Secret Ingredient: Love by Teresa Southwick Read Free Book Online

groaned.
    “All’s fair in love and war.” She shrugged. “Thank Rosie. She told me tiramisu would be the icing on your cake, so to speak.”
    He sighed deeply. “The temptations just keep on coming.”
    My sentiments exactly, she thought, noting his broad chest and wide shoulders, which did his white cotton shirt proud. If this were a date, they would probably move to the couch in front of the TV. The next course would be exploratory kisses that would escalate to passionate and demanding. Then, in an apartment as small as hers, it was only a hop, skip and a jump to the bedroom. If Alex decided to focus his considerable charm and attention on her, Fran wasn’t certain she’d have the willpower to put on the brakes.
    She had no reason to think he would do that. He’d given her no indication that he even found her attractive. But she felt enough attraction for both of them. And it brought out a peppering of caution. Damn the jerk who had used her and destroyed her trust. But it had happened, and now she couldn’t bring herself to ignore the warning signals.
    Fran was fairly certain that Alex had been about to offer her the job. She was this close to what she had worked so hard to achieve. But she couldn’t ignore her reservations about a close working relationship with him. She had hoped her acute attraction to him was a fluke. This was the third time she’d seen him and it most definitely was not the charm. She wanted the job, but she was afraid her feelings would interfere. All she had to do was figure out a way to broach the subject diplomatically.
    “No meal is complete without dessert. Afterward, we can talk business.” She watched while he digested her suggestion.
    He nodded slowly. “On one condition.”
    How she hated conditions. Why couldn’t he just do it her way? “What?” she asked.
    “That you fix yourself a plate and sit down and relax.”
    “I am relaxed,” she said defensively.
    He laughed. “Yeah. And I play ukulele for the Los Angeles Philharmonic.”
    “I sense that you don’t believe me.”
    “It wasn’t a criticism, Fran. Just an observation. I’d be skeptical if you weren’t nervous. You said yourself that this is a job interview.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “We can put off business talk. Or you can fix yourself a plate. I’ll have dessert. And we can discuss your reservations while we eat.”
    “This isn’t negotiable?” she asked.
    “Only whether or not you pick up your fork before you listen to my offer.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a lazy grin. “I don’t want to be accused of being the boss from hell.”
    “Not likely,” she muttered.
    “What?”
    “Not like me to pass up food,” she amended. “A moment on the lips, forever on the hips. A digital scale should be a staple in every chef’s kitchen.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with your figure,” he commented.
    “Thank you.” It was hardly even a compliment, but he’d put a smile in her heart.
    As she lifted a plate from the cupboard, she mentally threw flame retardant chemicals on the internal glow his words produced. Had he really noticed her shape? Did he like what he saw? Was she his type? Did he have a type? She struggled to put away her curiosity as she took small portions of each entrée and salad that she’d prepared. Then she placed his dessert in front of him. Finally, she took her food and sat down across the table. Suddenly, the forty-two inch diameter didn’t seem nearly wide enough.
    She took a bite or two before realizing that she was starved. She’d been running on nerves all day in preparation for this interview, and hadn’t had the time or inclination to eat much. Everything tasted good.
    “Now then,” he started. “What’s wrong?”
    Fran didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She hadn’t been acting like herself. She owed him an explanation, or at least as much of one as she could give him without making a complete fool of herself.
    “Before I answer that question, I think