sed to this, she told herself, immensely pleased to have found an aspect of her n

ithout an heirloom engagement ring at

t Decadence. In her first week as lunch manager, she'd learned to time her breaks to catch ten minutes of the show as Kristof

a dampened kitchen towel. He removed the cover of the food processor he'd used to chop the high-quality French chocolate he insisted o

for a second or two because she was distracted with comparing Kit's

the contact was as sharp and sensual as a swallow of chocolate-laced amaretto cream. She could ga

erself, thinking of her pact with M

conds flat. He scraped them into the food processor, hi

lips, but her tongue was parched

She grinned back at him, not even trying to hide her interest. Let him think she was a wanna-be chef or a slavering chocoholic.

he inside of her loose V-neck tank to blot the dampness on her chest. The kitchen was

s more than made up for the slight lack of height. He had black hair that was one week's growth away from sha

's female population, his

ly whenever he lapsed into a moment of silent brooding. He didn't talk a lot when he cooked-or any other time, for that matter-but he was quick with a smile or a jo

single member of the kitchen crew or serving staff had a bad word to say about him, but none of them knew his story either. She'd asked outright-asked everyone but Kit. The essenc

with Mackenzie, was si

herself with watching Kit make his chocolate desserts. Ev

elted butter across it, then looked over at Sabrina. "Want to help?" Practicall

e between her teeth,

r here be

like bittersweet chocolate, darkly sweet and delicious. Gobble, g

e pastry strip. He showed her how to fold the corner into a triangle, then again onto itself, co

she transferred the pastr

a natura

r. The other chefs tended be high-strung and easily annoyed, so she'd learned to stay out of their way. Bu

il

, h

r. She didn't like it. True, she had no intentions of hooking up with Kit. N

ce for a few minutes until the first pan was filled with neat rows of the triangles. Now and then, their elbows bumped or their hands brushed and Sabrin

that led out to the dining room. "Sabrina, your sister's here." She looked at Sabrina's but

ad smart mouths, food tattoos and opposite tastes in men. Despite kooky pink hair and a Persephone's pomegranate on the s

ng the phyllo dough pliable. "I'll be there

ooked at Kit and laughed, flashing the silver stud in her tongue

er again. She gulped, too aware of the heat flushing her cheek

sister a sample, fresh fr

rippling flesh-she'd let Sabrina out of the "no men" part of their deal. Mackenzie was rea

ers from a small fridge. She uncapped one of them and took a long swig of the icy liquid to soothe her parched throat as she surveyed the activity in the

he restaurant's gourmet menu, hip reputation and a parade of well-heeled patrons who liked to rub shoulders with the funkier creative types.

rs. "What happened? Your hair's still long." She'd made an appointment for Mackenzie at a Madison

en across her face. "I'm sorry.

nt? I won't mention how hard it is to find authentic Victorian lace-ups in my size." Sabrina's feet

h with it," Mackenzie said

o with you to h

, pl