It sounded to Adam as if there might be more to the story but he didn’t push. Instead, he held his glass up, determined to lighten the mood. “Let’s have a toast. To Fantasy.”
Trish managed a smile as she tapped her glass to his. “To Fantasy.” She took a sip, then put the glass down and groaned. “Everything has been delicious, but I can’t put one more thing in my mouth.”
A vivid image of what else she might do with her mouth almost brought Adam out of his seat. It was absurd. What was it about this woman that made his libido behave as if he hadn’t gotten laid in five years? Perhaps it was because he knew they’d come together soon. Very soon, he’d be able to bury himself in her warm depths. It wouldn’t be soon enough to suit him or his raging erection, however.
Had he honestly thought he could wait for her to make the first move? Impossible.
He was about to suggest that it was time to go, when Jean Pierre emerged from the kitchen with several small platters and began to explain all the desserts he’d chosen for them. Adam’s ardor was effectively extinguished, probably a good thing.
Trish’s eyes grew wider with each little morsel the chef pointed to. After he left them alone, she stared at Adam in dismay.
“This is crazy,” she whispered. “Seriously, I can’t eat another bite.”
“I’m not sure I can, either, but we don’t want to hurt Jean Pierre’s feelings.” Adam speared a succulent miniature fruit tart with his dessert fork and held it out for her to taste. “Just one more bite?”
She moaned and rubbed her stomach. “I can’t do it.”
“But how will we know if it’s suitable for the gala?”
“Why don’t you taste it?” she asked.
“Because I’m the boss and I say it’s your job to taste the desserts.”
Trish laughed. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that rule in the employee handbook.”
Adam chuckled. “Okay, then do it for Jean Pierre.”
“Oh, all right.” She took a deep breath. “This is for Jean Pierre.”
“Good girl,” Adam said, moving the fork closer. “One little taste.”
She took the bite and licked her lips. “Mmm, it’s really delicious.”
Beguiled, Adam scooped a small spoonful of creamy chocolate mousse and held it out for her to sample. “One more bite, babe. Open wide.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling. “but only because it’s chocolate.”
“That’s my girl,” he murmured.
Time stood still as he watched her close her eyes, open her mouth and take the bite. Then she sighed.
“Oh.” She licked her lips and moaned. “Oh, my God. Oh, it’s fabulous.” She swallowed, then licked her lips again.
In an instant, Adam’s body was tight and aching. So much for playing hard to get. He wanted her with a need that burned right through him. In his current condition, he’d never make it out of the restaurant alive. Fine with him. He’d send the staff home, then make love to Trish right here.
So much for his grand scheme of withholding sex until she begged for it. He was the one who would beg her if he had to. Without even trying, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. All the blood that might’ve helped his brain function had recognized a more urgent need and rushed to his body’s lower half.
Adam tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “Let’s go,” he said, almost growling the command.
“Don’t we have to pay the bill first?”
“I own the place, sweetheart.” He came around to pull her chair out. “There is no bill.”
“I guess I really am tired if I forgot that.” She smiled up at him.
But on the way out, she insisted on stopping to thank everyone who’d waited on them, then poked her head into the kitchen and called out her gratitude to Jean Pierre, who came running over to kiss her on both cheeks and thank her profusely.
She had a way of making everyone feel special, including Adam, he thought as he led her out of the restaurant. He was beginning to wonder just exactly who was seducing whom.
Riding up in the elevator, Trish could barely breathe. Her heart raced and she shivered with pleasure, he was standing so close. She should’ve backed away and cut herself off from his touch, but she couldn’t bear to. Not yet. Once they were back in Dunsmuir Bay and reality set in, she would deal with these forbidden emotions. But right now she simply wanted to concentrate on his masculine scent, feel the soft pressure of his arm against hers, appreciate his tall, confident stance and wonder how it would feel to be wrapped up in his arms.
She shivered again.
“You’re cold,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and slinging it over her shoulders. Then he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “The mountain air can sneak up on you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering if he’d read her mind. If so, couldn’t he see that it wasn’t the cold making her shiver? Good grief, she was burning up-couldn’t he feel it? But it felt so good to be pressed against his hard body, she never wanted him to stop holding her.
Even though she knew it didn’t mean anything. Could never mean anything. He was just being polite, after all.
Trish made an effort to keep her thoughts casual as she glanced around the elevator. Even in this small space, the hotel’s rustic style prevailed, with a charming bench to sit on and kitschy antler sconces on the walls.
There had been a few times during dinner when she thought Adam might be attracted to her, thought he might even be tempted to kiss her good-night. But he was all business now, holding himself rigid even though he had his arm around her. It was just as well. She had no business thinking they could ever be more to each other than boss and assistant. And, lest she forget, she still had her mission to accomplish, even though at the moment, she could barely remember what that mission was.
It must’ve been the champagne, or maybe the chocolate mousse. She wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
They left the elevator at the top floor and Adam stopped at a door halfway down the hall. Using a card key, he opened the door and held it for her to walk inside.
“Oh,” she said on a quick intake of breath as she looked around the large king-size hotel room, then walked directly to the stone fireplace. A fire had been set recently and was going strong, radiating warmth throughout the room.
There were throw pillows piled on the wide stone hearth for cozying up close by the fire, and the mantel held a sweet display of old-fashioned portraits in small Victorian frames. Hanging on the walls on either side of the mantel were vintage tinted photographs of mountain and lake scenes.
“So pretty,” she murmured, then turned away from the fireplace and noticed the carved wood king-size bed for the first time.
“Wow.” It was a masterpiece, covered in richly brocaded silk with a colorful cluster of pillows. Whole logs made up the frame and headboard, and tall, braided willow branches acted as bedposts. The willows were adorned by gauzy drapes that looped from one branch to the next, giving the room a light, ethereal feel.
The room smelled of pinecones and forest rain. She breathed it all in.
“I’m in awe,” she said, spinning around to see more. “I love it.”
“I’m glad.” He leaned against the sliding-glass door leading to the balcony. His arms were folded across his chest and he looked relaxed and confident and too sexy for her own good, Trish thought.
He unlocked the glass door and stepped outside. “I know it’s cold, but you should come out and see the view.”
She joined him, grateful for the chilly air. Maybe it would cool off the heat washing through her. Adam stood at the rail, staring out at the lake and the mountain rising on the opposite side-dark, vast and mysterious. The moon had risen and was reflected in the water’s surface.
“It takes my breath away,” she said. “I wish we could stay for a week.”