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Chapter Sixteen
Jan’s pie shop had been sandwiched between a pizza parlor and a Chinese food place. Neither were upscale. Just the typical neighborhood haunts that locals would run into for a quick bite or a fast dinner. They often stopped into her shop for a quick slice of dessert to accompany their fast fare.
The place Alex had parked in front of was right on the high street. In fact, the street dead-ended, and the building was at the end of that cul-de-sac. It was not affixed to any of the other buildings. It stood proud and tall as though it never needed to lean on anyone or anything.
The little Alex had spoken of the building he’d led her to believe it needed a lot of work. It was nicer than a luxury resort. It screamed five stars. It shouted Michelin stars.
“Oh, Alex. It’s perfect. It’s beyond perfect.”
“I don’t think you can get beyond perfect.”
“Well, you just did.”
She turned to find him gazing down at her. At her words, something flickered across his features. He scratched at the back of his head and kicked at a loose stone in the pavement.
Prince Alex wasn’t good with praise. Jan had realized that back during the pie competition when she’d applauded his sous chef skills. He handled criticism with a laugh and a brush off his shoulders. But praise made him fidget.
“Can we go inside?” Jan asked.
“We can do whatever we want. The building is mine.”
“I thought you had to wait for investors?”
Esme’s words sounded in Jan’s ears. Despite what he’d said about the inheritance, Alex was rich. Had this fake engagement all been a farce to get her here?
“I bought it from an old family friend. He gave me a good deal because he’s opening up a nightclub across the street. He thought a high-end restaurant would complement his new club. In fact, there he is now.”
The man getting out of the limo looked as though he were a sheikh walking out of the desert and into an oasis. His sand-kissed skin gleamed honey-gold in the sunlight. His dark hair rolled down to just above his shoulders like a wind-swept sand dune. But it was his eyes that caught Jan’s breath.
They looked like they didn’t belong to him. They were blue like the sea after a storm. Then he smiled, and Jan forgot the name of the man beside her.
“Hey!” Alex snapped his fingers in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. He glared at the man who approached him. “Turn the charm offensive off. She’s here on business.”
“A creature as enchanting as this?” The man rolled his R’s like a purring tiger. “She was made for the screen.”
“No, she belongs in a kitchen.”
Two pairs of modern, twenty-first century, liberated eyes snapped to Alex. The prince held up his hands to Jan.
“You know what I mean,” Alex said. “Omar, Marquis of Navarre, please allow me to present Chef Jan Peppers, my fiancée.”
Omar had been in the process of kissing the back of Jan’s hand. With the announcement of her relationship to Alex, he dropped her hand as though it were a hot potato. “Your what?”
“I’m his fiancée,” said Jan.
The Marquis’ mouth went slack as he stared between Jan and Alex. Just another in a long line of people who wouldn’t believe the two of them were a pair. Jan put her arm through Alex’s in a show of solidarity.
The Marquis’ gaze focused on their linked arms. Then back up to her. A slow, cautious smile began at the corner of his mouth. “Chef?”
Jan nodded.
“I suppose you two met in California before the Oscars?” said Omar. “At the food co-op Alex set up in the inner city?”
“Food co-op?” Jan began.
“No, no,” Alex interrupted. “Jan and I met after that.”
“Oh?” said Omar. “In Nairobi with the hydroponic gardens you helped install? Or down in Mexico with the bus stop farmer’s markets? Or have you been on some other philanthropic trip that you haven’t told me about?”
