Concern clouded his gaze before he blinked, and I wondered if I’d imagined it. ‘Tanner is a great businessman. He’s run restaurants. He’ll handle things at Le Miel for a month before I’m back on deck.’
‘A month?’ It came out a yell, and Remy chuckled.
‘That’s what the doc said. Apparently the more I keep off the fractured ankle and rest up the broken ribs, the faster it’ll all heal.’ He winked. ‘Who knew?’
Damn, I should’ve known he couldn’t use crutches to move around the shop when he had three broken ribs too. But when he’d said Tanner would be overseeing the daily operations, I’d envisaged a week, tops. Now I’d have to put up with the gypsy playboy for a month?
Feeling guilty for my selfishness when my friend was in pain, I squeezed his hand again. ‘You focus on healing fast. I’ll take care of the rest.’
‘Don’t you mean we?’
A deep voice came from behind me, the kind of voice that invoked images of dark bars, dark chocolate and dark souls. Deep. Rich. With an underlying hint of impudence that immediately put me on guard.
I turned and locked gazes with the devil himself.
Crap. Those eyes. A startling sienna, almost golden, the brown was so light. But it wasn’t the colour that unnerved me as much as the way they looked at me.
Like I was a tasty tarte tatin waiting to be devoured.
An involuntary shiver crept down my spine as that hungry stare zeroed in on my hand, where it lay covering Remy’s on the bed.
‘Isn’t this cosy?’ His insolent drawl made me bristle. ‘Hope I’m not interrupting anything?’
I snatched my hand away as Remy said, ‘Don’t be a dick. Tanner, this is Abby, my apprentice and the best damn French pastry chef outside of Paris.’
‘Next to you, of course, bro.’ Tanner’s assessing gaze focussed on me and damn if the parts of me that hadn’t experienced a guy’s touch in over a year didn’t zing. In a big way.
‘That goes without saying.’ Remy beamed, his affection obvious as he beckoned Tanner closer. ‘Thanks for doing this.’
‘My pleasure.’ As Tanner stepped forward, I stood and resisted the urge to scoot away.
As if those eyes weren’t enough, the closer he got I realised how big the guy was. Huge. At least six-three, with the kind of build honed from many hours in a gym. Or doing other forms of exercise.
Hell. Where had that come from? For the second time in less than a minute, I’d associated sex with him.
I really needed a bout between the sheets. If I could ever be bothered.
Being celibate since Bardley hadn’t been an issue. I’d been too busy assembling a life that didn’t involve society high teas, expensive dinners to woo clients and yachting on the weekends. All this squeezed around my business degree. Which I’d also walked away from. Bully for me.
‘Actually, your timing couldn’t be better.’ Tanner dwarfed everything in the room as he propped against the bed. ‘I’ve been looking for a new challenge.’
My skin prickled with awareness as Tanner’s daring stare alerted me to the fact he wasn’t just talking about Le Miel.
Either Remy was oblivious to the tension sizzling between Tanner and me, or the pain meds were really kicking in, because he waved us away.
‘Good. Then why don’t you two go get acquainted and leave me to wallow in agony?’
‘Your wish is my command, bro.’ Tanner leaned down to give Remy a gentle hug, an unexpected gesture that made me like him a little when I didn’t want to. ‘I’ll keep you posted. And don’t worry, the patisserie will be fine.’
‘Take care, Rem,’ I said, skirting the bed to the opposite side of Tanner, before bending down to place a kiss on his cheek. ‘Get well fast, okay?’
‘I will.’ Remy’s cheeky grin alerted me to the fact I wouldn’t like what he said next. ‘You’re in Tanner’s capable hands now.’
Heat surged to my cheeks as I imagined exactly what it would feel like to be in those hands, literally.
Then I made the mistake of glancing up to see Tanner hold up the hands in question, the corners of his mouth curved in a devastating smile. ‘Lucky you.’
Many words could be used to describe how I felt right at that very moment.
Lucky sure as hell wasn’t one of them.
Tanner
I HADN’T BEEN kidding when I told Remy I was up for a challenge. But the cool blonde with glacial blue eyes and an attitude to match wasn’t one of them.
A snowman could get frostbite next to that one.
From the first time she’d stared down her snooty nose at me, I had her pegged. Bored rich girl playing at baking goodies for a while. Probably like the ones she’d created in her state-of-the-art playroom kitchen as a kid, envisaging a prince charming with a mega bank account to come along and rescue her.
Yeah, women like her had the fairytale down pat.
Which begged the question: Why had she stuck around for a year?
Remy had given me the basics about his protégé during one of our phone calls about ten months ago. Said that one of his best customers had come into the patisserie one day, wild-eyed and dishevelled, begging for a job. It had been her dream to be a pastry chef apparently.
What a crock of shit.
I had no idea what game this Abby chick was playing, but the fact Remy had offered her the apartment over the patisserie while she got her life back together, and she was still there, meant I’d be keeping an eye on her and figuring out what her deal was.
Everybody had an angle. I’d learned that the hard way. So if the ice princess was taking advantage of my brother I’d kick her out on her sweet ass so fast she wouldn’t see it coming. And it was sweet. Very, from what I’d glimpsed when she’d bent over to kiss Remy.
It had been a touching gesture, indicating a depth of affection that could be construed as genuine, if I didn’t know better.
Women like her were masters at deception, and if her endgame was to fool my brother—maybe into giving her a piece of the action at Le Miel—she was in for a rude shock.
Remy had always been too kind-hearted; that was his problem. Probably one of the reasons Dad had tolerated him and despised me.
‘We should head back to the patisserie,’ Abby said as we exited the hospital. ‘Makayla, one of the staff, will be run off her feet.’
‘Not so fast, Sweet Thing.’ My hand shot out, touching the
