It was a simple meal but she had seldom enjoyed one more. Remy talked to her more about his travels and the people he’d met. But he did it in such a way that she didn’t feel envious or jealous. They talked about Paris and Staci felt that bittersweet pang she always did, but it faded as Remy and she compared favorite sites and meals they’d had there.
She was afraid to admit it even to herself but she knew as the meal ended and the slow, sexy music began, that she was falling in love with him. He pulled her into his arms and danced her around the deck under the moon. She rested her head on his shoulder, sure that this one night she could let him see that she wasn’t always a tough cookie.
Sure that she could allow herself to enjoy the moonlight, the man and the memories that felt as if they’d last forever. But being Staci she couldn’t help but worry that tomorrow there would be another surprise like his wealth. That niggled at the back of her happiness, stealing a little of it. What if the next thing she found out about him wasn’t as pleasant as this one?
REMY WASRELUCTANTTO leave the yacht. He wasn’t a man who normally hid from life, so today had been a refreshing change from the persona he’d been maintaining for the last few weeks. But he also knew that showing Staci he was a wealthy man was a far cry from telling her the truth about who he was.
He was doing all he could to prepare her for the truth once it came out. The more he cooked and the way things had gone lately, he was pretty sure he could win this thing. And when he did, and the episodes started to air his real name would be revealed.
“Thank you for a wonderful day,” she said, wrapping the Hermès scarf he’d given her around her shoulders.
“You’re welcome.” He felt so sure of himself with her that if it weren’t for the lie of his identity, he’d already have swept her off to his Garden District mansion in New Orleans.
Even if that were possible Staci wouldn’t blindly go where he wanted her to go. He admired her strength and independence. A part of him feared these six weeks in Malibu might be all the two of them ever had together.
“We haven’t had dessert,” she said.
“You are right. I’m having coffee brought up and then we can sit on the deck and enjoy our dessert.”
The staff brought a silver coffee service and placed a cup in front of each of them. Then their dishes with cupcakes were set on the table. Remy was the first to admit he didn’t know anything about decorating cakes. They had a head pastry chef at Gastrophile—his cousin Helene who was a genius at desserts, but he’d wanted to impress Staci.
Did he always? There was something about her...or maybe it was something about him and the fact that he knew he couldn’t be totally truthful with her, that made him strive to always impress her.
She smiled as she handed him her covered cupcake. “Open it.”
“Okay,” he said, and then sat staring at the cupcake. She’d captured his likeness on the small dessert. It was amazing and a little bit unnerving. “I’m supposed to eat my own face?”
She laughed. “I know it’s weird. You can lift the fondant off and save it, if you can’t do it.”
“Why haven’t you made a dessert in the competition?” he asked. “You have a lot of talent.”
“I know I do. But there hasn’t been an appropriate task for it yet. If there is, I’ll try my best to win.”
“I’m pretty sure you will win hands down,” he said. “Now, open mine. Keeping in mind I’m not a pastry chef.”
She gave him one of those enigmatic looks of hers from under eyelashes. “Are you nervous? Say it isn’t so, southern man. I thought you had ego to spare.”
“I do, but I’m also a realist and let’s face it I don’t have your skills at dessert.”
She raised the makeshift lid and caught her breath. She slowly lifted the cupcake out and set it on the plate in front of her. “You made me a water lily.”
“Yes, I did. It wasn’t until dinner that I learned you liked Monet. So I think we are going to have to put this down to really good chemistry between us.”
She reached over and took his hand as she looked up at him with those pretty gray eyes of hers. “It’s perfect. And I don’t think you should worry about any dessert rounds in the competition.”
“As long as I can do something simple I’ll be okay,” he said. But he didn’t want to talk aboutPremier Chef.He wanted this day and night to be about them. “Do you really like it?”
She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles before letting it go. “Yes, I do.”
They ate their desserts both of them lingering over them.
“Why did you do my cupcake like that?” he asked.
“Something to remember me by,” she said, glancing over at him.
He met her gaze. It seemed as if time itself was standing still. He wasn’t a romantic, not really, but tonight he thought he could be. “I’d rather have you instead of having to remember you.”
Something flickered across her face and she looked away before turning back to him with a tight smile. “But we both know I won’t last. With you.”
