A Taste of Temptation (Las Vegas Nights 3)

None of which felt quite right. When they’d first approached him, Ashton had known exactly what he wanted to do. But as the negotiations lengthened, the more he learned about their concept for the show, the less confident he was that it was the sort of thing he wanted to do. And yet, the opportunity to take his career to the next level was a temptation he couldn’t reject out of hand.

Once he’d settled Dae in his new apartment, Ashton returned to the hotel. Dae’s questions had prodded him into action.

He was beginning to wonder if they would ever see eye to eye on this project and what would happen if they didn’t. After his last round of recipes had been rejected by the producers as too exotic, Ashton was finding it hard to come up with anything that excited him. Was it supposed to be this hard? Ashton didn’t remember ever having to struggle like this to make anything happen in his career. Sure, he’d worked hard. Pushed himself to the limits of his energy and beyond. During his years filming The Culinary Wanderer, he’d been chilled to the bone, taken shelter from a tropical storm in a shallow cave, broken his arm, sprained his knee and been grazed by a ricocheting bullet. In the days before he’d landed his first television show, he’d worked for arrogant chefs who’d made his life hell but hadn’t cared because it had been all about the food.

This was different. The executives of Lifestyle Network weren’t thinking about good food or interesting stories—they wanted big numbers, and to them that meant doing something everyone could relate to. Ashton didn’t think that would ever play to his strengths. Unless Vince was right and they were just hiring him to up their beefcake quotient.

The thought both amused and horrified him.

Ashton pushed aside the notes he’d been scribbling for the show and went to work on the more immediate problem. Figuring out Batouri’s menu. Harper would expect culinary perfection and a cohesive plan for how that would happen. Impressing her should have been secondary in his thoughts. But he liked what happened when she dropped her guard and that only happened when he surprised her.

Unfortunately, an hour after sitting down with his thick notebook filled with recipes he’d gathered over the years, inspiration still eluded him. He was on the verge of picking ten at random when he heard the clink of china and looked up as Harper slid into the booth opposite him.

* * *

When Harper first entered the restaurant and spotted Ashton at the corner table he seemed to prefer, she realized they were both stuck in a rut. Him, sitting in the dim restaurant brooding. Her, tracking him down like some infatuated groupie. Which she was. But her reasons for coming here were a little more complicated than simple hero worship.

Last night, she’d left the restaurant feeling calmer and more grounded than when she’d arrived. Perhaps he wasn’t the most reliable or altruistic man she’d ever met, but his brand of roguish charm had provided a much-needed distraction.

Today he was bent over a notebook, a cup of coffee at his elbow. It was the first time she’d ever seen him this utterly focused on his work. Usually he was a whirling dervish of energy. Flamboyant and passionate while interviewing chefs, directing staff in the bright stainless-steel kitchen or conveying his vision for the decor, gesturing broadly to emphasize whatever point he was trying to make.

As she studied him, some of her anxiety faded. Even sitting still, his body hummed with energy. Yet last night, he’d been an oasis of peace in her otherwise chaotic day. The experience had surprised her. She’d stayed to chat with him, looking to be distracted for a little while. With Scarlett’s teasing still occupying her thoughts, was it any wonder she’d been contemplating what being with him would be like?

She’d assumed all he could offer her would be mind-blowing sex with no strings. Her perception had changed when he shared that he’d left home at fifteen and never looked back. She was certain this was something few knew. Why had he given her a glimpse of the man behind the celebrity? He was more complicated than she’d imagined and that spurred her fascination with him to new heights. It also made tumbling into bed with him a lot riskier than she’d first thought.

Her head told her to turn around and walk out the door. Life had become complicated enough without falling for Ashton Croft. But curiosity drove her forward. She simply had to know what he was working on.

Grabbing a cup from the wait station as she passed, she slid into the booth beside Ashton. He’d been lost in thought, but looked up as the cushion shifted with her weight. Without questioning her reason for joining him, he took her cup and filled it with coffee from the stainless-steel airpot.

“Checking up on me?”

“Do I need to?”

“Probably.” He flipped through the notebook, displaying pages filled with his bold handwriting. “I’m going a dozen different directions.”

“I never expected you to second-guess yourself.” She pulled his notebook toward her. “I always picture you jumping off the cliff without checking to see if there’s a safer way down.”

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me a little.”

His claim made her grin. “Then my work here is done.”

“Not even close. You need to help me finalize my menu.”

“Me?”

“For someone who doesn’t eat, you have one of the best palates I’ve ever known.”

“I eat,” she protested. “I just make sure it’s healthy. And I exercise a lot. Running helps me think.”

“If you ask me, you need to spend less time in your head.”

“I don’t remember asking you.” Her mild tone kept harshness out of the retort. “But that hasn’t stopped you from offering your opinion in the past.”

“Stop trying to provoke me and pick a dish that appeals to you.”

Resisting a grin, Harper focused on Ashton’s notebook. She’d never had a relationship where she felt comfortable being playful. In New York the men she dated were serious types whose pedigrees would satisfy her mother. Ashton didn’t fit that mold. And her grandfather’s opinion of him was what mattered to her. Henry Fontaine appreciated Ashton’s rise from humble beginnings. Her grandfather had built his hotel empire through hard work, too.

After a while, Harper found herself unable to choose a single dish from the recipes he’d jotted down, which only caused her admiration for Ashton to grow. Each dish sounded better