The Sweetest Seduction, Breakaway Hearts (12 page)

He took the bowls from her hand and held her in front of him, his warm hands on her upper arms. He didn’t need to use force—his touch alone weakened her defenses and turned her legs into goo. His lips pressed into a thin line “So all you care about is your restaurant? Is that it?”

The accusation in his voice stung. “You can call me whatever you want, Adam, but I’m not a whore. I meant what I said last night. I just didn’t expect you to pull this so quickly after getting what you wanted from me.” She shrugged free from him and continued cleaning the kitchen.

“If you think I just made you some glib promises to get you in my bed, then explain to me why I felt the need to spend the last four hours trying to convince Schlittler to look at other properties next week.”

She froze, unsure if she should trust her ears. “Guilt?” she squeaked.

“Damn it, Lia, you have me so wound up, I feel like I’m stuck on one of those hamster wheels—always running, but getting nowhere.” He loosened his tie and slipped it out from his collar. “I overslept this morning, and I forgot to tell Bates about my plan. He should have never brought Schlittler here.”

“But he did.” Her chin quivered at the memory of the chef’s harsh words.

“And that’s why I came here to apologize. Bates informed me that he was beyond rude.” Adam leaned over a container left out on the dessert station, peeling back the plastic wrap and sniffing. “Is this the same raspberry sauce you made last week?”

Lia cursed under her breath. “I can’t trust anyone here to put things away properly.” She took the container from him, the cool metal easing her worries that it had been left out too long.

Adam halted her and took it back. “I was just going to use this.”

“To do what?”

“This.” He stuck his finger into the sauce.

Her heart hammered at how he’d just ruined the entire batch, but her reprimand never left her mouth once Adam smeared the sauce along the fullest part of her bottom lip. He leaned forward and kissed her, gently sucking the sauce off before he pulled away.

“Delicious,” he murmured before repeating the actions again. “Of course, you’re sweet enough without the raspberry sauce.”

Don’t fall for his games. Don’t let yourself be seduced by his—
She sucked in a sharp breath as he moved to dabbing the sauce on her ear lobe and nibbling it off. “This isn’t going to work.”

He answered her feeble protest with a mere “uh-huh” before continuing to drag his sauce-covered finger along her neck, followed quickly by the flat of his tongue.

A tingle of pleasure rushed from her head to the deepest part of her gut. She didn’t resist him when he backed her against the metal table where all the desserts were plated. She didn’t stop him as he removed her thick white chef’s jacket and threw it across the kitchen. And she didn’t cry out in protest when he continued to smear the raspberry sauce on her exposed skin and remove it with a wickedly sensuous combination of licks and nibbles.

Adam had worked the straps of her tank top down past her shoulders before he paused. His thumb brushed across her breast, and he gave her a mischievous grin. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head, already knowing what was lying in store for her if his fingers were telling the truth. “I’ll have to throw the sauce away now anyway.”

“Then I’ll use as much as I need.” Just as she’d expected, he lowered her top to expose her breast and rubbed the bright pink sauce on it.

What she didn’t expect him to do was lift her up on the table just as he was taking her nipple into his mouth. The cold, hard metal contrasted with the hot, velvety texture of his tongue as it swirled around the aching peak. She moaned and arched her back, melting into him. When he reached the point where pain mingled with pleasure, he moved to the other breast and repeated the same dizzying choreography of licks and nips that left her tense and wanting by the time he finished.

In any other situation, the idea of having sex in her kitchen would’ve horrified her, but Adam had her ready to strip her clothes and any remaining shreds of control she had left. She wanted him even more than she had last night. She needed him.

The throbbing in her sex intensified as he removed her pants and underwear with one quick tug. The raspberry sauce ended up on her ankles, her knees, her thighs, inching ever closer to the part of her body that demanded release.

And Adam knew it. The closer he got to her sex, the slower and more deliberate his motions became. What had once been a streak of pink sauce an inch or two in length now travelled the entire length of her thigh. What had once been a quick stroke of his tongue or a playful nibble had turned into a long, drawn-out lick that set her flesh on fire. She whimpered and said his name in a plea to stop teasing her.

At long last, he knelt in front of her and draped her legs over his shoulders. His breath tickled her slick flesh as he whispered, “So beautiful, and so delicious.”

The cool raspberry sauce did little to ease her burning desire, but thankfully, his tongue found its way to where she needed him most. It flicked across the exquisitely sensitive skin of her clit, sending bolts of pleasure shooting straight to her toes. Her muscles tightened, growing more and more tense as he brought her closer to the edge, only to back away as he changed the tempo of his tongue. It moved away from the tiny nub and delved into her sex with long, languid strokes.

Adam repeated this game over and over, taking less and less time between the two dances. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him close to her, begging him not to stop until she finally shattered. She fell back onto the table, her hips rising against his mouth. His tongue continued to spiral along her flesh with each pulsating wave of her orgasm, drawing it out until she was left breathless and sated.

She had no idea how long she lay on the table, but the cold metal reminded her she was naked. Adam wrapped his arms around her and helped her up, holding her against his chest and stroking her hair while her pulse returned to normal. Minutes passed before she realized he was still fully clothed. “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“I would love to,” he replied, pressing the hard bulge in his pants against her, “but I don’t happen to have a condom available at the moment. I don’t suppose you do?”

She shook her head, a wave of shyness overcoming her. She pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I’m not the sort of girl who imagines she’ll be having sex in her kitchen.”

“Yes, there’s that pesky problem of mixing business with pleasure.” He dipped his finger in the sauce one more time and swiped it on her swollen mouth. “In this case, I’m more than willing to make an exception, though.”

She let him kiss her one more time, wondering what rule he was willing to make an exception on. She got her answer when he ended the kiss and said in a gravelly voice, “I’d better stop before things get out of hand. I wouldn’t want you to think I was seducing you so you’d forget about what happened today.”

“I thought it was an apology.” She waited until hope lit up his eyes before giving him a slow, easy smile. “And in this case, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive this misunderstanding.”

“And for that, I’m extremely grateful.” He buried his face against her neck, placing a trail of kisses along her skin until he came to her ear. “Of course, I’d be even more grateful if you’d come home with me tonight so we can finish this in more comfortable surroundings.”

Her body was already saying,
Yes, yes, yes
, but she hesitated in order to weigh the consequences of her answer. The more time she spent in Adam’s arms, the more entangled her heart became. Would she still feel the same about him if she lost her restaurant? Or was she just setting herself up to be hurt in the end?

She searched his face, seeing less and less of the cold-hearted businessman who’d come into her restaurant last week with news that he wouldn’t be renewing her lease. Instead, she saw the man who made her heart race and her body yearn.

The man she was quickly falling for.

She ran her fingers along his cheek and took a deep breath. She’d have to trust him with the things she treasured the most and pray she chose wisely.

“Let’s go back to your place.

Chapter Ten

“It’s not like you to back down on a proposal, sir.” Bates handed Adam a folder. Inside, a single sheet of paper listed the cost analysis of his original plan versus his new idea. He’d have to shoulder the loss, but if that was what it would take to sell it to his investors, he’d do it.

Adam snapped the folder shut and continued down the hallway to the boardroom. Shadowy figures moved behind the frosted glass windows like unseen enemies. His pulse kicked up a notch. He was going into battle in a way he’d never done before. Usually, he went in trying to sell his investors on an idea he was passionate about. Now, he was asking them to go along with a new plan after he’d gotten them to sign on to the old one. He didn’t know if it would be better to act humble or continue with his usual air of confidence. Either way, he’d eventually have to admit he’d made a mistake, and that made the muscles along his back twitch.

Bates cleared his throat. “By the way, did you see that lovely feature La Arietta got in the
London Times
this weekend?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You should read it, Mr. Kelly. Miss Kingsley had nothing but praise for Ms. Mantovani’s skill. I took the liberty of printing it out for you.” He pointed to the folder.

Adam grinned and thanked his lucky stars his father had hired Bates years ago. That article would be one more tool in his arsenal as he went into battle, and if it helped, Bates was in for one hell of a bonus.

His assistant stopped several steps short of the boardroom’s entrance. “I wish you luck, sir.”

“Thank you, Bates.”
I’m going to need it
.

Adam adjusted his tie, smoothed his jacket, and steeled his nerves. In a little over two weeks, he’d made a complete one-eighty about his decision on which restaurant would be best for the Magnificent Mile property. Now he needed to make sure the others saw it his way.

He opened the door and strode into the boardroom with his head held high. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Thank you for coming today.”

“We’re glad to have a chance to speak with you,” Raymond Vilowski, a member of the Chicago City Council and a longtime business partner, replied, “especially after hearing the disturbing news Mr. Schlittler has been sharing with us.”

Adam glanced across the room and found himself staring to the cold blue eyes of Amadeus Schlittler.

Shit!

“Hello, Mr. Kelly,” the chef said with a ripple of his fingers. “I hope you don’t mind my presence today. After all, you’re here to discuss the location of my restaurant, the one you’ve convinced all these men to invest their money in, right?”

Adam’s jaw tightened, holding back every expletive he’d wanted to hurl at Schlittler over the last week. Instead, Adam held his gaze as he sat at the head of the table. “No, I don’t mind at all,” he said in an even voice.

“Marvelous.” Schlittler rose from his chair and circled the men at the table with slow, long steps like a sovereign deciding how to deal with a band of traitors he’d just captured. “As I was telling you, Mr. Kelly enticed me with the prospect of opening my latest restaurant on the top floor of his building on Michigan Avenue. Naturally, I expect only the best, and even though that property barely lived up to my expectations, he then tried to convince me to consider several....” He paused, rubbing his fingers together as though he’d just touched something covered with filth. “...less desirable locations.”

The men all turned to Adam, their eyes asking why. But it was Ray who finally gave them words. “I thought you had this all laid out, Adam. You said you’d be evicting the current tenant when the lease was up, making way for Chef Amadeus.”

“That was my original intention, but it seems the current tenant, Chef Lia Mantovani, has been making quite a name for herself lately.” He opened his folder and found the article Bates had so cleverly inserted for him. “Just this week, she got rave reviews from a food critic at the
London Times
.”

He handed the article to Ray first, followed by the feature in
Food and Wine
talking about how Lia was one of the hottest new chefs in America. He waited as the pieces of paper circulated the room. Schlittler pretended to buff his nails on his sweater while the men read them, his expression of annoyance speaking volumes even though he remained silent.

The articles had almost made it back to Adam when Ray spoke. “That’s all well and good, but she’s not the same caliber as Chef Amadeus.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vilowski.” Schlittler gave Adam an “I-told-you-so” smirk.

“Perhaps not yet, but she is local talent.” A few of the men nodded, and Adam saw the table slowly turning in his favor. “That got me to thinking—why should we destroy what she’s built in less than a year to make way for an outsider? Chicago’s always had a proud Italian heritage, and she’s taking it to the next level.”

“Adam brings up a good point, Ray,” Thomas Blakely said from the opposite side of the table. As one of his father’s oldest friends, Tom had more than once served as the voice of reason when the Kelly family was deciding where to place their money. “In an economy where small businesses are suffering, there’s more pressure from the voting public to have the government’s support and nurture local businesses.”