with humor. “In that case, there’s Caramel Kahlúa, Chocolate Rum, and Pink Squirrel fondue.”
“Pink Squirrel?” he repeated incredulously. “Do I even want to know what that consists of?”
She laughed, the light sound pure music to his soul. “Despite the name, it’s actually quite good. The dip is made up of marshmallow creme melted with creme d’almond, and creme de cocoa.”
He eyed the sauce dubiously. “I suppose I’d look like a wuss if I refused to eat something with such a frou-frou name.”
She leaned across the table and placed her hand on his arm in a way that was friendly yet arousing, even through his coat sleeve. “If you don’t mind me saying, I don’t think anyone could ever mistake you for a wuss,” she said in a low voice threaded with playful overtures.
He felt his chest expand a few inches beneath his dress shirt, and noticed just how close her glossy lips were. If he lowered his head and moved forward a few inches, he’d have the chance to see if she tasted as good as she looked.
His stomach muscles clenched, and he forced himself to glance away from the temptation of her mouth. He released a taut breath. Oh, man, he was craving her a lot more than the scrumptious confection on his plate—though he was fairly certain she wouldn’t appreciate being accosted over the dessert table.
He took another bite of his cake, determined to keep their conversation on track. “You certainly seem to know your desserts.”
“I should.” She fussed with the assortment of candies, rearranging them on the tray just so, then filled an empty plate with a few different chunks of fruit. “I run my own dessert shop.”
“Pure Indulgence?” he guessed.
She stopped stirring the Pink Squirrel fondue, and her gaze jerked to his in startled surprise. “You’ve been there?”
“No, it’s on your name tag.” He grinned and pointed his fork at the pin secured on her blouse above her left breast. “As is your name, Kayla.” Even her name had a soft, seductive ring to it.
“My name tag…of course.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten the badge that identified her. She poured a small amount of Caramel Kahlúa fondue over the bananas she’d selected for him, and drizzled the squirrel sauce over the strawberries. “Since I don’t have the advantage of you wearing a name tag, care to share?”
“Jack Tremaine.” She didn’t seem to connect his last name to his five-star restaurant, which was more than fine with him for the moment. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Deliberately, he stretched his hand toward her, giving her little choice but to accept it.
She slipped her warm palm against his much larger one, and he closed his fingers around her slender hand. “It’s nice meeting you, too,” she said, sounding breathless.
His heartbeat quickened. The sprinkling of gold in her eyes had darkened in awareness, and she dampened her bottom lip with her tongue. There was no denying the chemistry and latent desire that rippled between them, and it was damn nice to know that his interest was reciprocated. He glided his fingers along the soft skin of her wrist, and wished they were alone instead of in a banquet room with two hundred other people.
“Miss,” a woman said, diverting Kayla’s attention to the other end of the table where an elderly lady was pointing at the small, cut up squares that looked similar to brownies. “What’s in these Snicker Brownie Bars?”
Kayla pulled her hand back, and he let her go. “Excuse me while I help this guest,” she said to him, seemingly reluctant to abandon his end of the table. She exchanged his finished cake with the plate she’d just prepared for him. “Here, give this fruit and fondue a try. I think you’ll like it.”
Not ready to leave her just yet, Jack remained where he was and sampled the fruit and different sauces while listening to Kayla as she listed the ingredients of the brownie bars and swayed the older woman to try a small piece.
Absently, his gaze skimmed the table of sweets as he bit into a juicy strawberry topped with the marshmallow cream dip. He’d only sampled a few items so far. Still, he was highly impressed with the wide variety she offered that would please even the most discriminating palate. He was equally swayed by the fact that she’d obviously made the desserts herself.
He popped a sliced banana into his mouth and chewed. As the rich flavor of the Caramel Kahlúa sauce tempted his taste buds, he couldn’t help but wonder if the standard desserts he served at Tremaine’s Downtown were too ordinary in comparison. It had taken him and his chef years to perfect the main courses and side dishes that blended French cuisine with seafood fare. There was no doubt they had helped to garner a five-star recommendation for his establishment and rave reviews, yet he’d never given much thought to the desserts he’d initially chosen when the restaurant first opened years ago.
Now, he did. Just as he’d spent the time and care refining and improving the entrées at Tremaine’s Downtown to a high standard of excellence, maybe it was time to revamp and spruce up the dessert menu, as well. It would be a way to make sure that the final course of the meal lived up to the whole Tremaine’s Downtown experience.
“So, what do you think of the fondue?” Kayla was back, her expression expectant as she waited anxiously for his answer. “The Pink Squirrel especially?”
“Incredible,” he stated with honest enthusiasm, and licked a smear of Caramel Kahlúa from his thumb. “All of it, and especially the pink squirrel.”
“See, you aren’t a wuss at all,” she teased as her dancing eyes drifted to a spot just below his lower lip. “But you do have a bit of the sauce right below your mouth.”
He swiped at his chin with the back of his hand. “Did I get it?”
“Ahh, no…” Tentatively, she reached out and removed the sticky substance in a slow caress of her thumb. If it were just the two of them, he would have grabbed her wrist and sucked the sweetness right off her finger, and nibbled and tasted his way up her arm from there.
“See?” She showed him the smear of white froth, a smile in her eyes and on her lips. “That’s why only the adventurous should attempt to eat the Pink Squirrel fondue. It can be quite messy.”
“Maybe next time you’ll just have to feed it to me so I can avoid the mess.” That adorable blush swept across her cheeks again, and he had to stifle an amused laugh. “So, tell me, do you make all these desserts, cakes and candies from scratch?”
She grabbed a napkin to wipe her sticky finger and nodded. “Using only the finest, freshest ingredients, of course.”
Judging by the tastes he’d encountered, he didn’t doubt that in the least, which made his interest in her twofold. “And where is your shop located?”
“Seaport Village,” she said, naming one of San Diego’s biggest and most popular landmarks for tourist shopping. “Pure Indulgence has been there for about six months now.”
Finished with his fruit and fondue, he handed her the empty plate, which she put in the plastic bin of dirty dishes behind her. “Have you ever heard of Tremaine’s Downtown?”
“Of course I have. You can’t live in San Diego and not have heard of the restaurant, though I’ve never been there myself.” She refilled the fork and napkin holders, keeping busy as she talked. “But if you’re looking for a recommendation, I hear the food and service there are outstanding.”
He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. “So I’ve been told a time or two.”
She blinked at him, momentarily confused by his comment, then understanding dawned. “Ohmigosh, Tremaine’s Downtown is your restaurant?”
“Yep. And I was thinking, after trying your desserts and seeing that there’s more out there than chocolate mousse and plain cheesecake, it’s time I update my dessert