by Addison Fox
Lilah’s blond hair was visible through the frosted panes on either side of the door and he heard several locks flip over before the door swung wide.
And nearly lost his breath at the vision that stood on the other side.
The messy knot at her nape was gone, replaced by an elegant updo that showed off her neck and toned shoulders. A silky black dress clung to her like a second skin and it took him a long moment to remember to speak.
Focus on the job, Graystone. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Her gaze drifted over him, head to toe, before settling on his. “You ready?”
“I can’t come in?”
“Why?”
“I’d like to see your place.”
The comment was out before he could check it and he knew he’d better reel it back in. This was work. But before he could brush off the request, she’d also stepped away from the door, gesturing him in. “Sure. Of course. We’ve got some time. I’ll give you a tour.”
She moved through the house, pointing out various rooms as she walked. The subtle pops of color in each room were clearly her—bright, vivid impressions that reached out and grabbed the senses.
Just like her.
While each room offered fascinating insight into Lilah Castle, he couldn’t deny his equal fascination with the woman herself. His gaze continued to roam over the long length of her legs, perched on another impressive set of heels, or the delicate stretch of her slim neck from just beneath her ear to the curve of her shoulder.
But it was their arrival at the kitchen that spoke volumes. Her slender frame telegraphed a sense of happiness and peace. Reed couldn’t explain exactly how he knew that other than he did.
Just like her professional workspace, the kitchen gleamed, the marble counters shined to a high gloss. A Sub-Zero refrigerator stood on the far wall, followed by a top-of-the-line gas stove.
“You spared no expense.”
“The kitchen’s mine. All mine. And it simply doesn’t make sense to work with lesser tools, either at work or at home.” She let out a small sigh. “That was the one lesson Steven taught me I was willing to take along.”
The mention of DeWinter stilled him, any sense of playfulness vanishing at the reality of what they were about to do. “We don’t have to do this, Lilah. I can find another way in. Heck, I can bring one of my team members with me and we can go tomorrow. We’ll make it look like a date.”
“It won’t be the same.”
He ran a lone finger down the length of her arm, the chill he found there breaking his heart. “It’s asking questions, nothing more.”
“If he’s in this, he needs to understand we know. That I know. I need to do this. To look into his eyes and see if he was responsible for even more evil in my life.”
Reed hesitated, the evidence of her hatred like a dark, living thing roiling in the kitchen, pushing out the sunlight and happiness. “Will you ever tell me the full story of what he did to you?”
“Someday. Maybe.” She shrugged, the normally warm brown of her eyes going flat. “It’s really not a very interesting story. A cautionary tale, maybe, but far from interesting.”
“I’m interested.”
“Well, I’m not.”
* * *
Lilah folded and refolded her hands in her lap. The drive to Steven’s flagship restaurant, Portia, wasn’t far from her home, but the ride seemed to last forever. She’d struggled with something to say since shutting Reed down in her kitchen and so far, she’d managed to come up with a dopey comment about the summer heat.
Of course it was hot. It was August. In Texas.
Moron.
Worse, she was inept. Clumsy. Gauche.
Reed Graystone probably dated supermodels. Or women who looked like them at a bare minimum. Yet he was here with her. No one would believe it. Or understand why they were together. Steven would see right through it.
The words and thoughts kept drifting through her mind, one worse than the next, a shocking reminder of how easy it was to go back to that place. The one that suggested how worthless she was.
It took her a minute to register the large hand that had enfolded on top of hers.
“Lilah. We’re here.”
“What?”
Reed dropped her hand and waved off the valet, pointing toward a spot on the far side of the lot. He navigated them to the opening and it was only when he had the car in Park once more that his hand enveloped hers.
“You okay?”
“Yes.” No.
“Let me rephrase the question. Do you want to go home?”
“No.” Yes.
“Look at me.” The warm gray of his eyes drew her in, going a long way toward calming her nerves and the hateful words scrambling through her mind like errant pinballs.
Errant zombies, more like. Ravages of a former life.
Her former life.
On a deep breath, she fought to frame up her strange and rambling thoughts in the hard-won perspective she’d worked for so desperately over the past few years.
She wasn’t clumsy and gauche, no matter how many times Steven had tried to make her feel that way.
And what the hell did it matter what Reed’s dates looked like in the past? He was here with her. Dressed up to go out with her.
Whatever madness her subconscious could cook up didn’t matter because Steven wasn’t going to suspect anything.
Because Steven thought of no one but himself. Ever.
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true.”
“It’s not true that Steven had the outside of the restaurant repainted?”
His smile was gentle. “I meant the other thing that you were thinking. The one that had your skin as pale as a boiled potato.”
“I never—”
Before she could say anything else, his mouth came down on hers, effectively silencing whatever she was about to say.
Liquid need coursed through her like the most potent of drugs at the immediate fire that leaped between them. Despite the cool temperature of the car, she thought she was on the verge of burning up. Hot, glorious flames licked at every inch of her skin, out of control as they kept pace with the increasing urgency of his mouth.
With nothing to do but follow him into the blaze, she shifted so he had even easier access to her mouth and lifted a hand to the back of his head. His thick, glossy hair was warmed by his body heat, and she reveled in the smooth texture.
The angle of the car prevented them from moving flush against each other, but he did shift to free her from the seat belt, then settled his hand over her hip. His fingertips seemed to melt her flesh, his touch over the thin strap of her thong as effective as a branding iron.
Fear and anger, anxiety and nerves—all faded under the power of his mouth.
His touch.
His taste.
And it was only when he pulled away, dark churning clouds filling his gaze, that Lilah realized he’d not only inflamed her, making her want and need in a way she’d never known, but he’d done something even more important. More precious.
He’d silenced the ugly, hateful words.
* * *
The Duke sat in the back of his car and barked out instructions to Alex. He’d planned to dine at Portia tonight, but he wasn’t going inside now. Not with the woman and the police cozied up together like a besotted couple.
He’d almost missed them. His hand had been on the door and he was nearly out of the car when something familiar had caught his attention.
Hidden behind the blackened window, he instructed Alex to beg off his business dinner. Some mysterious illness from a recent trip overseas would do nicely.
Alex made the requisite call and the Duke watched as the woman disappeared into the restaurant. The cop’s hand was
low on her back, suggesting an intimacy the Duke was unaware of, as the cop followed her through the door.
This was an interesting turn of events.
He’d kept an eye on the police, dependent on his contacts inside the precinct to stay aware and informed. They hadn’t failed him yet.
Of course, this little tête-à-tête was unexpected.
“It’s done, sir.”
“Thank you, Alex. I’d like to add a little surprise to the good detective’s brakes before we go.”
“Sir?” Alex turned from the front, surprise etched clearly on his face. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
The man nodded, his expression resigned. “Of course.”
* * *
With the taste of her still lingering on his lips, Reed escorted Lilah to their table. He’d settled a proprietary hand on her lower back once he’d helped her from the car and since she hadn’t yet shaken him off, he wasn’t budging. The subtle trembling of her limbs had stilled and normal color had returned to her cheeks and he was grateful for both.
What he hadn’t quite reconciled was the devastating need pumping through his system in hard, demanding bursts.
He wanted her. With a determination he’d not felt in, well, ever.
He just wanted her. Lilah.
And the very last thing she needed was this complication. Hell, they were inside her ass of an ex-husband’s restaurant and all he could think of was stripping her naked.
Ignoring the demands of his body that refused to be sated, he accepted the inconvenience for what it was. He’d take a million unfulfilled moments to make sure that spark stayed present in her eyes and that warm wash of pink highlighted her cheeks.
Anything other than the mindless fear that had gripped her on the drive over.
The small nod as he passed Jessie and Dave—both already in place and appearing for all the world like two besotted teenagers—brought him back fully to the moment.
This was an op. He’d do well to remember that.
Their hostess had them seated, menus already presented, and then departed when Lilah finally smiled. “At least that was one lucky break.”
“What was?”
“That hostess is new. She had no idea who I was.”
“It’s been a long time since you worked here.”
“It has, but the restaurant community is small, especially at this level. Once people get in with a good place, they’re loath to leave.”
The comment gave him the opening he needed. “It’s a hard life. Waiting on others. Giving them special moments. Memories.”
“No harder than any other job.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He set his menu aside, his focus fully on Lilah. “It’s a lot of work to prep for an event and then another round of work to bring it off. In this very short amount of time, I’ve seen that with you and your partners. There’s not a lot of downtime in what you do. Not a lot of time for yourself.”
“I like it.” She shrugged. “I like making something others think is special. Something they’ll remember and talk about. Dream about.”
“And you? How many moments do you get to dream about?”
“Enough.” A small smile hovered about her lips. “And I have to confess, this duck à l’orange is one of those dreams.”
He glanced down at his menu. “The duck? Really?”
“Seriously. I hate to admit it because any thought of my ex-husband is firmly locked in the boiling-acid waters of disgust and loathing.”
“Boiling-acid waters?”
“Oh yes.” She nodded as she took a sip of sparkling water already poured. “They make a Dallas summer look downright frigid. But as I was saying, the duck is a trade secret. One I likely could conjure up if I worked at it hard enough.”
“Have you tried it?”
“No. I’m too distracted to cook.”
“Distracted?”
She took another sip, her gaze thoughtful. “I mean that in the best way. I think about cooking and then there’s always something else to do. Some new sweet treat to try or an item I’m working on perfecting. I enjoy food but I love pastries.”
“I think I’m going to have to call in Vice.”
Her eyes narrowed, the twinkle vanishing from her chocolate gaze. “Vice?”
“I thought it earlier, but you’ve only proven it. You’re a sugar pusher, and your pastries are more addictive than crack.”
The light returned, even brighter than before, and Reed felt himself pulled along in the moment. “That’s basically the nicest compliment you can give a baker.”
“Is it a compliment when it’s true?”
“It’s lovely.” She laid a hand over his, the warmth of her touch going a long way toward reinvigorating his memory of their time in the car. “Thank you.”
“Well, good evening.”
The fingers that were so warm on his tightened as they both looked up into the steel-blue gaze of Steven DeWinter. Reed shifted his hand, the subtle gesture of his palm enfolding Lilah’s clearly not lost on her ex-husband. “Hello.”
Steven ignored his greeting, his gaze steady on Lilah. Reed didn’t miss the way DeWinter’s eyes traveled over the pink streak in her hair, a slight sneer turning the edge of his lips. Interesting.
Reed gave her fingers a soft squeeze, willing his strength into her via touch. “I’m surprised to see you here. You’ve not done a Restaurant Week with us in many years.”
“I thought it was time.”
“That always was your problem, wasn’t it?” Steven gestured a sommelier over, the man’s movements swift and efficient as he rushed to the table. “Too much thinking.”
Reed fought the urge to say anything, sensing DeWinter’s subtle dig wasn’t quite the right moment to step in. Especially when the color he feared would vanish rode high and bright on Lilah’s cheeks.
“Yes, brains are such a devastating trait in a woman.” Reed felt her shift before she ran a lone finger over his knuckles, her touch light. Playful. “Almost as bad as the will to use them.”
Reed maintained an air of the bemused new boyfriend, his smile broad and his besotted gaze vague and unfocused as Lilah worked over DeWinter.
“Pierre. Please see that one of our best accompaniments is brought to the table this evening. My compliments.”
“Thank you, Steven.” Lilah nodded, her smile simple. Contrite, even.
“My pleasure.” DeWinter shifted subtly in the narrow space between tables, his hands outstretched. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“One more thing. Please be sure to send the pastry chef out with dessert. I’d like to ask him a few questions.”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
* * *
Lilah fought the adrenaline spiking through her system like frequency waves. Big to little and back up to big again. If she weren’t sitting still, she’d have sworn she was on a roller coaster, her head was swimming with that small moment of victory.
“Well played, Miss Castle.”
“Thank you.” She nodded and reached for her wineglass, clinking it to the one Reed had already lifted high.
“I don’t think we’ll see him again.”
“Hardly.” She leaned forward, unable to keep the conspiratorial whisper from her voice. “Why do you think I asked for the pastry chef?”
“To compare notes?”
She smiled and knew several drops of cat’s cream dripped from the corners of her lips. “Steven is the face of his restaurants. He refuses to allow any accolades to come to his staff, no matter how minor or well-intentioned.”
“So you primed the pump.”
“Exactly. I give the pastry chef no more than thirty seconds tableside before Steven makes his reappearance.”
“I’ve lived it. Seriously, we could clock it with an egg timer.”
She saw the moment something changed. Those broad shoulders—even broader under the black cut of his sport jacket—stiffened and his lips compressed into a hard line.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Seriously, Reed. What?”
He hesitated another moment, which only managed to up the curiosity quotient. She’d yet to see the man indecisive about anything.
“It’s nothing.”
“Come on. Please say it.”
“What did you ever see in him?”
Although she’d brushed off inquiries about Steven when they’d stood in her kitchen, Lilah knew she owed Reed some explanation. Sitting smack inside enemy territory only made that point even more clear.
Settling her nerves with a deep breath, she opened the mental door she usually kept firmly closed.
“He was larger than life. And he was older than me, which I suspect added a bit to the glamour. And, this evening aside, he can be quite charming when he wants to be. No one gets to his level in the restaurant business without managing a combination of polish and ruthlessness. I guess all I saw was the polish.”
“There are a lot of ruthless SOBs who don’t abuse others. In fact, their spouses normally sit on the top of the list of those they don’t abuse.”
She warmed at his immediate defense. “True. So maybe a better way to put it is that I was enamored of the polish and it deafened me to my instincts. Especially once the startling reality of the person I’d joined myself to began to sink in.”
“I’m glad you started listening.”
“Me, too.”
Lilah glanced around the restaurant. The vibrant hum of diners surrounded them, creating a strange sort of cocoon in the midst of the noise and excitement. “It’s a strange business. A tough one, too.
“The question you asked me earlier? About being on call during everyone else’s personal moments? Those personal moments can turn on you in a heartbeat. It’s so hard to keep a restaurant successful beyond your early halcyon days. And that’s if you’re lucky enough to even take off and have halcyon days.”
