She leveled me with a look. “My mother made this every Christmas Eve. Simple food, yes, but before the feast on Christmas the next day she didn’t want to have to work too hard the night before. It’s sacred. Don’t disrespect it.”
“I’m just a starving idiot.” I held up my hands. “Please. If I don’t taste you—I mean, the food—soon I’ll pass out on your floor.”
Her eyes widened. She hesitated, then returned the plate. “Eat then… you starving fool.” She finished with a crooked grin.
Hm, was I making progress?
I dipped the panini into the béchamel, took a huge bite of almost half of it, savoring the flavors of the cheeses blending on my tongue, and groaned. “Oh my God. Marry me.” That blurted right out of my full mouth.
Laughter burst out of her, and the light lilt teased my hearing. I suddenly needed more of everything—her laugh, the food, her smile at last.
“For the record, I wasn’tnotgoing to feed you, bossman,” she admitted.
Stab me in the gut right now.Here I was playing out sexy fantasies of planting her on the stainless steel counter, getting my face between her thighs, and dirtying up her kitchen once again when she played the boss card. My mind raced to justify any sexual encounter being I knew her long before Snow Quest ever entered my dreams, long before she agreed to work here.
“Thanks, I guess. Good to know I won’t starve to death before plows arrive to dig us out.” I winked, then prepared my lips with a lick and took another satisfying bite of the most delicious sandwich I’d ever tasted. I moaned through chewing.
The lights flickered off for a few seconds and then on, Snowzilla reminding us she was still out there, ruining the moment.
“I had better be prepared.” She grabbed tea lights from a drawer nearby. She lit them, placing them between us. “We’re lucky we have power at all with this storm.”
My pulse tripped over itself at how the candlelight lit her face. Her skin glowed, and her blue eyes sparkled.
I quirked an eyebrow. “If the lights go out while we eat, this dinner suddenly gets extremely atmospheric. Dare I say—romantic.”
“Don’t even manifest?—”
The lights died completely.
She gasped. “I swear. From your mouth to Mother Nature.”
“I promise you, I don’t have that kind of magic.” I chortled and yanked my phone out and opened the generator app. “It’ll be back on in a minute.”
Except it wasn’t.
“Hold on,” I muttered, heart jumping, thumbs clicking more buttons. “Come on, come on…”
She hovered closer to see the screen—enough that her hair tickled my shoulder. More scents tantalized me, must be her shampoo of a berries and vanilla mixture. They warred with the fragrant meal before us.
I started sweating, half worried and half hoping for my survival fantasy to come true. I’d enjoy her hot, naked body with mine for one night to keep each other warm, but only one night because we’d probably freeze to death before anyone could reach us after the storm.
“Oh no, my pies. I forgot they were in the oven.” In the dim light, she scurried around, retrieved them out, and set them on cooling racks. She inserted toothpicks into the center to test them. “Whew, I think they were done just before the power went out.”
Mm. Pumpkin pie. This woman spoke my stomach’s love language.
At last, the generator kicked on, and the kitchen lights flared back to life.
“Thank God.” She exhaled shakily.
I was about to make a joke about her needing more faith in my technological skills when I saw the readout on my phone, and double checked every generator.
“Okay. So, good news—the main floor has full power,” I announced.
She waited.
“But the suites upstairs don’t. There are three generators, two are operating at only half power for some reason. Which means?—”
“A chilly night in bed?” She closed her eyes.
