“Jealous?” Eugene sounded horrified. “Dr. Summer, I’m trying to protect you and your work. I… I…”
Grandma Dotty tilted her head toward Aubrey’s former assistant. “Is this the nose? Did he get out of line with you?” She bunched her petite fingers into fists.
Eugene gasped and placed a hand over his nose and mouth, so that his words came out in a mumble. “Are you making fun of me? Have you been making fun of me all this time?”
“No.” Aubrey resisted rolling her eyes. “I didn’t call you the nose.”
“I came here to save you from Mr. Alfaro.” Now it was Eugene punching the lobby button, not once, but three times.
The elevator doors slid open at the fifth floor. Grandma Dotty stepped through, despite the fact that this wasn’t their floor. Aubrey made to follow, escape being the wisest course of action since Eugene was clearly suffering from heat stroke and delusions of grandeur.
“Dr. Summer…” Eugene blew out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He swallowed that big Adams apple. “Aubrey. You can’t go to dinner with him.”
Dinner.
Him.
The words finally sunk in. Aubrey’s stomach fell five flights to the ground floor. “What do you mean?” She leaned her shoulder against the elevator door, holding herself up.
“I saw you agree to go to dinner with Mr. Alfaro.” Eugene’s blue eyes glimmered behind his round lenses.
Aubrey shook her head. “But…You must be confused.” Nino? Mr. Alfaro? They couldn’t be one and the same. “I was just with Nino.”
“Have you decided to give that heartbreaker a chance?” Grandma Dotty smiled her approval.
“No,” Aubrey said in a wispy voice, still wrestling with denial. Nino was sexy but kind. He cared for her and she–
“No,” Eugene whined the way a child does when his mother makes a wrong assumption. “Please tell me you aren’t falling for him. He only wants your trade secrets, probably because he couldn’t get them out of me.”
Aubrey slumped against the door.
Nino couldn’t be…
It wasn’t possible…
Her heart panged.
Clues dripped into her consciousness like fast drops from a leaking faucet. Nino had never told her his full name or what he did for a living. He was curious about her hatred of Marcos Alfaro. He’d repeatedly tried to charm her with his interest in her work.
Aubrey slid to the floor, feeling sick. He was trying to use her. He must think she was an idiot.
“I heard a hotel employee telling Mr. Alfaro you’d arrived,” Eugene said, recovering some of his pride. “My Spanish is getting better. I don’t think Mr. Alfaro realized I knew what was being said.”
Now it was Aubrey covering her mouth. There was no denying it. “Nino is Marcos Alfaro,” Aubrey admitted miserably. She’d come to Ecuador resenting Marcos Alfaro. And now, she hated him.
Sadly, a part of her still longed to kiss him.
“But, I thought the nose was the threat.” Grandma Dotty was slow on the uptake. “He went to work for this Alfaro character.”
“I would never betray you.” Eugene knelt and stared at Aubrey with worshipful eyes. “But…Dr. Summer, what did you tell Mr. Alfaro about your work?”
The world tilted. Aubrey couldn’t remember. She could remember the strength of his arms around her, the taste of his kiss, the sound of his laughter. She could remember how he made her feel cherished and desired.
Her breath hitched. But it was all a lie.
The elevator alarm buzzed, making them all jump.
“Nothing. I told him nothing…Other than small talk about grafting.” Which was only a small piece of the innovation puzzle. “What about you?”
“Nothing.” Eugene paused and then wobbled his head as if trying to make light of his next words. “I mean, eventually I’m going to have to tell him he needs a better yeast solution, but it’s not as if I’m going to use yours.”
“You bet your sweet patoot you’re not.” Grandma Dotty scowled at Aubrey. “That’s my grandfather’s yeast. Using it without permission would be stealing.”
“Marcos Alfaro isn’t above stealing,” Aubrey said morosely.
Yeast was a living thing, multiplying if cultivated. And she’d sent her yeast blend to Ecuador, among other countries, to be used on this year’s harvests. If Marcos Alfaro stole her yeast, he could easily make more, especially with Eugene in his employ.
If? Her breath hitched.
More like when. Once Marcos Alfaro knew the yeast solution was all he needed, he’d get a sample from one of the farmers Bon Bon Chocolate had contracts with. There would be no competitive advantage. No exclusivity. No higher pay for families. No living wage. And she’d given the growers her word.
“If Marcos gets my yeast, you’ll know, and you’ll be legally bound to tell me,” Aubrey said to Eugene in a very un-Aubrey-like voice, one that was as sharp as a knife to the jugular.
“I have a week to present him with a plan for improving his chocolate. Chances are…” Eugene stood and cleaned his glasses, moving as far away from her as he could. “If Mr. Alfaro pays someone for your yeast, he’ll fire me before I find out and can tell you.”
He’s right.
Aubrey wanted to collapse. The billionaire had bested the nerd. He’d won a piece of her heart and threatened to use it to undermine her career and her family’s company.
Aubrey wanted to return to the lobby, find Nino–Marcos–and tell him how vile he was. She wanted to expose him to everyone in Layla’s wedding party for the lying thief he really was.
But that would only hurt Layla during what should be a happy time.
A man who was trying to romance corporate secrets away from her? He was brazen and full of himself. He wouldn’t care about her accusations or her broken heart.
She had to do more than cast stones. She had to hit Marcos where it hurt. His pride. His wallet. His bottom line.
The elevator door alarm went off again.
It was a wake-up call.
Aubrey stood on shaky legs. She knew what she had to do.
She had to beat Marcos Alfaro at his own game.
Chapter 7
“Mi cielo.” Nino approached Aubrey, looking as lethally handsome as he had the first time she’d laid eyes on him. He wore khaki slacks and a black, short sleeve shirt that was tucked in and belted.
Suddenly, Aubrey’s pink tank and blue batik print skirt felt a little too casual. She gathered her white cotton wrap around her bare shoulders and held herself still as Nino pressed his lips to her cheeks.
The contact jolted Aubrey with a one-two punch. One. Electricity that urged her closer. Two. Shock that urged her to step back. This gorgeous, hunky man was trying to romance her secrets right out of her. She knew it. And yet, she hadn’t counted on their chemistry still being so strong.
“Good evening, Nino.” Aubrey still couldn’t think of Nino as Marcos. She supposed it made it easier to smile at him in a friendly way while she planned to undercut him in a manner yet to be determined. She had to keep her eyes peeled for her opportunity and if that opportunity involved kisses…
I’ll take one for the team.
Aubrey’s hands trembled. Life was so much more predictable in the lab and the greenhouse. Water a plant. It grew upward.
Nino led her to a long, shiny black limousine. The motor was running and so was the air conditioner. After her walk through Quito, Aubrey appreciated the cool interior, but it couldn’t cool her inside. How could she have read this man so wrong?
Once they were seated together in the back, Aubrey’s gaze dropped to Nino’s lips. They were perfect lips, balancing strongly chiseled features.
Nino caught her looking at him and quirked a brow, as if to ask, “Do you want another kiss, mi cielo?”
My heaven? More like my hell. Aubrey was in way over her head. “Not right now.” She pressed her back more firmly in the seat and gazed out the window.
T
he driver took a route that left the more developed part of town and sped through middle class neighborhoods. Tall trees grew in the narrowest of spaces, and brightly colored flowers bloomed in pots and sidewalk gardens, each just familiar enough to tease Aubrey’s memory–walnut, jacaranda, paintbrush, bomarea–but each an exotic variety on the species.
“I’ve made a reservation at a local brew pub.” Nino took her hand and smiled as if it was his goal in life to please her. “There you can hone your sensory skill through experiencing the taste of a finely crafted beer.” He passed his thumb over the back of her hand.
And just like that, Aubrey wanted to kiss him. Gah. Where were her principles? A line she wouldn’t cross? The thread of conversation? Dinner? Beer? Sensory experiences?
His thumb stilled.
Ah, yes. “I can taste just fine,” Aubrey choked out. “I have a hard time distinguishing smells.”
Nino tsked. “The identification of various smells is often learned through taste. I own a vineyard. I once studied to be a sommelier.”
“Of course, you did.” He was an over-achiever. At his odd look, she added, “You are a true renaissance man.”
“Do you know how beer is made?” Nino slipped a hand to the base of her neck, his touch and warmth drawing her closer.
“Yes.” Was that her voice? It sounded husky and seductive. “My great-great grandfather ran a speakeasy in Boca Rotan, Florida. After prohibition ended, he continued to make beer.”
Nino eased her closer.
A more sophisticated woman might have stopped talking. Not Aubrey. “He had a batch of yeast he cultivated, claiming it was his special blend. I swear, whatever jar he used to propagate his slurry, you couldn’t get the smell out of those containers, no matter how many times we tried.” Finally, Aubrey managed to clamp her lips closed, but her eyes were wide open and staring at Nino’s mouth.
“Your knowledge of yeast is impressive. If I am a renaissance man, you are a renaissance woman.” He nuzzled a spot of skin beneath her ear, nudging past her boundaries. “Each member of the wedding party is hosting an event this week. What did you plan? Layla said your event is tomorrow afternoon.” Nino stopped talking and nipped a trail along her neck toward her shoulder.
“Um…” Aubrey’s head fell back against the seat, her resolve slipping along with it. “A chocolate tasting?” Aubrey said breathlessly. Chocolate. She lifted his chin until his eyes were level with hers. “I brought samples from Bon Bon Chocolate, including prototypes of our latest release made in the lab.” The premium chocolate made with her great-great grandfather’s slurry. “And I bought some chocolate made by Caradoc Confections, which is, of course, inferior in every way to Bon Bon’s.”
Nino turned stone-faced. Aubrey mirrored his expression, but inside she was giving herself a slap-happy high five. Nino didn’t like his company’s reputation impinged. He owned many manufacturing businesses. Motorcycles. Textiles. Wine. Cheese. Chocolate. There were plenty of opportunities to make him suffer.
They pulled up in front of a white brick building with wood and ironwork trimmed doors. Once inside, they were ushered immediately to a well-lit table in the back. Nino sat next to her, so close she could feel his heat. He refused the offer of menus and ordered food and flights of beer for them both.
“That was arrogant,” Aubrey said, striving for a tone that was neutral with a noticeable hint of disapproval, the kind a woman who didn’t want to offend Nino might use when miffed. “Why would you think you know what I want to eat?” She shrugged, trying to appear to soften the slight without softening the slight. “It’s something I’d imagine Marcos Alfaro doing.” Aubrey pretended not to notice Nino’s frown as she unrolled her napkin.
“I wanted you to experience an exquisite food and beer pairing,” Nino said in a conciliatory voice with a conciliatory smile.
“Perhaps you should have said that up front.” Aubrey laid her napkin in her lap.
“I didn’t mean to offend, mi cielo.” His black eyes slanted with hurt.
“And I didn’t mean to react so strongly,” Aubrey allowed, softie that she was.
After a few minutes of inconsequential small talk, the waiter brought them each a short wooden tray with three small glasses of beer. Another server brought bottled water and glasses to the table.
Nino gave her a glass. “The one you’re holding has a very strong yeasty smell, like you’d find when you break open a loaf of bread right out of the oven.”
Aubrey knew what fresh bread smelled like. The brew didn’t remind her of fresh baked bread. She didn’t like beer and she didn’t like Marcos Alfaro. But if she refused the experience, he’d know the jig was up. And there was the slight possibility, given his successful instruction regarding the aroma of barbecue on the golf course, that she might learn something.
“And now we sip.” Nino continued his lesson. “There’s a sweetness that lingers in this one. Just a hint. It comes from the malt. If you take another taste and let it sit on your tongue, you might be better able to notice it.”
In Aubrey’s experience, sweet was ice cream or chocolate. But she dutifully tasted a bit of her beer, rolling her tongue around her mouth, not sure if she found any sweetness.
“Very subtle,” Nino said encouragingly. “On the tip of your tongue. Breathe deeply. Fill your lungs with it.”
Aubrey took a third sip, draining the small glass, and then sucking in air. She swallowed. “Is it…It’s in the aftertaste? Almost like a green banana?” A guess. She was probably making a fool of herself.
“Yes.” Nino raised his fists in the air as if Aubrey had scored the game-winning soccer goal.
They tried the second sample of beer, and at Nino’s urging, Aubrey tried to identify its flavor, too.
“Nutty?” Aubrey guessed, grasping at sensory straws after several sips and sniffs. “There is something at the back of my throat and nose?”
“Bravo.” Nino kissed the back of her hand. “You have an untapped gift.”
She beamed at him before remembering he was her enemy. It was easy to fall back into the trap of this attractive, charismatic man when she was receiving his praise.
The third sample was a deep brown.
“It smells like wood,” Aubrey noted before tasting. She took two sips and nearly choked when she tried to breathe deeply with beer in her mouth. When she was finished coughing, she asked, “And…is that vanilla?”
“Let me check,” he said.
She hadn’t noticed that Nino’s arm was resting across her shoulders. He drew her to him for a kiss as intoxicating as the strong brew.
He ended the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. “If vanilla is wonderous and addictive, then yes. That last sample was full of vanilla and I want more.”
Aubrey knew she should resist his words and his touch. But she couldn’t.
Nino would be her downfall, but she would go down in flames.
Chapter 8
“I think Aubrey knows who I am,” Nino said to Mateo in Spanish at the hotel after he’d bid Aubrey goodnight at the elevator. “There was something about the way she spoke to me tonight. It just felt wrong.”
But there had been nothing wrong with her kisses. She had melted in his arms. He’d lost track of time and his agenda, not asking one question about her work.
Mateo gave Nino a familiar look, one that said: You must be kidding me. “It couldn’t have been that you’ve been lying to her all this time and that you feel guilty about it?”
“You make me sound like…” Cantuña. Nino bristled. “Whose side are you on?”
“I like to think yours, but as your paid conscience, I sometimes have to switch sides.” Frown lines were etched in Mateo’s forehead. “I refuse to fault Dr. Summer for being smart enough to identify you.” He smoothed his already smooth hair in place. “Why don’t you just tell Dr. Summer who you really are? Then you can ask her for advice for your company, rather than all this subterfuge.”
“She’ll never help me.�
�� Of this, Nino was certain. “She hates Marcos Alfaro.” She thought Nino had no regrets. That he’d never have regrets.
“But she likes you,” Mateo said firmly. “I’ve seen you together.”
Nino weighed the risk of telling Aubrey the truth against continued deception. Based on their kisses, there was a chance she’d be kind to him. If only she hadn’t mentioned earlier today that her trust was hard won. “She won’t like me after I tell her who I am.”
“She’ll hate Nino and Marcos Alfaro if you’re successful extracting her cocoa secrets,” Mateo pointed out. “You compromised your principles while trying to take over your father’s businesses and force him into bankruptcy. But this isn’t the kind of man you really are. Remember where you came from.”
Deep inside Nino, a shock wave began, more upsetting than Quito’s earthquakes. Fear was at its epicenter. Fear that he’d make a mistake and be forced back to the slums once more. Fear that he’d finally found a business he couldn’t turn around. What did he know about making chocolate? Next to nothing.
And as with any fear, he turned his back on it. “Aubrey is setting up a chocolate tasting tomorrow. I want Caradoc to make a good showing.”
“That will be hard to do considering the quality of chocolate you’ve got on shelf.” Not even Mateo could find something nice to say about Caradoc product.
“Isn’t there a woman on our hotel staff who dips cakes and strawberries in chocolate?” Nino struggled for a name. “Tamika. If we were to dip some of Bon Bon Chocolate’s truffles…”
Nino couldn’t complete the sentence. But he couldn’t take the words back either. Aubrey planned a chocolate tasting with his friends and Caradoc’s product was inferior. Nino did not like knowing that he’d lose.
But this plan…It was something Cantuña would devise.
Nino wondered what it would be like to have a conscience, to have made a life’s work that was worth protecting passionately the way Aubrey talked about defending hers. “I made a deal with the devil.”
And Then He Kissed Me Page 7
