this is perfect for you,” Marco said as he approached across the room.
He deftly placed a couple of long, hand-glazed platters on the table, each filled with gorgeous little colorful morsels that smelled as good as they looked.
“Oh, my.”
Royce glanced up at his friend. “I think she’s sold without a single bite.”
“Just wait until she tastes it,” Marco said with a grin, then strode back toward the kitchen.
Jasmine surveyed the bounty. “I don’t know what to try first.”
“There’s an art to it.”
She raised a brow at him. This was the first time the tables had been turned—a nonbusiness situation where Royce gave her advice.
“Trust me?”
He waited for her nod before lifting a tiny lettuce leaf cradling what appeared to be a meat and vegetable mixture off one of the trays. “Start here.”
Before she could lift a hand to take it from him, he’d brought the bite to her lips. Jasmine felt her smile disappear as she blinked. She could do this. She would remain professional.
Even though this felt far from professional.
She let her lips open. Just as she took the food into her mouth she glanced up and met the delicious heat of his stare. Their proximity reminded her of his kiss, his lips over hers. Talk about delicious.
Sudden flavor burst over her tongue. Cool, crisp lettuce. Spicy meat with an undertone of shrimp. A sweet drizzle that she couldn’t quite identify. As she moaned, she could see a reflection of her own experience in his eyes. His grin said he knew exactly what she was tasting. He picked up a matching hors d’oeuvre and slid it between his lips.
“Just the right amount of sweet to balance the spice,” he said after he swallowed. Lifting a wineglass from the tray, he washed the morsel down.
Jasmine did the same. Her inspection of the trays revealed several options for her next bite, but Royce knew exactly what he wanted her to have. Taste after taste, he walked her through the platters. Spicy butter glazed lobster skewers, meatballs spiced up with chorizo, jerk chicken mini-pizzas...her taste buds were in heaven.
“You were right,” she admitted about halfway through.
Royce gave her the most suggestive look she’d ever seen on his face. “About what?”
“The food.”
He feigned shock. “I did something right?”
“This time you did, smart aleck. This food will be the talk of the town for months after the event.”
“Marco will be thrilled to hear it.”
“But you won’t.”
He shrugged, sobering a little. “I really couldn’t care one way or another. But if I can help him even a little with this, then I’ll count it as a plus.”
“That’s a great thing to do.”
He shrugged again, then searched the platter with renewed enthusiasm and chose another morsel. Jasmine thought she heard the buzz of a phone but couldn’t bring herself to care as she helped herself to a hyped-up version of teriyaki steak that ravished her taste buds.
A good fifteen minutes later, Jasmine heard the phone buzzing again. This time it was accompanied by Royce’s grimace. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and read the texts. “It’s Matthew.”
For the first time, Jasmine wished that he would ignore his phone. For the first time, her reasons were personal.
The telltale buzz filled the space between them. Matthew wasn’t giving up. “I have to go,” Royce said.
For the first time, the regret in Royce’s voice matched Jasmine’s feelings.
“Too bad,” she said, not caring that her voice had gone husky. “I was having fun.”
His gaze met hers, bringing a return of the electric atmosphere from earlier. “Me, too.”
“Isn’t your business ever fun?” Deep down, she knew she was past the point of being strictly professional.
“I’m good at it,” he finally answered. “But no. Business has never been fun...until now.”
* * *
“So the ring is working!”
“No,” Jasmine insisted, frowning at her youngest sister. “That is not what I said at all.”
“Close enough.”
Why had she even broached this topic? Jasmine should have known better. Her sisters—both of them—had a tendency to take a notion and run with it. Auntie presided over the scene from her recliner in the corner of the breakfast nook. The mischievous look on her face meant there would be no help coming from that direction.
“I don’t know why I tell y’all anything,” Jasmine complained. “It’s just—” But the word business wouldn’t move past the constriction in her throat. She crossed the kitchen to stir the big pot of soup on the stove. Willow had chosen the perfect dinner for a rainy Saturday.
Though the chatter continued behind her, Willow appeared at her side. “Are you okay?”
While confident and decisive, Willow was also very sensitive to others. No one was more willing to lend a helping hand when she saw someone who needed it.
Jasmine lowered her voice. “I just can’t forget how he talked about learning to cook because his mother was never home. And about being named after his father’s car.”
She absently stirred the soup, watching chunks of veggies appear and disappear beneath the liquid surface. The lack of sunlight in the room left the green jewel in her ring lackluster; Jasmine still had the feeling the jewelry was mocking her.
“I don’t know what this is, but Ivy’s right—it’s not just business anymore.”
Ring or no ring.
Willow gave a tiny squeal that she quickly silenced under Jasmine’s glare.
“What about him? What does he think?” Willow asked, echoing Jasmine’s own questions.
She didn’t want to admit that Mr. Business was turning out to be someone completely unexpected. Jasmine could never have guessed that the stern CEO she’d met in his office that first day would be able to melt her with such a hot kiss. But hadn’t that tattoo on his neck hinted at hidden depths? A tattoo she had yet to see in its entirety, now that she thought about it.
“From your silence, I gather Royce is showing signs of moving in a different direction, too,” Willow filled in for her.
“Surprisingly,” Jasmine mused. “I think so.”
“So
