“Yes, you have to push yourself. That’s what I realized today. I can’t just do what I’ve always done,” Remy said. It was nothing less than the truth and he wished he’d figured that out earlier. More than likely that was part of the reason for his reluctance to take over as Chef Patron of Gastrophile. He had tried to introduce new dishes but today he’d realized he’d done that in the wrong way. There was a way to put his stamp on the restaurant without eviscerating what had gone before. And that was the key.
“True enough. I’m in the same boat. Cooking was always easy for me when nothing else was. This is the first time I’ve flat-out failed. I don’t like it.”
Remy laughed. “I don’t either. I’m too used to winning.”
Christian smiled over at him. “I’d take third over bottom three.”
“I bet you would. Next time we’ll both be in the top three.”
“Next time, I’ll be number one,” Christian said. “I’ll leave you to your cooking.”
Remy finished his dish and then put everything in plastic containers and packed it in a cooler he found in the pantry. He left it sitting on the counter and went tofind Staci. She was sitting on the edge of her bed with her notebook open reading over her notes. He stood there for a long minute just staring at her. Though it had only been a few days his impression of her had changed radically from that first moment they’d met and she’d spilled tea all over the both of them.
Yet one thing hadn’t changed. He still wanted her and would continue to want her he suspected no matter how many times he had her. There was something almost elusive about the woman. Something that he just couldn’t shake no matter how many times he tried.
He noticed the way her jet black hair was tucked behind her small ear and the long curve of her neck. The t-shirt she wore hugged her breasts and then her tiny waist. Her legs were curled under her in a position that he doubted he’d be able to make if he tried for hours.
“Like what you see?” she asked, a hint of humor in her voice.
“You know I do,chère,” he said, taking his time and letting his gaze slide back up her body. She shifted on the bed, uncurling those shapely legs and standing up.
“Your dinner is ready,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Great. I’m interested to see what our field trip this afternoon has inspired in you.”
It wasn’t the food that was inspiring him and he knew that now. If he’d had this new knowledge and his wits about him during the UCLA challenge he wagered he’d have won today. But he hadn’t. He could only use it to make sure he kept himself in the top three and moving forward with each week of competition.
“I hope you will be surprised,” he said.
“I’m sure I will be. It’s rare that I’ve had a man cook for me,” she said, following him down the hall to the kitchen.
Given the little he knew of her personal history that wasn’t a real surprise. “The men you’ve known haven’t been chefs.”
“One of them was,” she said almost beneath her breath.
He lifted the cooler and led the way through the open living room to the back patio. “We can eat here...or down on the beach where we will have more privacy.”
“I vote for the beach,” she said. “I don’t want everyone to know that we are dining together.”
“Why not?”
“People will talk,” she said. “It doesn’t matter that there are no rules against fraternizing, I know how unkind gossip can be. I think we’d both fare better if we keep this private.”
He nodded. He thought so, too. Besides he didn’t want to share Staci with anyone else. There was something intense about his attraction to her. He wanted to know more about her and it occurred to him as they walked down the beach to find the perfect spot for their picnic away from the other beach goers that he had created a dinner tonight to seduce her. He should have guessed.
Food was one of the most sensual experiences for him. He spread out the blanket he’d taken from the linen closet and watched as Staci sat down in the center of it. He set the cooler next to her before sitting down.
He opened the cooler to take out the bottle of wine that he’d wrapped in a chilled towel and had positioned on the cool side of the cooler. He deftly opened it and then took out the two stemmed glasses and poured them each a glass.
Staci took one from him. “I’ll say this for you, you picked the perfect place for dinner. Light breeze, setting sun...I’m almost seduced just sitting here.”
“Almost is the key word, by the time this meal is over you will be totally seduced.”
“I’m not too sure about that, but I like your confidence.”
“I like yours as well,” he said. If there was one quality that always shone through in Staci it was her belief in herself. He admired her for it. He knew she’d worked hard for that, unlikehimself, who’d had it assumed of him that he’d be good just because of his DNA.
“A toast to confidence and ego and hoping there’s room enough in the kitchen for both of ours.”
