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  “No wonder you look so great.”

  “Thanks.”

  He flexed his biceps and Taryn wondered if it was an involuntary reaction to her compliment or an intended attempt to show off.

  “I’ll admit, all that hard work paid off. Besides, turns out I really like it. There’s something about going in and fighting that beast that really gets to me.”

  “That’s really cool. I’m happy for you. And I bet you also have all the girls wanting you to come in and save them.”

  “Yeah, you know I thought that was all myth and rumors and exaggerated stories, but it’s true. A lot of women fantasize… well, you know.”

  “Why, Matt Mininger. Are you blushing?” She reached out to playfully tap his hand.

  He quickly took advantage of the move and gripped her fingers in his. “I can honestly say, I’ve never benefited from that fantasy.”

  “You're a good looking guy, Matt. I’m sure it’s not for lack of offers.”

  Grinning, he took her hand fully into his. “I’m happy I ran into you. It’s a very pleasant surprise, Taryn.”

  “I’m happy to see you, too.” As the words came out, she suddenly thought of Errol. He’d changed so much of who she was and how she viewed men. Looking at Matt now, she couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under that firefighter blue. She wondered if he was gentle, romantic and giving, or was he a ravenous animal who liked it rough, liked it loud, liked it a little on the painful side.

  “What about you? I bet you got a ton of marriage proposals from those suave Frenchmen.”

  Proposal, yes, but not for marriage. “I didn’t really have time to socialize much. I was taking some pretty heavy duty cooking classes in a culinary institute and it didn’t leave me with much free time. Whenever I wasn’t in class, I was at home in the kitchen working on some new technique or a new recipe idea I’d had. I thought I knew a lot about cooking until I learned how little I knew. In addition to that, getting around Paris wasn’t always easy. I came to know a few of the streets between where I lived and the institute, but not much beyond that. And besides, the language barrier made it a little complicated. You know, just when you think you’ve said ‘no’ to a guy’s invitation, it turns out you just said you were free to see him.” She realized she was saying too much, and making too many excuses, but couldn’t stop herself. “The weather was nice, though, for the most part and I did have the chance to take in a museum or two. And of course the Eiffel Tower. The elevator ride up is spectacular, and, did you know there’s a restaurant up there? Really nice. A special place to…” Her voice cracked as she was engulfed in a sudden wave of emotion.

  That day with Errol, it’d been so amazing. Was that the day she’d truly fallen for him? Was that the day she saw beyond the brash chef and the harsh professor, and simply saw a beautiful man?

  Yes, the beautiful man who, in the end, wanted only a fuck buddy.

  “You okay?” Matt squeezed her hand.

  With her free hand she wiped away a stray tear. “Oh, I guess Paris affected me more than I realized,” she said with a shaky voice. “It’s so easy to get caught up in the romanticism of it all. I guess I miss it more than I expected.”

  “You know, New York has some pretty fascinating places, too.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to be back.”

  “I bet I could show you a few places in New York that you never even knew about… some pretty fantastic and, yes, even romantic places.”

  “You're sweet, Matt.” She quickly caught the dismay in his eyes. What guy wants to be called sweet by the girl he has a crush on? “I appreciate you trying to cheer me up.”

  “If you give me a chance, I think I could make you forget all about Paris.”

  She looked directly into his eyes and was surprised by the intensity behind them. Maybe he wasn’t so sweet after all. “You know what? I might just take you up on that offer.”

  Chapter 3

  Though that first day at the restaurant nearly had Taryn crawling home on all fours, she managed to pace herself better the next day. She went to bed earlier than she had gotten into the habit of in Paris, and cut out the wine with dinner.

  Within that first week, she’d fallen into a routine that was exhilarating and fulfilling. On weekends, she shared duties with Bobby, while during the week she swapped places. They were like a pro-wrestling tag team, one coming in just as the other had to leave.

  They both knew the other’s strengths and weaknesses and therefore prepared the kitchen accordingly. Taryn prepared the sauces, which always gave Bobby a hard time, while Bobby took care of some of the heavier work, like tending to the larger pots and pans, and dealing with cuts of beef.

  Matt came in regularly and always had a cute and flirtatious word to say to her.

  “So when are you going to take me up on my offer?” he’d said after three weeks. He’d sneaked a peek into the kitchen and caught her as she sautéed mushrooms with one hand and grilled a steak with the other. Leaning casually against the doorjamb, he’d looked her over.

  “Matt,” Taryn had chastised, “you can’t just walk in here and give me the once over while I have a full plate in my hands. I’m likely to make a mess… an expensive mess.”

  “Fair enough,” he said with his usual wicked grin. “But it’s nice to know I have that effect on you.”

  As she put the finishing touch to the plate she was preparing, Taryn smiled at the thought of him. He’d quickly become the soothing balm that eased the pain of her breakup with Errol, and she always looked forward to seeing him. She’d come to know his shifts at the fire house by heart.

  He’d worked the day shift that day and would probably be stopping by for dessert and that persistent invitation to visit New York. Some day she would have to set aside a bit of time to spend with him outside the walls of the restaurant.

  “Taryn,” Samantha called out. “Someone liked your whiskey braised cutlet so much, they want to thank you in person. Table six.”

  “Really?” Excited by the response to her new recipe, Taryn took her prepared plate and nodded at the Marla. “I’ll take this one out. Table twelve, right?”

  “Right.”

  Taryn flowed through the crowded restaurant, proud of how things had been going since she’d come back. The place had grown busy while she’d been in Paris, and had grown busier still since her return. The few new items she’d added to the menu had been highly praised and well received.

  With the proud disposition of the finest chef in the fanciest restaurant, she arrived at table twelve, served the waiting patron with a smile and a quick ‘bon appetite’ and headed to table six for her much needed pat on the back. Giddy like a child awaiting his trophy at the end of a relay race, she tried to contain her explosive smile.

  “Hello, sir. You wanted to see me about…” Her jaw dropped and her heart flipped over three times in quick succession. “Errol.” She didn’t know if she was pleased or angry.

  His eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Taryn?!” He instantly stood and extended his arms to take her then awkwardly retracted them and left them hanging at his side. “You? Here? I… And you did…” He gestured toward his empty plate. “You're the one who…?”

  A few other patrons had turned to look their way. “Yes,” she said demurely. “I learned a lot of what I know and put to use here while I was in Paris.”

  He grinned, his playful gaze taking her in, drinking her up and savoring the sight of her. “You…” As his disbelieving gaze continued to sweep over her, he swallowed and seemed at a loss for words. “You look wonderful. Radiant, actually.”

  The softness of his voice, filled with regret, touched her, and she couldn’t help taking in his tall muscular body, his large biceps and sexy butt covered in tight expensive slacks; but she remained wary. “What brings you to New York?”

  “I have to make an appearance at La Benicoise tomorrow night.” He shrugged with annoyance. “Part of the perks
and peeves of owning a world renowned restaurant.”

  She glanced around her own busy restaurant. “Yeah… perks and peeves.”

  “I wonder if… You're working. You must be pretty busy. I… Maybe later…”

  “Thank you for respecting my decision, Errol,” she said as she sensed where he was going.

  He cleared his throat and seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “Of course. And… I hope you don’t think I planned…”

  “No. I know La Benicoise isn’t too far from here. I guess I should feel honored you stopped here when you have so many places to choose from.”

  “A happy accident all due to a bellhop.”

  “A bellhop?”

  “I asked him where the hottest new restaurant was and he said Sam’s.”

  “Really? Wow. How cool is that?”

  “Pretty cool, I’d say.” He smiled, warm and engaging, the curls of his hair nearly touching his dimples.

  Her heart ached and she longed to reach out and touch him, but feared all the emotions that would come with it. “Look,” she said as she shot a quick glance around the restaurant. “I have to get back to work. We’re in near chaos back there. Enjoy your stay in New York.”

  She turned to leave, but he lightly set his hand on her forearm to stop her. The jolt of electricity that shot through her almost knocked her off her feet. How could a man possibly have such an effect on a woman? It was pure insanity.

  “I was hoping to have dessert. What do you recommend?”

  Taryn glanced at his hand then swept her gaze up his arm, over his shoulder and finally met his heated gaze. “We have a lot of fancy, shmancy stuff, but despite all that, my favorite is our mile high apple pie.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Taryn hesitated then nodded. “I’ll bring you a slice in a minute.” As she walked away she noticed Matt had come in and was being seated at table ten. He immediately waved her over.

  “Hey, how you doing tonight?” He had a broad and genuine smile, though he looked tired and weary.

  “Hectic, but the dinner rush is almost over. I heard sirens blaring earlier. Sounds like you guys were pretty busy, too.”

  “Yeah, it’s been one of those days. I’m looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening.” He paused a moment. “Look, I don’t know if you're into constellations and stars and all that, but we’re set to have a clear night and they say we should have a nice view of a comet that’s passing by. We could drive out to Long Island and…”

  “That sounds so cool, Matt,” she cut in, “but I don’t know when I’ll get off. Bobby’s been bogged down with exams and I probably won’t get out of here before closing.”

  He reached out to take her hand, his fingers gently playing along hers. “You're going to burn yourself out working so hard.”

  “I’m young. I can handle it,” she said with a wry smile. “Can I bring you anything?”

  “I can’t seem to get enough of that mile high.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Taryn hurried to the kitchen, sliced two hefty wedges of pie and set them each on a dessert plate.

  “Want me to take care of that?” Marla offered.

  “Nah, I got it.” Taryn returned to the dining room. “Here you go, Matt.” She set the pie down in front of him and barely gave him a chance to say thank you before going on to Errol’s table.

  The moment she saw him she knew he wasn’t pleased.

  “What was that?” His tone was pleasant, but barely.

  “This is the pie you asked for.”

  “Not this… that.” He jutted his chin toward Matt.

  “Matt’s an old school friend.”

  “And Matt is in the habit of holding your hand?”

  “Matt is in the habit of being a sweet and charming guy.” She turned and walked away, but instantly heard Errol’s footsteps behind her.

  Please don’t make a scene here? she silently begged. Not in front of my mother. Not in front of all these people.

  Before reaching the kitchen, Errol nudged her through the partition that separated the main dining room from the private dinner hall. Used occasionally for private parties and large gatherings, the large, empty room was now dark and still.

  “What are you doing?” Taryn whispered as Errol pushed her up against the wall. “I don’t have time for this, Errol.”

  “Really? You don’t have time for this?” He kissed her, hard and passionate, possessing her. His hands roamed over her body and stopped to cup her breasts.

  “Errol,” she breathed through his kisses.

  “I’ve missed you, Taryn.” His lips played over the skin of her neck and worked their way into the opening of her shirt. “Damn, Taryn. Tell me you don’t miss this. Tell me you haven’t thought of my touch.”

  Just seconds away from succumbing, from admitting how badly she wanted him, she heard the back door at the far end of the dinner hall open. She stiffened and shoved Errol’s hands out of her shirt.

  Through the gloom she could barely make out Bobby’s silhouette as he came in to work. With Errol’s aroused and arousing body pressed against her, she silently watched her brother pass along the far wall that cut straight into the kitchen. Only when he was gone did she breathe again.

  “You have to go,” she hissed at Errol.

  “Your body betrays you, Taryn. You want me… just as much as I want you.”

  “What my body wants and what my heart wants are two different things, Errol. Anyone could touch my body and bring a spark of arousal.”

  “Anyone? Like that Matt kid? Come on, Taryn. What is he, a firefighter?”

  “As a matter of fact, he is.”

  “You're too good for that cliché, Taryn.”

  “Thanks for your opinion, but if you don’t mind, I think I’m quite capable of discerning who’s good for me and who isn’t.”

  She turned to walk out, but Errol grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. His lips covered hers and brought a warm sensation that quickly traveled through her body and grew with heated intensity. His tongue filled her mouth and her body screamed out its need to be fully satisfied. There was something different in his kiss… something softer, gentler.

  He groaned with desire, with a hunger that had never been there before, with an emotion that…

  No, she wouldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. There were no emotions. He was incapable of true emotion. This was just pure sexual desire; just pure lustful arousal.

  Despite every logical thought that tried to pierce her mind, she wrapped her arms around him and crushed her breasts to his chest. His erection pressed against her belly and she knew she wanted more.

  He pulled away suddenly, leaving her cold and aching as he headed to the partition. “Now tell me who’s better for you.” And he walked out.

  Chapter 4

  Sleep refused to come as thoughts of Errol repeatedly played in Taryn’s head. Why did he have to show up like that? Why did he have to walk into my restaurant?

  “Why did he have to look so damned good?” she muttered.

  Her body was on high alert, eager for stimulation, desperate for satisfaction. No matter what logic she tried to bring to the hunger she felt, her need to be sated refused to diminish.

  She glanced at her clock radio; two twenty-seven. How could she possibly be as exhausted as she felt and still remain awake half the night?

  Frustrated, she threw the covers off and got out of bed. Neglecting to be mindful of those who slept, she stomped across the floor of her room and pulled back the curtain just enough to peek out the window.

  A few late night walkers, runners and stalkers roamed the streets. At the corner, a streetlight threatened to burn out. All things considered, it was pretty quiet.

  New York; her home. The Bronx; how in the world could a girl from the Bronx fall in love with a chef in Paris?

  In love? Really? You're kidding yourself. She pulled the curtain back a little further, though she had no idea what she was looking for.
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  The thrill. The excitement. Paris.

  No, she thought with a sober shake of her head. The thrill and excitement of Errol. He was the one who’d rid her of her naïve view of the world, her innocent disposition. He was the one who’d thrown open Pandora’s box, and now she had no idea how to close it.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against the cool glass and remembered their kiss. She’d thought of little else since then. Every other minute she’d licked her lips, tasted his breath, and had wanted to scream for want of him.

  Tears lined her lashes as she realized it wasn’t just her body that screamed out for him. It wasn’t just lust she felt for him… and she hated herself for it.

  She hated how she revered him, looked up to him, respected him as a chef and man of the world. She hated how she admired his talent in the kitchen, how she envied his ease with literally every culinary technique.

  But more than anything, she hated how she enjoyed being with him, having dinner with him, laughing with him.

  She’d left New York a sweet and innocent girl and Errol had taught her what being a woman truly meant.

  Yeah, she thought with bitterness. Being a woman sucks.

  “Damn it, Errol. Why did you make me fall in love with you?” she muttered against the window pane. When she opened her eyes and saw the mist her breath had brought to the glass, she couldn’t resist the adolescent impulse to draw a heart. “I love you, Errol.”

  With the unrequited declaration hanging in the air of her bedroom, Taryn returned to her bed and, after much turning and twisting, finally found sleep… forty minutes before her alarm went off.

  “Hey, pumpkin,” Samantha said as Taryn entered the kitchen. “I didn’t expect to see you up so early.”

  “I’ve been getting up at five-thirty since that first day, Mom.”