Deliciously Sinful Read Online Free PDF

tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sharpened her gaze. “Nick. I asked what is going on here.”
    “Just showing the kids how to flambé bananas.”
    She picked up a few bunches of cauliflower from the counter and dropped them into the sink. Then her gaze fell on the three other members of her staff, all teenagers she’d known their entire lives, who were currently staring at Nick as if he were some sort of god.
    Well, she supposed in his mind, he was. Even Jesse, who’d followed her out of the storage room, seemed to be enamored with Nick.
    “That’s not on the menu,” she said, pointing at the pan.
    He took another sip from his small glass. “I know. But it should be.” And licked the lime. His lips were shiny with the tequila.
    Shiny and smirky and kissable.
    Jeez. She needed a date with her vibrator to kill these urges about Nick.
    “Those bananas were for the bread you’re meant to be baking.”
    He raised one of his perfectly shaped black eyebrows. “I’m sure you can get more bananas.”
    “That’s not the point.”
    “Then what is your point?”
    She felt everything inside her constrict with irritation. “Why did I hire you again?”
    His glance flickered to the far wall and to the montage of reviews. “Because you actually want this place to succeed.” He looked back at her, and she didn’t miss that annoying, troublemaking twinkle in his eyes. “How are those brownies coming along? I hear they’re quite the hit at the bumpkin cook-off.”
    Damn him, why did he have to go there? In the privacy of her home kitchen, she’d attempted that damn brownie recipe about ten more times, and it hadn’t improved one bit. In fact, she thought the brownies had actually become progressively worse.
    It was then that she noticed every one in the café had gone still. Her staff was watching Nick and her bicker as if it were a tennis match.
    She turned and started to walk away. When she noticed he wasn’t following her, she jerked her head. “Come here.” Then she continued stalking, her skirt flowing around her ankles in angry swooshes of gauzy fabric.
    After he’d sauntered into the storage room, she kicked the door shut. “Stop that,” she growled.
    “What?” He crossed his arms over his chest, causing the short sleeves of his black T-shirt to tighten around biceps that made Phoebe’s mouth water.
    She swallowed. Then, pointing a finger at him, she said, “Don’t give me that innocent look. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
    “You mean the bananas?”
    And it was then that she realized he held a wooden spoon in his hand. With an evil glint in his eye, he uncrossed his arms and held it out to her.
    Like some sort of horrible Pavlovian food whore, her mouth began to water. She backed up. “Get that away from me.”
    He stepped forward. “Come on. Taste. I promise it’s better than banana bread.”
    “That’s not the point.” Then her back hit the wall. Nowhere to go. He was coming at her with his wooden spoonful of mouthwatering, and no doubt delicious, glistening banana slices.
    She clenched her clammy hands. “I don’t want to argue with you in front of my staff.”
    “What’s there to argue about?” He held the spoon just under her nose. She tried to hold her breath, but she couldn’t help it; she had to breathe, right? And oh my God . The bananas smelled amazing. She licked her lips.
    He watched her lick her lips. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable.
    “Taste.” When he said the word, his voice was raspy.
    “Don’t tempt me with your flambéed bananas!”
    His eyes sparkled with humor at her words. She inhaled, realizing it was the first time she’d seen real humor in his eyes. It softened her, just a bit.
    “Go on,” he coaxed. “You won’t regret tasting my banana.”
    “Stop it.” But her mouth opened. Why did it do that?
    He slid the spoon over her lips, and her tongue slipped out to allow him to tilt the sweet caramelized banana into her mouth. Her