he said, holding out a spoonful of ginger crème brûlée. “I have a confession to make. Even though this really is one of my favorite restaurants in the city, I had an ulterior motive in bringing you here. The head pastry chef was my chief rival back in culinary school,” Carter explained. “You sampled my desserts earlier today. I want you to tell me which is better.”
Her eyes held a glimmer of mischievous humor. “Are you looking for an honest opinion or an ego stroking?”
“Honest opinion,” he said.
She leaned forward slightly and parted her lips. For several moments all Carter could do was stare at her delicate pink tongue and think about all the ways he could enjoy it. Shaking off the rush of instant lust, he pulled in a deep breath and slid the spoon inside her mouth.
Lorraine closed her eyes and let out a soft moan.
“It’s horrible. So bad that I won’t subject you to it,” she said, reaching for the shallow, oblong dish.
“Nice try.” Carter laughed as he scooped up a spoonful of the custard and ate it. “Dammit, it’s amazing.”
“I’m certain that if you made a crème brûlée it would be as good or better.”
He shook his head. “Mine is okay, but it can’t compare to this.”
“Forgive my table manners, but that looks too delicious.” Lorraine reached over and scooped up a helping of the Chantilly cream used to garnish the dessert, and sucked it from her finger. “Mmm...it’s glorious,” she said.
Carter’s chest constricted as every bit of blood in his body headed straight for his groin. He quickly scooped up some of the cream and held his finger out to her.
“Please do that again.” His voice held a miserable plea, but he didn’t care.
Lorraine hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flashing across her face, but then she obliged. Her eyes never leaving his, she parted her lips and closed them around his finger.
“Mmm,” she said. “I was right about you. You’re a dangerous man, Carter Drayson.”
“Is that good or bad?” he managed to ask, despite the tightness in his throat.
“Probably both.”
“How so?”
In a slightly lower, slightly awe-filled whisper, she said, “You make me want to do things I’d never before considered doing on a first date.”
There was no mistaking the look in her eyes. He’d seen it in the eyes of countless other women, but Lorraine looked even hungrier than most. Carter felt light-headed. “Are you ready for the check?”
“Yes,” Lorraine quickly answered.
The extremely attentive waitstaff at Les Nomades had their plates cleared in no time, and five minutes later, Carter had taken care of the check. He rounded the table and pulled out her seat, then settled his hand at the small of her back as he guided Lorraine out of the restaurant.
Les Nomades was within walking distance of the bakery, so he’d left his car parked in his usual spot. But Lorraine had driven here. As they waited underneath the awning for the valet to bring her car around, Carter told himself to slow down.
But he couldn’t. He had to taste her.
He leaned forward, his heart pounding in anticipation of the way Lorraine’s lips would feel against his.
Just then, a flash of lightning streaked across her face. Wait. That wasn’t lightning. It was a camera flash.
“Oh, goodness. No.” Lorraine held her purse in front of her face.
“Hey, what the hell?” Carter tried to stiff-arm the guy with the camera, but he got in one more shot before taking off.
Lorraine looked up at him with wild, frightened eyes.
“It’s okay,” Carter said, capturing her forearms and giving them a squeeze.
“No. No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
The valet picked that moment to pull up with her car. Before Carter could fully comprehend what was happening, she handed the valet a twenty-dollar bill, slipped behind the wheel and was gone.
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