Summer Desserts

more than he’d ever wanted or had conceived of wanting any woman. She shifted in his arms, resisting for the first time since he’d drawn her here. Throwing her head back, she looked up into the passion and impatience of Blake’s eyes.
    “Enough.”
    “No.” His hand was still tangled possessively in her hair. “No, it’s not.”
    “No,” she agreed on an unsteady breath. “That’s why you have to let me go.”
    He released her, but didn’t back away. “You’ll have to explain that.”
    She had more control now—barely, Summer realized shakily, but it was better than none. It was time to establish the rules—her rules—quickly and precisely. “Blake, you’re a businessman, I’m an artist. Each of us has priorities. This—” she took a step back and stood straight “—can’t be one of them.”
    “Want to bet?”
    Her eyes narrowed more in surprise than annoyance. Odd that she’d missed the ruthlessness in him. It would be best if she considered that later, when there was some distance between them. “We’ll be working together for a specific purpose,” she went on smoothly. “But we’re two different people with two very different outlooks. You’re interested in a profit, naturally, and in the reputation of your company. I’m interested in creating the proper showcase for my art, and my own reputation. We both want to be successful. Let’s not cloud the issue.”
    “That issue’s perfectly clear,” Blake countered. “So’s this one. I want you.”
    “Ah.” The sound came out slowly. Deliberately she reached for her neglected purse. “Straight and to the point.”
    “It would be a bit ridiculous to take a more circular route at the moment.” Amusement was overtaking frustration. He was grateful for that because it would give him the edge he’d begun to lose the minute he’d tasted her. “You’d have to be unconscious not to realize it.”
    “And I’m not.” Still, she backed away, relying on poise to get her out before she lost whatever slim advantage she had. “Butit’s your kitchen—and it’ll be my kitchen—that’s my main concern right now. With the amount of money you’re paying me, you should be grateful I understand the priorities. I’ll have a tentative list of changes and new equipment you’ll have to order on Monday.”
    “Fine. We’ll go to dinner Saturday.”
    Summer paused at the door, turned and shook her head. “No.”
    “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
    It was rare that anyone ignored a statement she’d made. Rather than temper, Summer tried the patient tone she remembered from her governess. It was bound to infuriate. “Blake, I said no.”
    If he was infuriated, he concealed it well. Blake merely smiled at her—as one might smile at a fussy child. Two, it seemed, could play the same game with equal skill. “Eight,” he repeated and sat on the corner of his desk. “We can even have tacos if you like.”
    “You’re very stubborn.”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “So am I.”
    “Yes, you are. I’ll see you Saturday.”
    She had to put a lot of effort into the glare because she wanted to laugh. In the end, Summer found satisfaction by slamming the door, quite loudly.

Chapter Four
    “I ncredible nerve,” Summer mumbled. She took another bite of her hot dog, scowled and swallowed. “The man has incredible nerve.”
    “You shouldn’t let it affect your appetite, cara. ” Carlo patted her shoulder as they strolled along the sidewalk toward the proud, weathered bricks of Independence Hall.
    Summer bit into the hot dog again. When she tossed her head, the sun caught at the ends of her hair and flicked them with gold. “Shut up, Carlo. He’s so arrogant. ” With her free hand, she gestured wildly while continuing to munch, almost vengefully, on the dog and bun. “Carlo, I don’t take orders from anyone, especially some tailored, polished, American executive with dictatorial tendencies and incredible blue eyes.”
    Carlo lifted a brow at her description, then shot an approving look at a leggy blonde in a short pink skirt who passed them.“Of course not, mi amore ,” he said absently, craning his neck to follow the blonde’s progress down the street. “This Philadelphia of yours has the most fascinating tourist attractions, sì? ”
    “I make my own decisions, run my own life,” Summer grumbled, jerking his arm when she saw where his attention had wandered. “I take requests, Franconi, not orders.”
    “It’s always been