by Vi Keeland
“How long have you been renovating?”
“A little over six months.”
“Well, thanks for your time. Maybe I’ll visit when you’re finished.” She smiled encouragement, but disappointment filled Elyse’s heart at the thought of not staying there. “Good luck with the renovations.”
When she turned to leave, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”
When she turned back, his ice blue eyes held her gaze. The intensity there made her stomach flutter. It should have been a warning sign to run fast and far, but her body responded in other ways. The sensation he created from just one touch coursed through her system, landing straight between her legs.
Oh my…
“For the past few months I’ve been renovating the third floor. If I’m going to live here and run this place, I wanted my rooms to be done first before I started on the rest of the inn. There are two bedrooms up there; both have private bathrooms. You could stay if you want.”
“That’s very nice of you, but—”
“Your room has a lock.”
As if that would keep you out. You have the keys.
“I’m not ready to have guests yet, so I wouldn’t charge you.”
“I couldn’t, but thank you.”
“You drove all this way to Pleasure Inn. There isn’t another place for miles. Spend the night and then you can leave in the morning.”
She wasn’t familiar with the surrounding area and the drive had made her tired. What if she couldn’t find another place to spend the night?
“I don’t blame you for being cautious.” He shrugged. “You do what your gut tells you; but you’re more than welcome to stay here.”
She stared into his deep eyes for a few moments. She’d left the city to get away and forget about the disaster of a relationship with Phillip. She’d done nothing but work for years. She hadn’t been to a restaurant or on a vacation in months. She was too busy cooking for others. Would one night in a beautiful Victorian inn be so bad? How could it be, especially when the inn keeper looked like a goddamned Calvin Klein model?
“I’ll stay on one condition.”
“Sure.”
“You have to tell me your name.”
“Oh.” He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled for the first time since answering the door. “Forgive my manners. I’m Logan Cole.” He extended his hand to her.
“Nice to meet you, Logan,” she said properly as she shook his hand. “I’m Elyse Clapton.”
“Welcome to Pleasure Inn, Ms. Clapton.” He dipped his head as he held the door open for her. “Where all of your fantasies become reality.”
Chapter Two
Logan tried to make as little noise as possible stripping the old wallpaper from the foyer at the main entrance. Through bloodshot eyes, he’d managed to roll out of bed, make his way to the local market, and come back to begin the day’s renovations. His early morning hangovers usually made it impossible to get going before noon. His unexpected guest gave him a burst of energy he hadn’t felt in a long time.
When he answered the door the night before, he never dreamed he’d find such a stunning woman standing on his porch. When she turned to leave, he did the only thing he could think of – put his hand on her arm and asked her to stay. Mesmerized by her charcoal eyes and full pink lips, he couldn’t let her just walk away from him. Even if he had her there for just one night, it was more than he could have dreamed.
He’d been alone for years. After graduating from college, he realized sitting behind a desk all day long completely stifled his spirit. He loved working with his hands and putting his degree in business to use wasn’t satisfying at all. He came back to his home town and started his own handyman business. The pay wasn’t great, but the benefits of working for all those lonely housewives outweighed the profits. Logan made quite the name for himself until one day he was caught with his pants down and his dick in a local politician’s young wife. His uncle intervened, threatened to freeze his trust fund if he didn’t get his act together, and told Logan he was now the proprietor of the dilapidated Pleasure Inn. At twenty-eight, Logan hadn’t done much with his life. The inn was supposed to be his new start. Until now, he’d thought of the hotel as nothing but an annoyance.
Elyse made her way down the grand staircase leading to the front desk. She stopped and watched as Logan peeled off a last piece of wallpaper. He took in her casual appearance. She wore a pair of gray yoga pants and a black long sleeved t-shirt.
“Morning.” He stepped off the ladder. “Did you sleep well?”
“A little too well.” She tucked her long, dark locks behind her ear. Logan itched to twist his fingers through her hair. “I haven’t slept this late in years.”
“As I said last night, I’m not equipped for guests yet, so I went to the market and got some fresh fruit, bagels and muffins… I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” She took a couple of steps into the center of the foyer, closer to where he worked.
The fresh vanilla scent of her body wash was intoxicating and he took another deep breath before he answered, “Of course I did. You’re a guest at my inn. How else can I entice you to stay?”
“If you have real coffee, I’ll stay another night.”
“Well, then I’m in luck.” He motioned toward the kitchen. “Coffee I can do.”
He walked with her down the hallway and flipped on a light. “Do you take cream and sugar?”
She stopped in the doorway, gaping at the large industrial kitchen.
“Is something wrong?”
“I didn’t expect such an elaborate workspace.”
“My aunt liked to cook. She baked fresh pies and desserts for the guests. This was her dream kitchen.”
“It’s fantastic.” Elyse walked over to the oven and crouched down to study the control panel. “A brick oven too?” she asked as she pointed to the other side of the room. “The flatbread pizzas that come out of there must be to die for.”
“Everything is pretty state of the art. Do you cook?” Her enthusiasm piqued his interest. He’d never seen anyone get so excited over appliances. The women he catered to usually had staff to cook for them.
“I’m an executive chef, or at least I was.” She laughed. “Before I fled the city.”
He poured two mugs of coffee and motioned for her to have a seat at the table. “Why did you leave?”
“Things didn’t work out between me and the owner.”
“You were sleeping with him?” He sipped his coffee before sitting across from her. “That always complicates matters.” Visions of the councilman walking into his bedroom and finding Logan with his wife flashed before his eyes. That affair had definitely complicated things for Logan.
“Phillip was my boyfriend, but he had a hard time with the commitment part. I got tired, so I left.”
“You needed a fresh start.” We could all use one of those.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing yet, but I don’t have any immediate plans to head back to New York.”
“If I supply the coffee, will you stay here a few more days?” He needed more time to figure out why he was so taken by her.
“Why?” Her eyes snapped up to his.
“Because I want you here.”
“Again, why?” He heard the uncertainty in her voice. “You don’t know anything about me.” She splashed a small amount of cream into her coffee before blowing into her cup.
“I believe in the here and now. I don’t like to miss opportunities. You’re here now, so let’s see if we can figure out why.”
The skin above her brow creased and her adorable little nose crinkled. “You’re awfully forward, aren’t you Mr. Cole?”
“I go after what I want.”
“Oh.”
He watched her swallow hard, so Logan turned down the intensity. His Dominant personality didn’t always work with everyone he encountered, but he hoped it would work with her. “I’d like for
you to stay here for a few days. Maybe cook in this lavish kitchen that no one uses. I’ve been eating takeout for six months. I could use a home cooked meal.”
“You want me to cook for you?”
“If you want.” He looked around the kitchen reconsidering his earlier notions that the kitchen had been a wasted investment now that he’d stumbled upon a chef. “I saw your face when you came in here. You’re impressed.”
“It’s an amazing kitchen. It has every amenity a five star restaurant would have. The restaurant I ran didn’t have some of the equipment this one does. When you get this inn up and running, your guests will be lucky to have food prepared in here. Your chef is very fortunate.”
“I’m the only one here and I can’t cook. Do I have to feed my guests?”
“Tell me you’re joking.” She laughed. “Would you stay at a hotel that didn’t serve food?”
“I hadn’t thought that far. You’re my first guest.”
“You did say if I stayed here all of my fantasies would become reality.”
“That’s the inn’s motto.” He winked. “I’m a modern day Mr. Rourke.”
“I used to watch reruns of Fantasy Island when I was a kid.” She giggled and Logan thought she sounded like a dainty little princesses from one of those fairytale cartoons.
“Then you know what comes next. What can I do to make your fantasy a reality?” He stood and made a sweeping gesture around the room.
“I want to make you dinner as a thank you for letting me stay here in the middle of your rehab.”
“That sounds like a fantasy for me.” He reached across the table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I said I wanted to fulfill yours.”
She looked down, but he could see the blush seep into her cheeks. The color brightened her face. He liked it.
“I’d love to have dinner with you, but we can order in. You are a guest, after all.”
“Please. I’d like to cook.”
Her sparkling smile made it hard to deny her. “I’d like that.”
“Great!” She stood up suddenly. “I need to go.”
“Where?”
“To the market, unless you tell me the pantry and freezer are stocked.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I know exactly what I want to make. I’ll be back soon.”
Elyse walked down the aisle in the little farmers market about two miles from the inn. Home grown produce and fresh ingredients were perfect for her eggplant parmesan and mushroom risotto. She couldn’t wait to get back to that fabulous kitchen and work her magic. Thoughts of being a gourmet chef at the cozy inn flooded her mind all morning. She couldn’t think of a more perfect job, but she knew it was a long shot. She knew nothing about Logan and he didn’t look as if he had an accelerated timeline when it came to opening the inn.
“Hi,” the cheery cashier said as Elyse placed her items on the counter. “You’re new around here.”
“Yes, I just got into town last night.”
“I’m Cora.” She weighed the tomatoes and neatly bagged them.
“I’m Elyse. It’s nice to meet you. I love this market.”
“Thanks. It’s been in my family for decades. People travel from three towns over to shop here.”
“I can see why,” Elyse said. “You have everything a chef could want.”
“Are you staying around here?”
“About two miles down the road.” Elyse stepped around to help bag her items.
“Really? Where about? There isn’t anything that close except for the old inn.”
“That’s where I’m staying. It’s a gorgeous place.”
“But, it hasn’t been open for years. I know Logan’s been renovating, but I didn’t think it was ready for guests.”
“It isn’t.” Elyse handed Cora her credit card. “He’s still working on it. But he’s doing a fantastic job.”
“How long have you known Logan?” Elyse sensed a change in the perky cashier’s demeanor. “I didn’t realize he had company.”
“Not long. He was nice enough to let me stay, so I’m making him a thank you dinner.”
“How sweet.” She smiled tightly as she punched in the numbers on the register. “It certainly doesn’t take him long.”
“Excuse me?”
“Logan is the town player,” she said. “He likes to play games.”
“What kind of games?” Elyse could feel the jealousy rolling off Cora.
“Logan can be all sexy and charming, but he has a darker side. A side that woman don’t see on the surface. If you don’t know him that well, I’d watch him. Not everyone can handle him.”
Why would a total stranger tell her about Logan? It didn’t make sense, unless…
“Were you one of those women?” Nothing more dangerous than a woman scorned.
“I’ve known Logan my whole life. We’re very, familiar with one another. I’ve been a guest at the inn on more than one occasion, if you know what I mean.”
Elyse nodded as she gathered up her bags. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Anything to help out a fellow girlfriend.” She smirked. “We have to stick together. Don’t let him charm you.”
“I’m a big girl.” Elyse headed for the exit. “I’ll see you around.”
“How long are you planning on staying?”
“As long as it takes.”
Elyse jostled her bags and gave Cora a quick wave. As she headed toward her car she felt invigorated, despite the other woman’s counsel. She’d known Logan less than twenty-four hours, and already she dreamed of running his kitchen and slipping into his bed. She’d gotten territorial with a woman she didn’t even know over a man she didn’t know, but who’d dominated her thoughts all day. Coming to Connecticut to sort out her life might have been just the thing. Maybe Logan Cole was exactly what she needed.
Chapter Three
Logan stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Elyse pulled the last tray from the oven. The aroma of her creations had swirled around the inn all afternoon. Just knowing she was in the house while he painted the foyer was – nice.
She had made him fresh brewed iced tea and cranberry scones. He’d had his share of women throughout the years. Many had managed to satisfy his eclectic sexual appetite but none had ever made him fresh baked goods or cooked him dinner. Most of them were either interested in his looks or his trust fund. Random women hopping in and out of his bed had never bothered him. But that was before last night, when the striking woman now standing in his kitchen had first showed up on his doorstep.
He wanted to ravish every inch of her luscious body, but that wasn’t the only thing he wanted from her. The desire to get into her mind completely over-shadowed the need to get her into his bed. That had never happened to him before.
“Hey.” She caught him staring at her. “Are you hungry?”
“You have no idea.”
She laughed.
“I mean, everything smells so good and I’m starving.” I’m an idiot.
“So you only want me for my cooking skills?” She placed two wine glasses on the kitchen table.
“I wouldn’t say that. Here, let me pour the wine.” A drink sounded good right about now. “You just – sit.”
She sat in the seat in front of the large picture window with an amazing view of the backyard behind her. The moon shone into the room illuminating her creamy skin. Her long, dark hair hung loose over her shoulders brushing the tops of her breasts each time she moved. Her shirt dipped low enough that he could see the valley between them. Images of him licking a path through that valley and down her smooth, flat stomach as he moved closer to her heat cluttered his thoughts. What does she taste like?
“Here you go.” He handed her a glass of wine trying to set aside his highly inappropriate thoughts. “I hope you like white.”
She sipped it. “It’s very good – and rare. I haven’t seen a bottle of this in years.”
“There’s a whole wine cellar in the b
asement. You should check it out.”
“You’re a wine enthusiast? I would have pegged you as more of a hard liquor man.”
“You would be right. My aunt and uncle enjoyed wine. They traveled to vineyards all over the country adding to their collection. If I ever get this place up and running, I could make a fortune off the stash in the basement. I’m sure people would pay big bucks for a glass of what I have in that cellar.”
“When do you think that will be?” She took his plate and served him. Her subservient side came naturally to her. He watched as she took her time making the plate look as if it had come out of a fancy restaurant.
“That looks too good to eat.”
“That’s the point.” The pride in her smile was evident. “Is there anything else I can get you? Would you like more sauce on your eggplant?”
“No, this is fine. Do you usually serve your date dinner?”
“Are you my date?” She began compiling her own meal.
“You know what I mean.” He took a forkful of risotto.
“I’m in the restaurant industry, so I aim to please; but no, you’re the first man I’ve served.”
“I like it.” Much more than you could ever realize. “This is delicious.”
“I’m glad.”
“I like you.” He sipped his drink.
“You don’t even know me.”
“You like to cook, you like to serve me. What else do I need to know?” He finished his wine and then poured himself another glass.
“You’re very charming.” She rolled her eyes. “Would you like me to kneel at your feet while you eat?”
“Would you?”
She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. He’d stunned her.
“Eat your dinner. We can discuss your submissive tendencies later.”
“I’m not submissive.”
“Hmm.” He slathered butter on a piece of homemade biscuit. “Where did you grow up?”
“New Haven.”
“I went to college there.”
“Where?”
“Yale – have you heard of it?” He teased.
