miss the way she looked at the pastry.
Ignoring her protest, he divided the éclair in two and placed half of the chocolate pudding-filled confection on one of the napkins, then set it in front of her. When she simply stared at it, he said, “Go ahead.”
“I’m not hungry,” she told him.
“What’s hunger have to do with it?” he asked and bit into his half. He didn’t bother to hide his enjoyment. The rich pudding inside the chocolate-iced pastry shell was delicious. “Alphonse was right. Bernice does make the best éclairs.”
“This came from Bernice’s Kitchen?”
He nodded, took another bite, swallowed. “I was looking for a cup of coffee and wasn’t exactly dressed for the dining room,” he said, indicating the casual slacks, sweater and bomber jacket he wore. “Alphonse recommend Bernice’s.”
“Bernice is a genius when it comes to baking.” The wariness in her expression faded, giving way to a look of anticipation as she dragged her fingertip through the chocolate pudding spilling from the torn pastry. “I tried to hire her as a pastry chef for the Contessa, but she turned me down flat. Said she didn’t think it was a good idea for her and Alphonse to be working at the same place, that it might take some of the mystery out of their relationship.”
Jack arched his brow. “I got the impression they were in a…um…long-term relationship.”
“They’ve been dating for fifteen years, engaged for the last four. They don’t want to rush things,” she told him, the hint of a smile curving her lips.
“After fifteen years, I’d say there’s little chance of that happening.”
“It seems to work for them,” she said and brought her finger to her mouth.
There was something inherently sensual about the sight of Laura licking her finger, Jack thought. He found himself wondering what she would look like while making love. Would those green eyes darken with need and heat? Would her lips part, her breathing quicken? Would that smooth, cool skin feel as soft as it looked?
The direction of his thoughts annoyed him, but it didn’t surprise him, he admitted. He was a healthy male who enjoyed the opposite sex and the pleasures to be found in a woman’s body. But when it came to women and sex, he had no delusions. Plain and simple, he believed in lust, not love. And right now he was experiencing a serious case of lust for Laura Spencer.
She scooped another finger full of pudding and as though sensing his gaze, Laura looked up. Her body went still. Her eyes locked with his as awareness sizzled like electrical currents between them.
Jack watched as Laura’s lips parted and when he heard the slight hitch in her breath, he felt another stab of lust. The pudding on her fingertip fell with a splat onto the napkin on her desk. But her eyes remained locked with his. Not bothering to think about what he was doing or how it might impact his business, Jack pushed back his chair and started toward her. He had just reached the side of her desk when he heard the tap at the door.
A disapproving male voice came from the doorway asking, “Am I interrupting something?”
Three
For a moment, Laura couldn’t breathe. The air seemed to have backed up in her lungs as Jackson Hawke stood at the side of her desk looking at her as though he wanted to swallow her whole. And heaven help her, for a moment, she had almost wanted him to.
“Laura?”
Shaking off the moment of insanity that had gripped her, Laura yanked her attention to the doorway where her attorney, Daniel Duquette, stood looking both concerned and curious. “Daniel,” she said, her voice sounding more breathless than she would have liked. She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”
Daniel strode from the doorway into the office, slanted a glance at Hawke before shifting his focus back to her. “I’ve been tied up in depositions in Baton Rouge all day and just got back. When I picked up my messages, there was one saying that you needed to see me, that it was urgent. The front desk said you were still here, so I decided to stop by on my way home. Is everything okay?”
Everything was far from okay, Laura thought. But now was not the time to go into all that was wrong—not with Jackson Hawke standing there, measuring Daniel with his eyes and on the heels of whatever madness had stricken her. Because it certainly had been sheer madness that had caused her to react to Hawke as she had. The man was her enemy, she reminded herself. “Not exactly. And I do need to talk with you,” she said, hoping Hawke would take the hint.
“I think that’s supposed to be my cue to leave,” Hawke said drily before he shifted his gaze from her to Daniel. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jackson Hawke,” he said and extended his hand.
Daniel shook his hand. “Daniel Duquette,” he replied, his brow creasing. “You wouldn’t happen to be the same Jackson Hawke with Hawke Industries who engineered the takeover of the Wilhelm family’s company last year, would you?”
“Guilty as charged.”
As she witnessed the exchange, Laura had a vague recollection of the small chain of family-owned inns that had been bought out by a corporation. She’d heard that the sale hadn’t been a friendly one, that the two brothers who’d owned the properties that had been in their family for years had been split on whether or not to sell. There had been a great rift in the family because of it and because of the sale. The man behind that had been Jackson Hawke?
“So what brings you to New Orleans, Mr. Hawke?”
“Business.”
“Thanks for sharing the éclair,” Laura said, eager to get rid of Hawke and talk to Daniel about the mess her mother had gotten them into.
Hawke held her gaze for several moments. “You’re quite welcome.”
“Good night, Mr. Hawke.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment, but Laura didn’t miss the gleam in his blue eyes that told her he hadn’t forgotten what had almost happened between them. “I’ll call your assistant in the morning about scheduling that meeting. Duquette,” he said with a passing glance, and without waiting for a reply he strode out of the room.
The door had barely closed when Daniel asked, “What was that all about? And what’s Jackson Hawke doing here?”
Laura sat down in her chair and released a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “He’s the reason I called you. My mother pledged her stock in the Contessa as collateral for a bank loan and defaulted on the loan. Hawke bought her note and now he’s trying to take over the Contessa.”
Daniel let out a whistle. “Damn.”fv
“My sentiments exactly,” she said. “I spoke with the bank chairman briefly by phone and he wasn’t much help. I’m going to meet with him after the Thanksgiving holidays. I know it’s late, but could you take a look at these documents and tell me if there’s anything I can do to stop Hawke from taking over the hotel?”
“Sure. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Daniel removed a pair of glasses from his coat pocket, slipped them on and began to read through the sheaf of papers she’d handed him. “I assume your mother received notices
