Hungry for You (20 page)

“I thought I heard you come in,” she called from the top of the stairs. “I’m just going to grab a shower. I’ll be right down.”

Cale’s shoulders slumped. It seemed there would be no more shared dreams for now. Damn! He’d been looking forward to it. Sighing, he stood up and moved back out to the kitchen. The food and coffee still waited on the table. Cale collected plates and silverware for two. He had poured their coffees into cups and unwrappedand set the food on the plates by the time Alex entered the kitchen. Her hair was damp but brushed, she was dressed in jeans and a blue sweater, and she smelled of oranges and spice as she joined him at the table.

“Wow, it’s still warm,” she said with pleasure, pressing a finger to the top of her sandwich.

“Oui.
I got it at the coffee shop just around the corner.” Cale settled in a seat across from her. “And you were fast in the shower.”

Nodding, she sat down. Both of them were unusually quiet while they ate. Cale didn’t need to think hard to figure out why. Every time he glanced at her, their shared dream rose in his mind, stealing any ability to speak. Judging by the way Alex flushed every time she glanced his way, Cale suspected she was suffering from the same problem. It was almost a relief when they had both finished.

They worked together in that same silence as they cleaned their cups and plates, and then Alex glanced at him, flushed, glanced away, and murmured, “I’m thinking I might head over to the restaurant and check that light over the back door, change the bulb. If I don’t, I’ll forget and end up having to leave in the dark again.”

“The doctor said you were supposed to take it easy today,” Cale said quietly.

“I know, but I have to cook tonight and—”

“No you don’t,” Cale interrupted. “My cousin arranged for Emile to fly in and take your place tonight.”

Alex looked at him fully for the first time since coming downstairs. She definitely wasn’t thinking about their dream this time. Her eyes were wide anduncertain. “Excuse me? Your cousin arranged for who to take my place?”

“Emile,” Cale said, smiling wryly at her stunned expression. Apparently she recognized the name where he hadn’t. “I gather from a purely business perspective it’s a very good move. Not only is he supposed to be a good chef, but they’re expecting the press to be all over your restaurant once they hear … and if I know my family, there have already been several calls made to the different newsrooms in the city. This should be very good press for the restaurant, as well as the opening next week.”

“Damn,” Alex breathed, leaning weakly against the counter. “And here I was afraid the attack was a sign that my streak of bad luck hadn’t ended like I’d started to think.”

Cale smiled incredulously. “You’re now thinking your getting attacked is good luck? ”

She peered at him as if that were a stupid question. “If it makes Emile cook in my kitchen and garners a lot of press, you’re damned right it’s good luck. Heck, the kind of press this will bring in is worth broken bones and stitches, maybe even a short coma. A little bump on the head is nothing.”

Cale chuckled with disbelief.

“Oh geez,” Alex said suddenly straightening. “I need to clean the restaurant.”

“I thought you cleaned it every night after closing.” Cale followed when she headed out of the kitchen.

“I do, but this is
Emile,”
she said over her shoulder,speaking the name as if it were synonymous with King or God. “It has to be spotless.”

“Would it pass a health inspection?” Cale asked, already knowing the answer. He had noticed the night he’d worked at the restaurant and then again the few times he’d stopped in at closing time, that Alex was very conscientious about that aspect of her business and had trained her people to be as well.

“Of course. I keep a clean kitchen,” she said almost indignantly, stopping at the closet and dragging the door open.

“Then it’s good enough for Emile,” he said reasonably.

“That’s different. I want to make sure there isn’t even a speck of dust to be found. He’s—”

“Alex,” Cale said quietly, taking her coat from her when she dragged it off a hanger.

Scowling she turned on him. “Cale, give me that. I have to get to the restaurant and start cleaning. I want to scrub it from top to bottom, use bleach and a toothbrush in every crack and cranny.” She frowned and added, “Maybe I should buy a new apron just for him.”

She had been grabbing at the coat as she spoke, but Cale just kept shifting it out of her reach. Now he caught her arm, forcing her to a halt. “Scrubbing the kitchen today is not relaxing. In fact, it’s more ‘not relaxing’ than if you were to cook tonight.”

“Yes, but this is
Emile,”
she emphasized with frustration. “I need to make sure everything is perfect.”

Cale stared at her silently, and then sighed and lowered her coat. “Very well, if you insist that Emile’s presence means cleaning all day, then I shall call my cousin and tell him to contact Emile and cancel his replacing you.”

Alex had snatched her coat from him the moment he lowered it and immediately started to shrug into it, but froze now to turn shocked eyes to him. “What?”

“Well,” he said reasonably, “the man is only coming up here to help out because you’ve been injured and are supposed to take it easy. How do you think he would feel if he went to all that trouble, and then arrived to find that the woman who was supposed to take it easy had worked herself like a dog today cleaning for his arrival … Cleaning a kitchen which, by the way, was perfectly spotless when I saw it last night,” he added grimly.

“He doesn’t have to know,” Alex protested.

“He would feel like he’d been taken advantage of, used for his reputation,” Cale continued firmly, and then added, “And even if he didn’t find out, I would know and not feel right. If you insist on this, I would rather cancel his replacing you, and let you cook, which is surely less strenuous than scrubbing a floor on your hands and knees. The doctor said you were to take it easy.”

“But …” She stared at him with frustration, but apparently unable to find a valid argument, sagged with defeat. Alex sighed, and her voice was resentful as she muttered, “I guess you’re right. He’d probably be pissed to find out I’d been cleaning when I was supposed to be too sick to cook.”

“You
are
too sick to cook,” Cale said firmly. When she made a face at the claim, he added gently, “Alex, I know you feel fine right now, but your brain suffered a trauma last night. According to the doctor, it took a hard knock and was tossed around inside your skull when you fell. There could be bruising, or damage that isn’t showing so far. Please do as he said and just take it easy? Just for one day?”

“Fine,” she muttered, shrugging out of her coat and tossing it on the closet floor before slamming the door shut and marching off to the kitchen.

Cale stared after her with amazement, wondering if there really was some damage done. She was acting like a spoiled child who hadn’t gotten her way. Fascinated by a side of her he’d never seen before, Cale followed her into the kitchen to find her leaning against the sink, staring out the window above it. When she sensed his arrival, she sighed and turned around muttering, “Sorry.”

“I understand,” Cale said quietly.

“So"—she forced a bright smile—"I guess I’ll just putter around here today and rest. You can leave if you want, though I appreciate your staying last night. It was very sweet of you.”

Cale narrowed his eyes, suspicion rising in him. His voice was easygoing when he said, “I’ll leave if you like. I need to take your keys over to Lucian anyway.”

“My keys?” she asked warily, her smile fading.

“He’s going to take Emile to the restaurant. Probably a little earlier than is really necessary, but the man should have the chance to familiarize himself with thesetup,” Cale lied. No one had mentioned plans on who should let the chef into La Bonne Vie, and he’d decided that morning that he’d do it himself. But he wanted Alex to know that she wasn’t going to be rid of him and sneak off to the restaurant as he suspected she was planning. “And of course, I need to take your car keys as well to arrange to have it brought here to you. We were in my car last night, and you’ll be without a vehicle until I can have it moved here, but since you plan to stay in anyway …”

“Crap,” Alex muttered, her smile definitely gone now. It seemed obvious she had been planning to sneak off to the restaurant.

“Or …” he began, but paused to consider the plan that had just occurred to him. Cale was now worried Alex was annoyed enough with him that she might send him home out of irritation. But if he could tempt her with an antiquing trip … If he left, she would be here without a car, so might be tempted, and he could see to it that she took it easy.

“Or what?” Alex asked scowling.

“Or you and I could do some antiquing today,” he suggested, and then cautioned, “We’d have to take it easy. No gallivanting about.”

“Gallivanting?” she asked dryly.

“Frequent breaks for coffee or food, and not on your feet for too long,” he said firmly.

Alex stared at him for a very long time, but then sighed and pushed away from the counter again. Her tone was sulky when she said, “I guess that’s better than being stuck here all day.”

“You really are a bad patient, aren’t you?” Cale said with amusement as he followed her out of the kitchen.

“Who said I was a bad patient?” Alex asked, glaring over her shoulder.

“Sam.”

“Like she’s any better,” Alex snorted as she opened the closet door and bent to retrieve her discarded coat. She then tugged his coat off its hanger and turned to hand it to him.

“Thank you,” Cale murmured.

Alex nodded and shrugged into her coat, before adding, “Besides, I’m not a bad patient.”

“No?” Cale asked dryly, pulling on his scarf, hat, and gloves.

“No,” she assured him, and then added with a touch of chagrin, “I just like to get my own way.”

Cale laughed outright at that admission. He wasn’t surprised. She owned her own home, ran her own business, and pretty much was used to getting her own way in matters. But then so was he, and Cale suspected that if he ever did succeed at wooing her into agreeing to be his life mate, there would be some fireworks for the first year or so as they struggled to learn to live as a couple. But the makeup sex would definitely be hot.

“Warm enough?” Alex asked with amusement as she took in the way he’d bundled up. The hat was pulled low on his forehead, and he’d wrapped the scarf around his neck and face so that the only portion of skin the sun would reach was the bit around his eyes.

“I’m European,” he said through the scarf. “Not used to this cold.”

“Hmm.” Alex turned to open the front door. “This from the same man who didn’t even pull his coat on before running out to his car this morning.”

Cale didn’t comment but followed her out of the house, locked the door, and pocketed her keys. He planned to hold on to them until at least tonight. There was no way she was going to ditch him and take off to the restaurant to clean. Crazy woman, he thought with a sigh. She obviously didn’t know how fragile she was as a mortal. He would have to look after her until she agreed to the turn, Cale decided, and hoped it didn’t take too long to get her to that point now that they’d shared a dream. He didn’t know how Mortimer had managed Sam’s not turning all these months. The guy must have worried himself sick.

Cale had felt like he’d swallowed his own heart last night when he’d gotten to the restaurant and seen Bev helping a bleeding Alex to her feet. He hadn’t been able to get to her fast enough. He needed to up his game on the wooing front and get her to agree to be turned, and that was that.

“This should add some color to the office,” Alex said with a pleased smile as she peered down at the framed eight-inch-by-eight-inch print on her lap. It was called
Food Prep,
and showed a chef in a bright Italian-style kitchen slicing a parsnip. Despite the fact that she’d found it today in an antiques store, Alex was pretty sure it wasn’t an antique. At least she recalled seeing this print and three others being sold in a set in one of therestaurant catalogues she had. It looked much better live than it had in the tiny picture in the catalogue, and she thought she might order the other three prints that went with it when the restaurant was making a profit.

“It’s charming.” Cale glanced briefly toward the print, and then quickly returned his eyes to the road as he suggested, “Would you like to stop at the restaurant and hang it before we head over to the old La Bonne Vie for dinner? We’re a bit early anyway.”

“Yes, please,” Alex said happily. They had headed north of the city to hit antiques stores in the small towns there and would drive right past the turnoff leading to the part of the city where the new restaurant resided. In fact, they were already approaching that off-ramp, Alex noted as Cale put on the blinker to take it. She watched him make the maneuver, and then asked curiously, “How does this car handle?”

When Cale glanced at her in question, she explained, “My car’s kind of on its last legs and I’ll need to replace it in the next six months to a year … if I can afford it,” she added wryly, and then continued, “I was considering a Pontiac Solstice, but this seems to ride nice.”

“It handles well,” he assured her, and offered, “You can try it for yourself when we leave the restaurant if you like.”

“Ooooh, that rare and exotic animal, a man willing to let a woman drive his car,” she teased. Her mood had improved a great deal while they were antiquing. Alex still wished he’d let her give her restaurant kitchen a once-over, but understood why he hadn’t. She’d alsohad fun this afternoon, enjoying wandering through the various antiques stores with him and looking at this and that.

“This is just a rental,” he reminded her, and then added, “Though I’d be happy to let you drive my own vehicle. Of course, you have to come to France to do it.”

“Like that will happen,” she said with a laugh.

“I am sincerely hoping it will,” he said solemnly.

Alex glanced at him sharply, her eyes following the outline of his profile. It was the first time anything had been said to suggest he hoped to continue their friendship beyond the two months he was to be here. If it was a friendship. She wasn’t sure how to classify their relationship. He worked for her at the moment, had stated a desire to get to know her better, but hadn’t tried to kiss her or anything. Well, except in that wild dream she’d had last night, but that was her mind torturing her with what she couldn’t have. She couldn’t lay that at his door.