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“I was just going to eat it standing. I rarely eat dinner at the table.”
“That’s a shame,” he says, his eyes gleaming. “Because you deserve a nice, sit-down dinner. Not just tonight, either. You deserve to be spoiled every night.”
He grabs a second plate and heads out, motioning for me to follow him. We sneak past the door to the patio and up the stairs to our room. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t thought about the afternoon cuddle session until I see the rumpled bed covers and it all comes rolling back into my memory. His arm around me. How warm and safe I felt in his arms.
He slides open the door to our private deck and motions for me to sit at the table.
As I do, he hands me a cloth napkin and sets down the plate before me, like he’s my personal waiter.
I could get used to this. Except I shouldn’t. Because this isn’t even real.
“What are you doing?” I ask, somewhat relieved that Lucas didn’t want to join the other guests after dinner.
“You want the truth? Selfishly, I wanted you all to myself.” His blue eyes spark.
Something dangerous pulses under my skin. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the chef was flirting with me.
He takes my fork. “Before you take a bite, can I do the honors?”
I tilt my head, not understanding.
“I want to play a game,” he says.
“What does this game involve?” I ask playfully.
“You’re going to close your eyes and I’ll feed you a bite of each entree. Your job is to focus on the flavors and guess what’s in each dish. Then I’ll tell you if you’re correct.”
“A taste test? I already know I’ll love it,” I say. “I thought you said we taste first with our eyes.”
“We do. But I want to sharpen your senses. Learn to savor things in other ways.”
“Aren’t all the senses the same?”
“Not exactly,” he says. “It’s about heightening your senses. I don’t want you to just eat. I want you to indulge in the pleasure of one of life’s greatest gifts. Savoring.”
The way he says it makes me shudder. It’s like he’s an expert on how to woo a woman with food. And I’m fully willing to be his guinea pig.
“And what is the point of this game?” I ask. “Do I get a penalty if I’m wrong?”
“It’s okay to be wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things. The point is to give you a food experience you won’t forget.”
He has no idea how much I’m going to enjoy this game.
“Close your eyes,” he says. He moves his chair closer to mine and his knee brushes mine under the table by accident, sending a jolt of something through me.
I crack one eye. “You’re not going to pull anything sneaky, right?”
“You have my word.” He holds up one hand. “Do you trust me?”
At first I think he’s joking, before I realize he’s not. He really wants to know if I trust him.
“I do trust you,” I say quietly.
And this time, I mean it. I close my eyes and Lucas slips something between my lips.
The rich soy glaze hits my tongue first, followed by a sweet dash of honey, and a zing of fresh ginger. I slowly chew, savoring the tender, juicy meat.
“It’s not the tuna you prepared tonight,” I say, still keeping my eyes closed. “Grilled salmon with a soy glaze. I taste garlic, ginger, and honey, but there’s another herb in there. Thai basil, perhaps?”
