Summer Desserts

anyone. “Our business association is only one level. We’re both acutely aware of that by this time.”
    “Business is the first level, and the first priority.”
    “Maybe.” It was difficult to admit, even to himself, that he was beginning to have doubts about that. “In any case, I haven’t any intention of staying at level one.”
    If she were ever going to handle him, it would have to be now. Summer draped her arm negligently across the back of the sofa and wished her stomach would unknot. “I’m attracted to you. And I think it should be difficult, and interesting, to work around that for the next few months. You said you wanted to understand me. I rarely explain myself, but I’ll make an exception.” Leaning forward again, she plucked a cigarette from its holder. “Have you a light?”
    It was strange how easily she drew feelings from him without warning. Now it was annoyance. Blake took out his lighter and flicked it on. He watched her pull in smoke, then blow it out quickly in a gesture he realized came more from habit than pleasure. “Go on.”
    “You said you knew my mother,” Summer began. “You’dknow of her in any case. She’s a beautiful, talented, intelligent woman. I love her very much, both as a mother, and as a person who’s full of the joy of life. If she has one weakness, it is men.”
    Summer folded her legs under her and concentrated on relaxing. “She’s had three husbands, and innumerable lovers. She’s always certain each relationship is forever. When she’s involved with a man, she’s blissfully happy. His interests are her interests, his dislikes her dislikes. Naturally, when it ends, she’s crushed.”
    Again, Summer drew on her cigarette. She’d expected him to make some passing comment. When instead, he only listened, only watched, she went further than she’d intended. “My father is a more practical man, and yet he’s been through two wives and quite a few discreet affairs. Unlike my mother, who accepts flaws—even enjoys them for a short time—he looks for perfection. Since there is no perfection in people, only in what people create, he’s continually disappointed. My mother looks for elation and romance, my father looks for the perfect companion. I don’t look for either of those.”
    “Why don’t you tell me what you look for then?”
    “Success,” she said simply. “Romance has a beginning, so it follows it has an end. A companion demands compromise and patience. I give all my patience to my work, and I have no talent for compromise.”
    It should have satisfied him, even relieved him. After all, he wanted nothing more than a casual affair, no strings, no commitments. He didn’t understand why he wanted to shake the words back down her throat, only knew that he did. “Noromance,” he said with a nod. “No companionship. That doesn’t rule out the fact that you want me, and I want you.”
    “No.” The smoke was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. As Summer crushed out her cigarette she thought how much their discussion sounded like a negotiation. Yet wasn’t that how she preferred things? “I said it would be difficult to work around, but it’s also necessary. You want a service from me, Blake, and I agreed to give you that, because I want the experience and the publicity I’ll get out of it. But changing the tone and face of your restaurant is going to be a long, complicated process. Combining that with my other commitments, I won’t have time for any personal distractions.”
    “Distractions?” Why should that one word have infuriated him? It did, just as her businesslike dismissal of desire infuriated him. Perhaps she hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but he couldn’t take it as anything less. “Does this distract you?” He ran his finger down the side of her throat before he cupped the back of her neck.
    She could feel the firm pressure of each of his fingers against her skin. And in his eyes, she could see the temper, the need. Both pulled at her. “You’re paying me a great deal of money, to do a job, Blake.” Her voice was steady. Good. Her heartbeat wasn’t. “As a businessman, you should want the complications left to a minimum.”
    “Complications,” he repeated. He drew his other hand through her hair so that her face was tilted back. Summer felt a jolt of excitement shoot down her spine. “Is this—” he brushed his lips over her cheek “—a complication?”
    “Yes.” Her brain sent out the signal to