Hot to the Touch

So Darcy wasn’t likely to win any intimacy awards.

“What about the chef who encouraged you?”

“God, yes, without him I’d probably be an abused-wife drunk.” She shuddered at the thought, then turned in Troy’s arms. “Enough of me. I want to hear your stories. Unless you’ve always had perfect relationships, then keep it to yourself.”

His eyes were warm. “If I’d had perfect relationships I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“Good point.” She touched his cheek, rough with stubble. “I’m glad they sucked.”

He grinned. “This is the first time I’ve ever said this, but so am I.”

“Tell me.” She traced the fine arch of his eyebrows, drew her finger gently down the noble line of his nose to his lips, which opened and gently closed around her first knuckle.

“There’s not much to say. I’ve had unhealthy patterns, too. Never got it right.”

“So we’re relationship misfits.”

“Looks that way.”

She contemplated the masculine beauty of his face, absently thinking someone should do a sculpture of him. “So why don’t we be together as much as we want and not call it a relationship, so we can’t screw it up.”

He laughed. “You know, I think that might work.”

“Good.” She grinned and launched herself on top of him, snuggling down on his broad chest, feeling his arms come tightly around her, acknowledging, yes, that just maybe Marie was a little bit right, and this was what she wanted.

“Just don’t forget that because of a man you’re a brilliant, unique success in town. That’s something to celebrate.”

“Not unique for long.” She wished the words back immediately. He’d want to know more about Raoul, she’d have to tell him, and he’d either tell her what to do or not see what she was worried about.

“Tell me more about that guy. Why did you have to fire him?”

Darcy sighed and told him. How Raoul had come to the restaurant in all his bad-boy sexy glory, flirted shamelessly with Darcy. She’d felt pretty hot, pretty special, until she caught him in the linen storage room with Alice. And until Ace reported missing steaks and expensive cheeses, some of which were eventually discovered in the back of Raoul’s truck, where Ace had “happened” to climb to get some springtime sunshine. Ace was also a guy she could depend on. That made two. Troy might be a solid third.

When she got to the part where Raoul landed the backing of James Thomas who’d laughed Darcy out of his office for the same request, and the details about Raoul’s restaurant concept being so similar to hers, Troy went very quiet and very still.

“Doesn’t play nice.”

“Ya think?” She shrugged. “Nothing I can do. He’s totally within his rights. No copyright on restaurant concepts, and business is business.”

“It still stinks.”

She nodded, waiting. He hadn’t done either of the Expected Man Things, hadn’t told her what to do or ignored her worries. Promising. Definitely.

“Seems to me, though, if you keep your quality up the way you’re already doing, people will still come, even if he does do well. Different neighborhood, different cook. Is he any good?”

“Under me he did what he was told, to make the dishes I created. That was his job.”

“Mmm, I have never tasted your food, but I do love the way you cook…” He trailed his hand down her abdomen and lower, sending a shiver of arousal through her. Again! Twice the previous evening, once in the middle of the night, already this morning. She could see why women liked younger men. “I bet you have nothing to worry about with this guy.”

“I’d still like him out of the picture. Can you arrange that?”

“Sure. Um, but how about later…” His fingers started working magic between her legs. Darcy opened to him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and welcomed him on top of her. Nothing to worry about? Hardly.

But today at least, Troy had made her feel wonderful, respected her, didn’t insist on commitment, reassured her he wasn’t capable of violence, didn’t dismiss her fears about Raoul….