Burned Deep (Burned 1)

The server returned a few minutes later with a freestanding chiller.

“Watch this,” Dane said, a hint of intrigue in his voice. “Miyanaga is an expert at serving champagne.”

The other man stood back from the table and made a production out of removing the foil and wire cage with precise movements. Then he whipped out a short sword from the sheath I hadn’t even realized was strapped to his waist. He pointed the bottle toward the grounds, away from us, and placed the blade flat against the seam, sliding it slowly up to the flange. Then he swiftly and efficiently sabered the neck.

The cork went flying, Miyanaga bowed, and I clapped enthusiastically. I was certain someone had been hired specifically to retrieve the corks from the courtyard—and probably had a haughty French title to go with the position.

To Dane, I said, “How’d I know this wouldn’t be a normal evening?”

chapter 4

Mischief made Dane’s eyes sparkle. “Life’s too short to settle for normal.”

I cringed. I was normal. There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about me. Except that I could take ten hodgepodge ideas and turn them into one glamorous or intimate spot-on wedding.

Yet the way Dane looked at me, the way he watched me, made me feel as though he actually did find something fascinating here. I wished he’d tell me what it was.

Miyanaga wrapped a linen napkin around the bottle and splashed a sample of champagne into a delicate flute for me to sip.

“Cristal,” I ventured, having a fairly defined palate, given my profession.

He revealed the label and I nodded my approval. He poured for both of us.

Dane tipped the rim of his glass to mine and said, “To your health—à votre santé.”

Miyanaga returned the bottle to the bucket and asked, “May I serve?”

My very sexy host gave me a keen look. I nodded again.

We started with Blue Point oysters, which happened to be my favorite variety; perhaps I’d mentioned that in the bridal magazine feature?

As I sprinkled the shallot-and-red-wine vinaigrette on one, I asked, “Why’d you choose Sedona for the Lux?”

“The seclusion of the canyons. I like the temperate, sometimes moody weather as well, and the fact that we’re far removed from a bright-lights-big-city atmosphere, where guests can lose themselves in the beauty of their surroundings without too much hindrance from the outside world.”

I knew from experience that cell reception in this general area was sketchy. And calls dropped farther along the outskirts of town where the signals were nil, particularly in the box canyons. Every time I worked a wedding at the Enchantment Resort, not far from here, I had to use resort-issued walkie-talkies to communicate with staff and critical bridal-party points of contact, because our cells were useless. Even in the age of smartphones and satellite service. Some claimed it was a result of our infamous vortices. I just figured we lacked for towers.

Oysters were followed by the richest, creamiest lobster bisque in small, artsy bowls. Next came an exquisite salad of heirloom beets, goat cheese, figs, and pecans.

Our entreé arrived and my stomach did a little happy dance over bone-in rib eye with the most aromatic crab béarnaise sauce drizzled over the prime cut, and accompanied by grilled asparagus spears.

“Oooh.” I all but salivated when the plate was set before me.

As if Dane didn’t serve as the most exciting stimulant known to womankind, he sent me over the edge with decadent aphrodisiacs. Between him and the food, I practically melted off my chair. I knew he was trying to impress me with the chef’s talents, but Dane’s selections were all at the top of my list. Prompting me to ask, “How did you know…?”

He gave a wicked smirk that did me in. I had to tamp down the moan bubbling in my throat. And what continued to happen between my legs was altogether scandalous.

Dane said, “I do my homework. I never enter negotiations without knowing exactly what I’m getting into and exactly what I want to get out of it.”

I stared at him, completely caught off guard. Why was he so good at that when I’d devoted so much time to being cognizant of any potential surprise coming my way?

“I didn’t realize we were in the midst of negotiations,” I said, my tone tentative. “We haven’t really talked about the position.”

He sliced smoothly into his steak, chewed a bit, washed it down with champagne. Meanwhile, my stomach begged for the same, but apprehension whirled within me and I set aside my flatware.

Dane frowned. “I had that specially prepared for you.”

“I’m aware of that and I appreciate the gesture,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though my pulse was totally off the charts. Clearly, he’d learned enough about me to know my preferences. Though flattering, it was a bit unsettling.