Sweets to the Sweet by Jennifer Greene Read Free Book Online

Sunshine caught in his hair, glinted in the dark strands, sparkled in his eyes when he turned to her. For a moment, she simply studied him, surprised at how much she liked the man. “Every instinct tells me you trained your brother and sister exceedingly well, long before you temporarily gave up the reins of control. And you said you had an experienced staff.”
    “True. I still can’t stand it,” he murmured. “I have to see that things are going well.”
    She laughed; he delighted in the sound and reluctantly moved toward the door. He was leaving—and not because of work, though he’d deliberately given her that impression. To stay any longer simply wasn’t wise. It had taken an hour to erase the wariness in her eyes, an hour to make her comfortable enough to tease him.
    His family kept telling him he needed to learn to play again, and he knew they were right. Business crises and challenges and competition had always been puzzle pieces on a board for Owen, the tougher the better. His mistake had been to make work his whole life, and it wasn’t enough. Not anymore. He wanted and needed a private life.
    And a woman. He’d had a variety of relationships over the years, and some of them had been good. None had filled that elusive niche, but perhaps that had been his own fault. It was too easy for him to take charge of a relationship, to keep the controls, and he’d always seemed to gravitate toward women who wanted just that from him. Strength, though, could be a double-edged sword. No man was always strong, and dammit, he had more faults than most.
    He wanted a woman he could be honest with. Who could accept his faults as he tried to change and grow. A woman capable of total commitment, as he was; a woman who wasn’t intimidated by the take-charge tendencies he knew he had to temper; a woman who was even a little too proud. He understood pride.
    And the woman with turquoise eyes had already stirred his soul. “Laura? Did I tell you about the chemical composition of chocolates?”
    “No.” She cocked her head curiously, leaning over the cedar rail as he went down the steps.
    “Chocolate has small amounts of a substance called phenylethylamine. Actually, that’s a natural chemical that’s also produced in the brain—under certain conditions.”
    “What conditions?”
    “Reach down with your hand and I’ll show you.”
    With a quizzical frown, she did so. His fingers reached out and touched hers, tip to tip. No more. Just the pressure of the pads of their fingers, just the hold he established by eye-to-eye contact, just the heat that suddenly flowed between them, hotter than flame, more fragile than sunlight.
    “That chemical naturally occurs,” Owen gently informed her, “when two people are falling in love. Touch isn’t even always required. It still happens. My chemist claims phenylethylamine is a natural aphrodisiac, if you believe in that kind of thing.”
    She jerked her hand back, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t!”
    “No?” He smiled, then turned and strode to his car.
    “Owen!”
    He didn’t turn back.
    “Owen, don’t. You’re crazy. I just had a baby; you know that!”
    “Just nibble on that chocolate,” he called out to her as he opened his car door. “I’ll be back, Laura.”
     
    He was back the next morning, and the next, and the next. He didn’t mention aphrodisiacs again, and he didn’t touch her, but by Saturday the refrigerator contained a small mountain of delicate treats. A white-chocolate unicorn, a milk chocolate tulip, a cameo in creamy white and darkest dark. He couldn’t possibly understand what those small gifts did to her. Did a friend offer a drink to an alcoholic? A cigarette to a reformed smoker? Owen wasn’t kind.
    Laura served him coffee and mutinously folded diapers while he made himself at home. She made brilliant efforts at looking terrible. That wasn’t hard. Finding time to comb her hair took miracles, between night feedings, day feedings, trying to