Her sister frowned. “You don’t seem to like him much.”
“He’s a good chef.” She kept her eyes fixed on the paper.
“You really think so?”
“Of course.”
“Have you told him?”
Frankie looked up. “Sorry?”
“Nate. In case you haven’t noticed, he doesn’t look real happy. Have you told him how much you appreciate his work?”
“I’ve tried. But I’ll give it another shot.”
“Good. I’m heading up.” Joy lifted her hand and disappeared.
Frankie shuffled papers for a few minutes and then decided to grab the bull by the horns and go talk to him.
But the kitchen was empty. Everything was in its place, the dishwasher was churning over a load, the stainless steel counters were wiped clean.
She headed upstairs. His door was open, his light was off, his bed empty.
Where was he?
Frankie went back down to the kitchen. The house was quiet, the guests having gone to bed early to sleep off their sunburns and swim-sore muscles. She went outside through the back door, hoping to find him on one of the porches.
The night was a tender one, the breeze off the lake gentle, the moon glowing overhead. But he wasn’t in any of the wicker chairs and she was about to turn around when she saw him, twenty yards away, standing on the dock. He had his hands on his h*ps and was looking down into the water. She started across the lawn.
And stopped when he took off his shirt. He tossed it behind him carelessly. Then shed his pants, too. There were no boxers or briefs for him to remove.
Good God, his backside was fantastic.
She put her hand over her mouth, thinking she really shouldn’t wonder what the front of him looked like. But, oh, man, she could just imagine.
What a beautiful, powerful, n**ed man. He was like something out of a fantasy, drenched in moonlight, the lake sparkling around him.
Nate glanced over his shoulder.
And caught her red-handed. Her heart rate spiked even more, if that was possible, and she wondered how she was going to explain herself. Yeah, see, I was just out for a little stroll and, ah, damn, you’re built like a Greek statue, did you know that?
But he showed no interest in her at all. Just turned back around and dove into the lake with a clean slice.
Frankie frowned, and as tempting as it was to race back to the house, she decided to be a grown-up. She went down to the dock, as if seeing a man who looked as good as he did in his birthday suit happened to her every night.
He stroked out some distance and then rolled over on his back. If he was surprised that she’d taken a seat on the dock, he didn’t show it.
“Something wrong?” he drawled. As if that would be the only reason she’d seek him out.
Nothing’s wrong, she thought. Other than the fact that the image of his butt was now tattooed onto the backs of her eyelids. Every time she blinked, she kept seeing that tight—
“In a manner of speaking,” she said huskily.
Yup, tonight was going to be such fun. Laying in the dark. Seeing his bare ass on her ceiling.
“Let’s hear it then.” He swam to the dock and hefted his upper body out of the water. His forearms supported his weight while the bottom half of him stayed in the lake.
This she could deal with. All she had to do was forget he didn’t have a bathing suit on. It wasn’t like she could see anything.
Although, jeez, his shoulders were magnificent, the muscles straining under his skin. His hair was slicked back from his face, making his eyes seem fierce and his jaw especially hard. Or maybe that was all because of his mood.
She cleared her throat. “I want to thank you for all your hard work. I can’t believe how business has picked up.”
“You’re welcome.”
There was a long silence. She glanced down at her hands. “And I want to apologize for how defensive I got up on the mountain. Even though we have to keep things professional, you really were just trying to be nice and I basically bit your head off.”
“No problem.” His tone was bored.
“I should have handled that better.”
“Forget it. I have.”
He dropped back into the water, pushed off the dock and floated backwards.
Now why did that have to sting, she thought.
“Yeah. Well.” She pulled the scrunchie out of her hair and played with it.
“There anything else you have to say?”
“Ah, no.”
“Then you better head up to the house. I’m about to get out of this water and I can’t imagine you’re going to want to be sitting there when I do.”
She closed her eyes, picturing him emerging from the lake, water droplets clinging to his skin. He would come over to her and urge her down onto the dock, getting her clothes wet as he laid on top of her and kissed her—
“Good night, Frankie,” he muttered.
She nodded, stood up and walked back to the house. Looking at the sky, she thought the night didn’t feel the same. She wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn’t quite so warm anymore.
Chapter Nine
W hen Nate went down to the kitchen at five o’clock the next morning, he was thinking about whipping up some mousseline sauce. He wanted to cook something tricky. He wanted to get caught up in deftly manipulating temperature, in coaxing egg yolks and butter and flour into a sublime accompaniment for veal.
Because in the last couple of days, he’d lost his sense of humor, his ability to sleep through the night, and any semblance of equilibrium.Damn it, but he couldn’t get that woman out of his head. He vacillated between wanting to yell at her, needing to beg, or thanking the Lord she had the sense to put a wall up between them. And her little visit last night when he’d been skinny-dipping had been the kicker.
Because water, when running over n**ed skin, felt a lot like a woman’s hands. Especially when the female you wanted was sitting on the dock in front of you.
As if he needed the flipping reminder that he was desperate for her. Even though she was resolute about keeping them apart, he just couldn’t seem to let the attraction go. First of all, he saw her every day. And even though he pretended to be busy as hell whenever she passed through the kitchen, he always watched her out of the corner of his eye. Talk about a recipe for disaster. He’d almost cut off his pinkie last night with a butcher’s knife. And making things worse, he was sharing a bathroom with her. So every time he went in to take a shower, he thought about her naked, soaping herself down with the same bar he was using on his own body.
Man, if he didn’t snap out of it, he was going to cut something off that wouldn’t grow back. And have to start bathing in the lake.
At least this wouldn’t last forever, he thought, opening the walk-in. Spike was on his way back to New York to scout out another place. And whether it was the right one or not, Labor Day would eventually come.
As Nate stepped into the cool, his eye caught a tomato that had rolled into a far corner. When he picked it up, the skin broke and the insides oozed all over his hand. The thing was rotted out, had probably been there for weeks.
This was totally unacceptable. One thing CIA had drilled into him was the importance of a clean kitchen. He should have done a complete scrub on the damn thing the moment he took over, but he’d been busy dealing with other stuff.
Like his fixation on his boss.
It took him close to a half hour to empty the walk-in, and when he was done, the kitchen looked like a farmer’s market. There were squash and zucchini sticking out of pasta pots, corn still in the husks lined up on the table, heads of cauliflower and broccoli seated in chairs. He took the crates and steel bins the vegetables had been sitting in and hit them with the industrial spray nozzle that hung on the side of the dishwasher. Inside the walk-in, he disinfected the floor and every shelf with a bleach and lemon solution.
Then he started to tackle the kitchen floor. He was down on his hands and knees, his head wedged between the stove and the counter, his arm pushed back as far as he could force it, when he heard Joy’s voice.
“My God, what brought this on?”
Your sister and her asinine need to be left alone, he thought.
Nate straightened, dragging the cloth towards him on the tile. It was black with filth when he picked it up. “I’m surprised you made it through state inspection. This place needs to be hosed down.”
Joy leaned a hip against the island. “Can I help?”
“Go out and say good morning to Stu.” He nodded at the window, to the truck that had just pulled up. “He’s way early.”
Stu and Joy did their best to arrange the new produce on what remained of the counter space and then Joy went into the office to get a check, while Nate told the man what they’d need for the next delivery. Stu had just taken off when frantic footsteps were heard from overhead.
“Frankie must be up,” Joy said, glancing to the ceiling.
Nate was swallowing a curse when a man in a bathrobe burst into the kitchen from the dining room.
“There is an old woman in our bedroom! And she’s cornered my wife!”
“Oh, no, Grand-Em.” Joy rushed over. “I’m so sorry. She’s utterly harmless.”
“She has a hammer!”
Nate started to run after them, but Joy stopped him. “It’s better if I deal with it.”
She was so sure of herself that he deferred to her command, overriding his instinct to help by getting back on his knees and rinsing out the rag. He was reaching behind the stove again when he heard a hiss that brought his head up. Frankie stood at the foot of the stairs, staring in disbelief at the chaos. Her hair was damp and she’d frozen in the process of tying it back.
“Tell me the walk-in didn’t die,” she said.
“Walk-in’s fine.”
“Did Stu come already?”
“Just left.”
“My God, what have you done?” He frowned as she marched up to the vegetables that were choking the island. The helpless, panicked look on her face quickly changed into anger. “Was Stu paid?”
“Of course.”
“With what?” she demanded.
Their eyes clashed as he got off the floor. “Rubles.”
“You think this is funny?”
“Not in the slightest.”
She jabbed a finger at him. “I thought you and I agreed you would submit orders through me.”
“And. I. Did,” he said through gritted teeth, not appreciating her tone.
“So what’s all this? You don’t have the authority to place orders or accept deliveries. You’re way out of line.”
“Excuse me?” He put his palms flat on the stainless steel and leaned over a thicket of romaine.
“What the hell do you think we’re going to do with all this food? The walk-in is full already.”
Trying not to explode, Nate looked down at the floor that he’d been prepared to spend the next hour scrubbing.
“Screw this,” he muttered and went for the door. He wasn’t sure where he was headed. As long as it was away from her, he didn’t care if he ended up walking to Canada.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t deal with you right now.”
“But what about this mess?”
He threw the back door open. “Clean it up yourself or let it rot. I don’t give a damn.”
Frankie’s heart was going like a snare drum as Nate walked out on her. She looked around the kitchen, taking in a fortune in produce that was gradually wilting, and almost burst into tears. She could only imagine how much it had all cost and confronting the mammoth order was like being sucker punched.This was precisely what she’d wanted to avoid. Some hotshot chef thinking he was the second coming and overdoing it. Still, she was surprised. Somehow she’d thought Nate understood the kind of financial constraints they were operating under. Especially after what she’d told him on the mountain.