A Taste of Temptation

by Cat Schield

  “I wasn’t.”

  “That doesn’t sound much like the Harper I know.” He drew back so he could look into her face. “What’s happened?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m not the Harper anyone knows.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I found out something today.” She pressed her lips together, knowing she shouldn’t talk about her secret. If the truth about her paternity got out, she’d never become the CEO of Fontaine Hotels and Resorts. “Something that has changed everything I thought I ever knew about myself.”

  “That sounds troubling.” He stroked her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “What are you going to do?”

  Most people would have asked what she’d discovered. With what she’d learned about him in these past few days, Harper understood why he didn’t pry. He had a past he wanted to keep private. Things he wasn’t proud of.

  “I don’t know,” she told him. “I haven’t been thinking too clearly these past few hours.” She gave him a wry grin. “I mean, look at me. Twenty-four hours earlier, would I have slept with you?”

  “I like to think you were heading down that road.”

  And she probably had been. “Maybe I’m just making excuses for doing something I’ve wanted all along.”

  “Why do you have to make excuses?”

  “I don’t take sex lightly. For me it’s something that comes out of a relationship that has the chance of lasting.”

  “And you don’t think ours will?”

  “I think our business relationship will be a lasting one.”

  He kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I hope so. As for the other, I think we are good for each other. Let’s hold on to that for the time being.”

  As promises went, it wasn’t much, but Harper reasoned that for Ashton it was major. She snuggled against his body and let the rhythmic thump of his heart mesmerize her into complete relaxation. The shock of earlier revelations faded as did her ambivalence about what the future held. In Ashton’s arms she knew exactly who she was. More than that could wait until the next day.

  Seven

  Ashton was on his second cup of coffee when the sound of a knock at the door of his suite made him smile. So, after sneaking off while he slept at some point during the wee hours, she’d decided to come back for round four. Smirking, Ashton went to let her in. Only, it wasn’t Harper standing in the hall, but Vince.

  “What’s going on?” he asked his manager, not liking the grim expression Vince wore. “How come you’re here?”

  “The Lifestyle people have moved up the taping date on your pilot. They want you to come to New York and do it tomorrow.”

  Ashton cursed, disliking that they were making him jump through hoops. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. We might have dug our heels in a little too hard. I heard they may be looking at other chefs.”

  And he was going to lose this fantastic opportunity if he didn’t move quickly. “What can we do?”

  “I’d suggest that we show them how committed we are to Lifestyle Network.”

  “You want me to quit The Culinary Wanderer.”

  “You’re not happy with the direction they intend to take the show next year. I think it’s a good time to cut ties.”

  His gut told him this was the wrong thing to do, but he’d hired Vince because his gut wasn’t right 100 percent of the time. Nor was Ashton convinced he could make decisions about the show he’d worked on for so many years without letting his emotions get the better of him.

  “Call Phillips and tell them I’m not going to continue with The Culinary Wanderer.” Harper’s face flashed before his eyes as he said this. She would be disappointed. And that bothered him more than it should. But this was business. In the end she’d accept that.

  “I have things to do before I can head to New York.” Chef Cole had not yet arrived from Chicago to take up his duties. Ashton would brief Dae on all the things that needed to be done in the next few days. The kid was smart and resourceful. “How did you get here?”

  “Commercial. The network is sending their plane to pick us up tonight.”

  Well, at least that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. The biggest challenge was going to be telling Harper that he was leaving ten days before Batouri was due to open. That was a conversation he’d better have sooner than later.

  * * *

  After leaving Ashton slumbering peacefully in his bed, Harper had spent the rest of the night on her couch, burrowed beneath a cotton throw, watching one episode after another of The Culinary Wanderer. She’d stared at Ashton’s image on the screen, unable to believe she’d fulfilled the only sexual fantasy she’d ever had.

  Reality had far exceeded anything she could have dreamed up. She’d expected Ashton would be a skilled and masterful lover, but he’d demonstrated a level of caring and consideration of her pleasure that had far surpassed any intimacy she’d ever known. Even now, after several rounds of lovemaking, her body throbbed with desire for him.

  But would she have made love with him last night if her defenses hadn’t been crushed by the knowledge that she wasn’t a Fontaine? The answer wasn’t clear enough for Harper’s liking. She felt lost and adrift. It’s why she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t make her mind function the way it normally did. No patterns emerged out of the chaos of her thoughts. Her ability to plan and make things happen had left her. She was a shell, waiting to be filled with purpose.

  Harper passed her hand over her dry, tired eyes before levering herself off the cushions and heading to make coffee. Her cell phone chirped. A text message. Probably Mary wondering why she hadn’t picked up the report on last night’s numbers.

  Harper picked up the phone, intending to shut it off. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like being responsible. But she really should call Mary. Unless Harper explicitly stated her unavailability, her assistant expected her to answer, and if she didn’t, Mary would probably send security to check on her.

  Heaving a sigh, Harper dialed. With Fontaine Ciel open and running smoothly, she could hand over the reins to her general manager for a while. When her assistant picked up, Harper said, “I’m going to take some time off. If anything comes up have Bob handle it.”

  As simple as that, she was free. She’d expected to feel lighter with the concerns of the hotel off her shoulders, but it was only a matter of time before her hours of playing hooky would end and she’d take up the reins once more.

  Mug in hand, she headed off to shower. In the past ten hours she’d watched the entire season Ashton had spent in Europe. She’d chosen these particular episodes to watch because she’d visited several of the same countries. The contrast between her experiences and his could not have been more dramatic. He loved what he did. The people he met fascinated him. His culinary encounters often astonished him. Not everything was to his taste, but he was always game to try.

  She’d visited and left countries without ever getting to know their cultures. Most of the time she was on a tight deadline that left little room to go exploring. She’d been proud of how hard she worked, had wallowed in her arrogance that she knew best in almost every situation.

  In her own way, she was as committed to her path as Ashton was to his. She’d grown impatient with his lack of focus on the restaurant. How many people had she frustrated with her inability to relax? She drove herself hard and expected her employees to follow in her footsteps. Being a woman, she’d known she’d have to work hard to prove to her grandfather that she was executive material, worthy of someday taking her place as head of the family business.

  All that work only to find out she’d wasted the past twenty-nine years of her life chasing a goal that wasn’t hers to pursue. The futility of it all infuriated her. Leaving her suite, Harper headed to the parking garage where she retrieved her c
ar and headed to the mall for a little shopping therapy.

  Harper cruised store after store without buying anything while she pondered how profoundly her life had changed. She had to tell her grandfather the truth, didn’t she? Neither Scarlett nor Violet thought it was a good idea. But what toll would living a lie take on her psyche?

  Sick of questions that had no easy answers, Harper ducked into a bookstore, deciding what she needed was a few hours of getting lost in someone else’s problems. It had been too long since she’d taken time to read something besides reports. She picked up a copy of her favorite author’s latest novel and headed to the front to pay.

  While she waited behind a mother with two children under the age of five, her attention drifted toward a display of coffee table books. The leopard on the cover of one caught her attention. As a child she’d spent hours flipping through a book of African wildlife photos at her grandmother’s home in the Hamptons. She’d found the images riveting and realized now that it was probably what had planted the seeds of longing to travel.

  The hair on Harper’s arms lifted as she was struck by a sudden realization. Penelope had engaged in an affair with a wildlife photographer. Was it just a coincidence that she’d given Harper’s grandmother a book of wildlife photos? Deep in her soul, Harper knew it wasn’t.

  She stepped out of the checkout line and headed toward the display that had caught her attention. This book wasn’t the same as the one in her grandmother’s library. Gripped by sudden urgency, she dialed her grandmother’s Hamptons house. As expected, Tilly, her grandmother’s housekeeper, answered.

  “Hi, Tilly, it’s Harper.”

  “Hello, Harper. I’m afraid your grandmother isn’t here at the moment.”

  “Oh, that’s right. She mentioned her plans to go shopping when I spoke with her last Sunday.” Which was why Harper knew she could call at this time and accomplish her goal without explaining why she was so interested in a book of photographs. “Could you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “There’s a book of African wildlife photos in the library that my mother gave Grandma for her birthday a long time ago. I used to look at it when I visited, but I don’t think I’ve see it since I was thirteen or fourteen. Could you find it for me?”

  “Give me a second.” If Tilly thought the request was odd, coming out of the blue like this, she gave no sign. The Hamptons house had a five-thousand-square-foot first floor so it took a few minutes before Tilly came back on the line. “I have it here.”

  Harper exhaled in relief. She’d been half afraid that the book would have been lost in the past fifteen years. Her grandmother wasn’t the most sentimental woman and might not have kept a birthday present from her daughter that long.

  “Can you tell me who the photographer was?”

  “Greg LeDay.”

  “Perfect. Thank you, Tilly. And don’t mention to anyone that I called. I’ll check in with Grandma on Sunday as usual.”

  “She always loves to hear from you.”

  Harper ended the call and felt a bit light-headed. Was Greg LeDay her father? With shaking fingers, she tapped his name into the internet browser on her phone and waited impatiently for the search results to come up. To her immense delight he had a website. She went straight to his bio page and spent a long moment staring at the black-and-white photo of a handsome, rugged man in his mid-fifties standing beside a battered jeep, a camera with an enormous lens in his hands. Five giraffes loped across the landscape behind him.

  His easy posture and half grin reminded her so much of Ashton that she couldn’t breathe for a second. The two men were obviously cut from the same cloth. No wonder she was so drawn to the man who starred in The Culinary Wanderer. She had an adventurer’s blood running through her veins.

  After several minutes of staring at the photo, she began exploring LeDay’s website. In addition to being a photographer, he also acted as a guide for others who were interested in taking pictures of wildlife. In fact, he had several tours lined up in the coming months. One left in two days.

  An idea bloomed. She emailed LeDay about joining the safari. Abandoning the book she’d come to purchase for a travel guide to South Africa, Harper headed for her car and the nearest sporting goods store. Within ten minutes, she stood before a display of travel bags and finally understood the importance of Ashton’s go bag. Pack light and be ready to take off for the next exotic location at a moment’s notice.

  Isn’t that what fascinated her about his television show? His lack of baggage, both physical and spiritual? He took what he could comfortably carry. Lightweight clothes that would travel well. His notebooks for when inspiration struck. Some toiletries. And most important? A camera.

  Seized by a vision of what she would take on her own adventure, Harper picked out a rolling backpack system and gathered whatever accessories she would need for the next few weeks.

  It wasn’t until she’d paid for her purchases and lugged them out to her car that she began to question the sanity of what she intended to do. What made her think that this man who might be her father would appreciate her showing up out of the blue? She had no idea if he knew she existed. But if she didn’t take the chance and meet him, she might never stop questioning who she was. Her identity secure, she would know whether or not she could stay quiet about her true parentage and spend the rest of her life living a lie. Scarlett and Violet had already promised to support whatever decision she made. She was lucky to have them in her life.

  Anticipation filled her with a wild sort of joy as she returned to her hotel suite and sifted through all she’d bought. It was a ridiculous amount, she realized, staring at it scattered over her bed. Never before had she needed to mull over every ounce of what she was packing. Her trips had involved porters, bellhops and hired cars.

  Harper abandoned her packing conundrum and went online to check flights to Johannesburg, South Africa. To her surprise she had several choices all leaving that evening. Why wait? Now that she’d made the decision to go, every minute that went by increased her craving to be off.

  Unable to believe how easy the whole thing was, she assembled her own go bag. Small enough to fit in an overhead bin, it weighed thirty pounds completely loaded. By the time she’d dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt and a brown leather bomber jacket she’d found in the back of her closet, her nerves were humming with excitement.

  As she turned off the lights and pulled the door of her suite shut behind her, Harper was struck by a profound sense of stepping across the threshold into a whole new state of being. It was thrilling to be rushing off into the night with no idea what to anticipate next and no way of controlling the outcome.

  She was halfway down the hall when the elevator door opened and Ashton emerged pulling his own go bag behind him. When he spotted her, he stopped dead. His position in the doorway kept the elevator open.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded as she stepped onto the elevator beside him.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” Disappointment hit her. She needed him in Las Vegas, focused on the soon-to-open restaurant.

  “I was coming to see you.”

  She glanced pointedly at his luggage. “And after that?”

  “I’m flying to New York for a few days. The negotiations for the new show have reached a critical point.”

  “How critical?”

  “I may be on the verge of losing the deal.”

  Hope flared. If he didn’t do the new show he could stay on with The Culinary Wanderer. She was careful to keep her voice neutral as she said, “Maybe that’s not the worst that could happen.”

  “But doing the new show means I’ll get to spend most of the year in New York City.”

  Where she would be if she stopped asking questions about her biological father and accepted that she belonged in charge of Fontaine Hotels and Resor
ts. Would her relationship with Ashton develop into something serious if they were both in New York?

  “It sounds like an amazing opportunity,” she told him. “I just wish you could do both the new show and The Culinary Wanderer.”

  “Sounds like you don’t want me around.” He said it with a wry kick of his lips, but his eyes were serious as he awaited her response.

  She’d felt connected to him these past few days. He’d filled her head with his stories and inspired her to go in search of a few of her own.

  “It isn’t that.” She paused, unsure if she should voice how much she craved his company. The man had one foot out the door on the best of days. “Are you sure you’re going to be happy if you’re stuck in one place for a long time? Won’t you get bored?”

  “If you’re worried about my ability to control my need for change, don’t be. Once I find something I love, I have no trouble sticking with it.”

  “And yet here you are leaving town a week and a half before Batouri is set to open.”

  His lips tightened momentarily. “Everything is handled. I’ve given Dae my recipes and instructions and he knows how I work. He can keep things on track until Cole gets here. And I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “It’s your restaurant. Your reputation on the line.” From his expression she could tell he hadn’t expected her to pass complete control of the project to him. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

  “Which brings us to you. If you’re heading to New York, I can give you a ride in the network’s corporate jet.”

  “Thank you, but I’ve already booked my flight.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather travel in style? I can promise the pantry is well stocked.”

  “It’s kind of you to offer, but we are destined for different locations.”

  He scrutinized her clothes and her bag. “Where are you going?”

  “South Africa.”