A Taste of Pleasure
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Chloe Blake
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18,2K
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22
Chapter 1
Chef Danica Nilsson spread her knives on the long table and plucked the twelve-inch slicer from its pocket. With the bride and groom’s cake cutting ritual finished, it was time to serve the flowered and jeweled creation she had baked to the three hundred wedding guests that flew to Brazil to see her best friend Nicole get married.
“He’s looking at you again.” Liz, a longtime friend to her and the bride, leaned on the tabletop and crossed her arms.
Dani didn’t look up as she worked. “Maybe he’s crazy.”
“Crazy doesn’t look that good. That man is handsome.”
Dani half listened as she urged herself to hurry. The seven-layer masterpiece had been chilled to withstand the Brazilian heat, but even sitting under the shade of the tent, which had been spread across the entire vineyard, the icing was beginning to sheen.
“Maybe he wants some cake.”
“Oh, he definitely wants some cake.” Liz raised her brows and stared at Dani’s ass. Dani shook her head at her friend, thinking that she had enough “cake” to feed all of Brazil.
“Wasn’t he married to a model or something? He’s not trying for—” Dani looked down at her size-sixteen figure “—all of this.”
“You never know. Sometimes people go for the complete opposite of what they’ve had before.” Dani heard Liz take her therapy tone, something the good doctor did unconsciously when she was trying to make a point.
“I’m not trying to find a man here, Liz.”
“I just want you to have a little fun...and to forget about Andre.”
With just the sound of his name, Dani felt her guard go up. She’d been trying to forget, but the more she tried, the more she thought about him. Andre had refused to attend the wedding with her and had made it clear he didn’t harbor the same feelings for her that she had for him.
Andre loved running the New York restaurant together—translation: he loved that she did all the work running the kitchen, but anything more than sex was out of the question.
Dani picked up her knife and squeezed.
“Look, you go for him. I’m gonna cut this cake.”
The guests drank and danced as Dani took apart the layers and began plating slices of each. At first each cut made her feel more single, but as she worked she began to feel better.
The cake was her gift to the couple, a chef’s gift, and each layer was infused with different ingredients that told the story of their love—the bold New Yorker and the brooding Frenchman finding each other on a vineyard in Brazil.
A Brazilian chocolate sponge foundation, Nicole’s favorite, with a second layer of lavender French vanilla, Destin’s favorite. A third layer of traditional Brazilian fruitcake and a fourth layer of New York cheesecake. The last three layers she was most proud of, a Cab Franc–infused red velvet. All topped with wine-infused icing and candy jewels.
“Dio mio...is that wine? Brava! You’re an artist,” said a deep accented voice. Dani pulled her focus from slicing the cake to find Antonio Dante Lorenzetti, Destin’s best man, licking his finger.
“Did you just stick your finger in my cake?” The grip on her knife tightened.
Toni licked his lips and flashed a boyish smile. Sweat darkened his honey-colored hair around the temples, and his shirt was open to reveal a slightly damp chest. She briefly craned her neck to take in all six feet and three inches of him.
Liz was right, he was handsome. He was the type of guy that could have any girl he wanted. She wondered which one he’d choose to take back to his room.
Shit! Her cut faltered, breaking one of the perfectly two-inch cake slices in half.
“Sorry.” Toni shrugged an apology and slipped his hands in his pockets. His sleeves were rolled and a glint was in his eye, making him look undeniably masculine.
Dani set the knife down and rose to her full five-foot-eight-inch height. She quickly dabbed at the sweat on her brow with a towel. And if Toni hadn’t been standing there, she would have dabbed at her cleavage, as well. The bridesmaid dress her friend chose hugged her full frame nicely, but the open neckline showed a bit too much cleavage for Dani’s taste.
“Nice ink.” His gaze ran over the colorful swirls of flowers and symbols on the tan skin of her left forearm. Dani studied his expression; some people had a thing against tattoos, but Dani saw no signs of aversion. Still, she was certain that a woman like her was definitely not what he was used to.
Dani pulled her shoulder-length hair into a bun on her head, the shaved undercut of her hairstyle letting in more cool air. Screw decorum, she wiped at her cleavage, then tossed the towel on the table. She lifted a brow when she caught his gaze rising from her breasts. Men.
“What can I do for you, Toni?”
“You looked like you needed help.”
“A finger in my food is not help.”
He smirked. “I mean, where is the champagne for the dessert?” She looked around. Good question.
“I thought Anton was rounding it up with the catering staff.”
Toni frowned and leaned closer, swiping his pointer finger through the icing of the broken cake by Dani’s side.
“You’re lucky I don’t cut that finger off.”
“Bella, you won’t serve that piece.” His lips attacked said finger. “The icing is subtle, to complement the sweetness of the cake I assume? Lovely. You need the Clos d’Ambonnay for this.”
“No, I asked for the Lambrusco.”
“Absolutely not. That will be too sweet.”
Dani fought the urge to stab him.
His Italian arrogance aside, she remembered Destin introducing Toni to her as a fine wine merchant, and currently working to distribute Deschamps, Destin and Nicole’s award-winning wines. His family had been restaurateurs in Italy for generations. Apparently, he knew wine and food.
But so did Dani. She’d been cooking with one of Milan’s premier chef’s since she was a teenager, but she wasn’t going to throw her experience, her schooling in France or her current two-star Michelin restaurant in New York in his face.
What she was going to do was try to respect the groom by not killing his friend.
“Look, Toni, we’ve already had our tastings and this is the wine Nicole prefers with the cake. You know how sensitive her palate is. So thank you for the suggestion but I’ve got it under control. And I don’t think we ordered any Clos so—”
“I brought some with me. Just in case you ran out. Six cases of Lambrusco seemed low to me, but then again Italians are prone to excess.”
Dani’s hands flew to her hips.
“And how would you know how much I ordered?”
Toni rocked on his heels. “You ordered it from me.”
Dani blinked. “We ordered from a Brazilian warehouse.”
“My warehouse.”
Dani looked him up and down. No wonder he was so arrogant; he didn’t work for the distributor, he owned it.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, I gave them a discount.”
Yep. Money was no object. She should have known by that close-cut beard, which was perfectly trimmed to look like five o’clock shadow.
The catering staff appeared with wine bottles and began filling the idle flutes with bubbly—some red, the Lambrusco, and some mysterious white, which Dani assumed was the Clos. Dani slid her gaze to Toni, who was averting his eyes toward the guests.
“Well, looks like someone found your Clos.”
Toni’s apologetic smile was the perfect match of sheepish and wicked.
The staff took the plated desserts to the tables and left fresh dishes for her use. Dani bit her tongue and took up her knife again, unwilling to tell him that having red and white bubbly for the dessert was a good idea.
Ignoring him, she grabbed another layer of cake and prepped it for cutting.
“What restaurant did you say you worked in again?”
“Via L’Italy,” she said over her shoulder, surprised he was still standing there. Her knife made quick work of the cake.
“The one on Bond street? Isn’t that Andre Pierre’s restaurant?”
Dani’s knife faulted again and a fruit-filled slice crumbled.
Biting her cheek, she slowly lowered the knife to the table and faced him.
“It’s my kitchen.”
He frowned. “So are you a sous-chef?”
“I’m head chef.”
His frown got deeper. “Alongside Andre?”
Yeah, it sounded ridiculous. Dani took a deep breath, unable to bring herself to say the term ghost chef. But that’s what she was. She was the blood sweat and tears behind Andre, the famous chef who conceptualized the restaurant. A YouTube phenomenon turned celebrity chef, Andre opened several restaurants in the world under his name, but never stepped one foot inside the kitchens.
She had taken the job years ago thinking she would be working directly with a master. She found out quickly that he was limited in his skills. Proper editing and a ghost chef equaled smoke and mirrors. Many times she’d thought of leaving, but once the restaurant began earning Michelin stars, Andre made it worth her while to stay.
They had even begun sleeping together.
The kitchen was hers, the menu was hers and the Michelin stars...they were because of her.
But to the outside world, it was all Andre.
Dani let her gaze fall, unable to meet his bright blue questioning look. She arranged the broken slice on a small plate with a fork and handed it to him.
“Yes, Andre and I collaborate quite well.”
Toni took a bite and uttered a low groan of pleasure. She hated that his reaction made her proud...and a little aroused.
They’d been at the same table for dinner. He ate like a bear, dipping into everything, taking his time with the dishes he liked, eating seconds and sometimes thirds. She’d always liked a healthy appetite in a man.
Not that she was watching, or wondering if he made love the same way.
He slid the fork from his lips.
“That cake is art. Maybe you’ll cook for me one day?”
Her eyes snapped to his clear gaze. Was he flirting?
“I mean, I could come to your restaurant.”
Of course, he wasn’t attracted to her. He liked superthin arm candy that ate salads and wore tons of makeup. She pressed her lips together. Her lipstick had melted off hours ago.
“Sure. Stop by next time you’re in New York,” she said politely.
“Erm...you have—” He stepped closer and reached for her.
“What?” She looked down her body.
He swiped a finger across her upper breast and a jolt tore through her. Shocked, she followed his hand, which pulled away with a small dollop of icing on his finger.
She grabbed a towel and handed it to him, but he shook his head and placed the tip of his finger in his mouth.
“So good. I get another piece at the table, yes?”
She nodded absently as he walked away, blinking against the tingly sensations that lingered on her skin and swirled through her body.
* * *
Toni stood at the edge of the crowd and watched the throng of women in evening wear get ready to fight over the bouquet. The bride teased the group with a wave of her flowers, then turned her back.
Toni sighed and smoothed a hand over his brow.
I can’t do this anymore, Toni. I don’t want this life.
He downed the rest of his champagne and turned to go. He couldn’t watch anymore.
A large hand landed on his shoulder. “She’s hot for you, man. She’s been staring at you all night.”
Toni forced himself back around and smirked along with his fellow groomsman. Reluctantly he slid his gaze to the thin blonde in the red dress and sure enough, she was staring right at him.
She smiled. He forced a grin back in an effort to be polite, but he quickly looked away.
Virgin Mary help him.
She was beautiful...and way too reminiscent of his ex-wife. Being just out of a divorce, weddings were not high on his attendance list, but he couldn’t let Destin down. Nor did he want to bring his baggage to the happy day.
Toni turned his head to where the groom was staring lovingly at his bride. Toni supposed he’d done the same at his wedding.
This isn’t want I signed up for.
He tried to shake the angry voice of his ex-wife from his head. He lifted his glass to his lips. Empty. When the show was over he’d head to the bar, and then everything would be all right.
Fortified by his new plan he looked up and prayed the spectacle would soon be over. There was a shot of whiskey with his name on it. Toni focused on the bride, who had stopped midthrow and was waving at someone. His thoughts were wiped from his brain.
Danica let her curling hair fall around her shoulders and made her way from the cake station into the crowd of single ladies. He licked his lips, as if trying to taste the icing that had landed on her cleavage again. And what a stunning bosom it was. She was tall and hourglass shaped with full hips that he couldn’t take his eyes from as she walked in her heels.
“That’s too much woman for you, bro.”
Toni chuckled.
“There is no such thing as too much woman, Leo.”
Leo laughed in agreement and slapped him on the back.
“You can’t have all of ’em. Save some for the rest of us.”
“Don’t worry, brother. I only want one.” He was half kidding, thinking that a good night’s sleep didn’t sound so bad. But as Dani stood close to the back and slightly away from the women jostling for position, he couldn’t help but imagine her naked in his sheets.
The bride tossed the bouquet and he compared the scene before him to the game-winning goal in the World Cup. The girls moved as one toward the airborne flowers. The blonde in the red dress dove. Dani put her arms up for the block. The blonde grazed the bouquet and tipped it into Dani’s hands.
The crowd oohed.
But Dani swatted it into the hands of a young flower girl while the blonde lost her footing and hit the ground.
The crowd ahhed.
The blonde looked pissed. Dani sauntered away. And Toni headed for the bar.
* * *
Dani put the top layer of the wedding cake in the refrigerator for the newlyweds, closed the door and officially ended her maid of honor duties. Although the DJ was still playing, the party had thinned out once the bride and groom conspicuously disappeared. And it took Dani a minute to realize that her friend Liz had also left with one of the groomsmen, which meant the Dani would have to enjoy one last drink alone.
She found a seat at the bar, ordered a shot of whiskey, and paid no attention to the tall, broad-shouldered man with his back to her. Her thoughts drifted back to her encounter with the best man. Who did he think he was arguing with her over the wine? He looked damn good in a suit though. And those eyes, they glittered like a rainbow after a storm.
Dani cursed her weakness for tall, handsome and cocky.
As for Andre, when she got back to New York, she’d put an end to their sexual relationship.
If she could just find a sweet, humble, not shorter than herself man, then life would be perfect. Okay, maybe he could be a little shorter than her, but he’d have to have muscles to complement her figure.
And he’d have to be cool with her work schedule. Running a kitchen was a 24/7 job, which is why she had a penchant for sleeping with her coworkers. She sighed. This cycle had to stop.
Dani’s gaze darted back and forth, and then she pulled out her phone and opened up her dating app. Swipe left, swipe left, swipe left. Someone brushed by her back and she pulled her phone close. No one needed to know how pathetic she had gotten to be swiping at a wedding. When the coast was clear she made one more swipe.
“He’s cute,” said a deep accented voice behind her.
Mortified, Dani sat up and pulled her phone to her chest, ignoring the goose bumps his voice sent down her bare arms. Slipping her phone back in her purse, she slowly turned and met Toni’s amused steady gaze.
His hair was spiked like he’d been running his hand through it, but he still looked gorgeous.
“Stop sneaking up on me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said with a smirk. “Aren’t there enough eligible men here for you?”
They both turned when one of the more inebriated guests fell off his chair.
She chuckled and turned back to him, her gaze caught in the ripples of his chest as he too laughed.
“Um, No. And I’m not really looking for a guy, I was just having a drink before I went to bed.”
“What a coincidence. Me too.” He downed his whiskey and held up two fingers. “Bartender, two more.”
Dani held up her hands, then gestured toward the empty stool. “No, no, I’m not trying to be that guy.” But before she could slip away he leaned in so she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.
“Then how about we find more of that icing, and you can tell me which body parts you want me to lick it off of.”
Shock had her turning her head slowly, unsure if she had heard him correctly. His heavy-lidded gaze held hers and an explosion of sexual heat shot to the tips of her breasts, which were now diamond points, down to the V between her thighs, which felt on fire, and down her legs to the tips of her toes.
Time slowed and her heart pounded.
“It’s just one night,” he whispered, sensing her hesitation. “I’m going back to Milan tomorrow.”
“Milan? I didn’t know you were from Milan.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Without breaking eye contact, he brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed the warm skin, making every cell in her body shiver with unnamed desire. Suddenly nothing mattered but him.
“Let’s go,” she exhaled, hoping she had enough icing to cover him, as well.
