the unwieldy rush of desire as flames flickered along his spine. Bianca’s lips parted and she pushed her hair back off her face.
‘I wouldn’t dare. Let’s get this over with, then I can go outside with my chickens. They are more pleasant company.’
Ouch. He faked a smile. ‘What would you like from us, Anvita?’
‘What is in season at the moment?’
‘Chilli.’ Bianca glanced at him with a smirk and he chuckled, low under his breath. He adored her brazen attitude. She shrugged half-heartedly. ‘I mean, it’s late summer, so most things are good. I have a lovely crop of onions, sweet corn, cucumbers, eggplant…’
He couldn’t help himself. ‘Aubergine.’
‘Yeah, that. And a few varieties of edible flowers.’
‘I shall make a traditional lunch for the whole crew.’ Etienne declared. He sounded like a prat even to himself, but the way the crew’s eyes all widened in anticipation of eating good food helped him ignore the way Bianca twitched as if she wanted to kick him in the shin.
‘Great.’ Her voice had a note of insolence as if she was trying not to roll her eyes. ‘Let me guess. Bread. Butter. Some kind of cheese, and you’ll butcher some of my fresh vegetables by cooking them into something unrecognisable.’
‘Perhaps unrecognisable to a philistine. I’ll make a vegetable terrine with an onion chutney. Fresh bread. I made plenty this morning with my sourdough starter.’
‘Told you.’ The smirk on her lips sent a rush of heat over his neck. ‘Why don’t I explain what a terrine is… for the non-Francophiles among us… and I’ll see what I have that will suit?’
‘You are familiar with what the English call meat loaf? A terrine is like that but so much better.’
‘And with vegetables? Like lettuce cake?’
He grinned at her. ‘Non. I will require more of your precious heirloom zucchinis, some pumpkin, but not those big ugly grey ones, a little small one that can be roasted, some beets of different colours, capsicum, and the aubergine.’
‘And then you’ll make them into a pureed loaf. Sounds amazing.’ The sarcasm dripped off her tongue.
‘You have such little faith in my ability. I will transform your beautiful fresh produce into… voila.’ He blew her a kiss. Two could play at this game. ‘And for a main, lightly seared kangaroo with a vinaigrette-infused side salad. What fruits do we have?’
Bianca leaned forward on the bench, resting on her elbows, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She ruined the look with a little glance sideways over at him. She needn’t have bothered—he noticed her.
‘Cherries and figs are juicy at the moment, and we had a cool winter so I have some longan and lychees fruiting now too.’
‘Longan? Lychees? I thought we’d agreed to grow only traditional fruits.’ He couldn’t help winding her up and it worked as she stood up straight with her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed at him, and he drank in her expression. She’d be killer in bed. Fuck—he couldn’t step over that line. He’d seen too many restaurants ruined because the chef couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
‘Both fruits are traditional in Vietnam.’ Bianca turned towards Anvita. ‘My grandparents immigrated to Perth after the Vietnam War, and this chef feels the need to dismiss my culture in favour of his French heritage.’
‘Do not forget, your culture also has much French heritage.’
‘Coloniser,’ she shot back.
‘And Algerian.’ If they were going to discuss their ethnic origins, he wasn’t going to let her erase his mother’s Algerian grandmother.
‘Either way, you don’t get to say that French cooking is tradition as if it is the only way. All cultures have their own traditions and they shouldn’t be dismissed. Make something with the longan. A twist on a traditional French dessert.’
He couldn’t help but grin at the sarcastic way she said traditional. ‘I stand corrected.’ He enjoyed the way she gasped. She slowly raised one eyebrow as if she couldn’t believe he’d agreed with her. ‘Now, off you go. Collect the ingredients, and I’ll start the preparations.’ He waved his hand towards the back door.
‘We will all go. I want some shots of the garden, and Etienne…’
‘Anvita?’ He didn’t want to go out into the garden. That was Bianca’s space and he really needed to stay away and get his overly keen dick under control.
‘Have you got a nice-looking basket? You can carry it while Bianca tells the camera about her produce.’ He expected Bianca to be annoyed at Anvita’s idea, but her lips quirked up into a little grin.
‘Excellent. He can follow me around for a change and do some physical work.’ It must be his imagination, because
surely she hadn’t just flicked a glance down at his biceps. He leaned forward on the bench and flexed them a little. Sure enough, a touch of colour on her cheeks told a surprising story. Tempting him when he really didn’t need the distraction.
‘Why don’t you get started and I’ll join you soon?’ The recipe he’d declared didn’t need any preparation, not until he had the vegetables from her garden. He had made fresh bread this morning, but he needed a moment to compose himself before he spent more time with her. Being outside with Bianca would test his control—she always looked so confident and happy when she was working outdoors among her gorgeous garden. When she’d first started here, she completely redesigned the kitchen gardens and now they thrived. She understood his vision for Homage and her work really did compliment his. Just another reason why he couldn’t ruin their excellent working relationship by lusting after her. Besides, he’d imagined his own TV show would be focused on him, and his recipes, not on the two of them and their odd way of working. If the way she bickered constantly with him meant anything, it probably meant that she couldn’t stand him. She always seemed to sneer at his ideas with a dismissal that hurt his ego, and always in a way that made him want to argue back with her. He didn’t really believe all that nonsense he’d spouted about French food being the only type of tradition that mattered. It was the way she poked him with her words so he said outrageous things to counter her. And she always wanted to add chilli to everything, so the heat overwhelmed the balance in his dishes. He saw the metaphor for the way she spiced up his life, and it annoyed him that she did it without apparently realising her impact on him.
‘Typical. You’ll see, Anvita, he’ll arrive after I’ve done all the work.’ She winked at the producer who smirked.
‘All the work?’ Etienne couldn’t help himself. ‘I’m the one doing all the work on this side of the wall. Someone has to turn your produce into sublime creations that keep patrons returning to Homage. We aren’t renowned as a raw food eatery. No one wants to wash carrots or to have to peel their own longan.’
‘To teamwork. Perhaps you could teach Bianca some basic cooking and she could teach you some of her growing skills,’ Anvita said.
‘No.’ Etienne chuckled as Bianca spoke in unison with him.
‘I’d rather stay outside than take lessons from him. My parents taught me to cook, and I’m more than adequate.’
His pulse quickened. There was one type of lesson he’d love to give her, and he’d bet anything she’d be an exceptional student. There had to be something he could say to keep her annoyed with him, otherwise, he’d be begging her to come to bed with him. He employed her. He couldn’t. No matter how fucking sexy her smart mouth was. Imagine those lips wrapped around his cock as she spoke dirty things to him. The vibration of her voice on his cock would be fantastic. He coughed.
‘And I have no desire to grub around in the dirt.’
‘Without my, as you call it, grubbing around, you’d have to buy inferior produce from multiple suppliers.’
‘Touché. Your produce is superior to anything else in Cowaramup.’
Bianca tilted her head as if she didn’t believe his compliment. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I would never joke about food. Naturally, I am serious. You grow excellent produce. That is how I can create the mouth-watering dishes our restaurant patrons expect.’
Bianca waved at the back door. ‘Superior produce coming right up.’ She ducked outside leaving him to stare at Anvita and the camera crew.
‘Do you see what I mean? Chemistry. This show is going to be special.’ Anvita’s smug knowing expression helped wipe away all his desire for Bianca. Anvita was manipulating his ambition for his own TV show.
‘You focus on the TV side of this, and I’ll focus on producing high quality food that people will fall over themselves to eat.’
Anvita smiled, her eyes still calculating. ‘People don’t watch food television for the food. They watch it for entertainment. And you two are entertaining as hell!’
He swallowed back his egotistical retort about it being his show and his idea. ‘Whatever it takes for success.’
‘You don’t like involving her? Too bad. I want you both. Sparks fly on screen between you and you’ll capture an audience easily.’
‘Fine.’
‘More than fine. Just wait until you see yourselves on screen.’
He smacked his lips together. ‘I don’t need to see. But remember this, Bianca works for me. I won’t cross that boundary.’
Anvita cackled. ‘I don’t care about your moral line. And it suits me a lot better if you don’t fuck her. I would hate for all that unrequited energy to get destroyed.’
‘Good.’ Relief washed over him like the way a tap rinsed dirty dishes; taking away all the ugliness and making them shiny and clean again. Sex by itself wasn’t dirty. He felt no shame for his filthy thoughts—they were entertaining and made him feel good. But the idea of sex with his employee most definitely was out of bounds. The danger in Anvita’s ploy to put him on screen with Bianca was greater if Anvita wanted to matchmake. Having her agree to keep that distance was helpful.
3
Chapter 3
At the end of a long unproductive day, Bianca drove her tractor down to the end of the property. The camera crew had been here far too long, fussing about shot angles and other nonsense, and she’d ended up harvesting way too much produce simply to ensure they got their shots. The whole day was disruptive and having Etienne and everyone else hover around her was exhausting. She parked the tractor at the top of the little hill at the end of her citrus grove and looked out at the sunset. With a sigh, she turned off the engine and tilted her face up towards the fading sun to catch the last few rays. The sharp summer sun felt great on her skin. Lists of tasks that she hadn’t been able to get to today roamed around in her skull, competing with replays of everything she’d said or hadn’t said. People were so tiring. Had she really agreed to be on a TV show with Etienne? What was she thinking? TV wasn’t for introverts like her.
‘Hey.’
She jerked out of her reverie, nearly falling off the old tractor seat at Etienne’s soft comment.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Relax. I have good news.’
‘Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m tired.’ She needed some alone time to recharge.
‘Then go home. Put the tractor away and get some sleep.’ So commanding. Didn’t he ever get tired of bossing everyone—her—about the place?
She twisted to glare at him. ‘Everything is so easy for you. Always with a solution.’
‘Oui. I have the answers to all your problems.’ The little grin on his face did nothing to ease her tension, just shifted it south. Don’t look at his forearms, crossed over his chest.
A laugh bubbled out of her before she could stop it. ‘Do you have to be so bloody French?’
‘What else would I be?’ He uncrossed his arms, placed his hand over his chest and gave her a fake pout, and she bent over with laughter. It tumbled out of her like a waterfall crashing over rocks, unbidden and surprising.
‘True. True.’ She managed to get the words out between gulps of air. ‘It’s been a long day. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She reached out for the tractor key to turn it.
‘Wait. I didn’t walk all the way out here for you to drive away without this discussion.’
She sighed. ‘What? I suppose you are going to tell me everything I did wrong today. Can it wait until tomorrow?’
‘I’m not such a bad boss, am I? Non. I have good news.’ He seemed—hurt?—by her assumption. A flash of something shadowed his eyes for a second and she swallowed. Had she found a chink in the armour of his arrogance? It’d only taken more than a year to find it.
‘Okay.’
‘Initially, I was upset because the TV interview was going badly, it was stilted and awkward and I could tell that Anvita wanted to scrap the project before it even started, and then you walked in the room and everyth
ing changed.’
‘Oh?’ Bianca had never heard Etienne sound so unsure of himself and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She didn’t want to think of him as a person with feelings. It was easier to lust over his spectacular body when he was the prize dickhead because she didn’t have to care for him. She really should change her nickname for him on her phone.
‘You were just you, and as annoying as you are with your just add the chilli, it was exactly what Anvita wanted. She didn’t want yet another cooking show with a chef creating beautiful dishes. She wanted something real.’
‘Real?’ Bianca wanted to know where Etienne was going with this line of discussion.
‘Yeah, real. The way we work together isn’t perfect…’
Bianca nodded. ‘No, but it works.’
‘Yes.’ Etienne stopped looking so grim, although he didn’t quite smile. Suddenly she wanted to make him smile, and not just smile, but laugh with a raw happiness. She’d never seen him laugh. Chuckle, sure, but not a deep belly laugh, where he couldn’t stop.
‘And now we have to expose our annoyance with each other in a public sphere. You know people will come to Homage and want to have a tour of the farm just so they can see me argue with you.’ She really didn’t want this at all. If only she could say no to the hunger in his gaze…
‘You don’t want that?’
‘No. I like a bit of peace and quiet. This TV show—if it goes as well as Anvita is planning—is really going to impact on my alone time.’
‘It’ll only be one or two days a week.’
Or it would be every day when people visited the farm and wanted to see her working. She wanted to quit on the spot, and probably would have if it wasn’t for the expectant way he looked at her, as if she held all his dreams in her hands. ‘I wish I could say no.’
‘It’s because I’m so charming, isn’t it?’ He grinned cheekily and warmth spread through her chest, with little sparkles of lust trickling lower. Bianca deliberately rolled her eyes. She needed some defence against his smile.
Be Mine: Valentine Novellas to Warm The Heart Page 82
