CHAPTER 7
Jannie
Was she imagining that what he said had a double meaning? Jannie watched Nick pull in one side of his lower lip in such a sexy move that she promptly decided he’d done it on purpose.
He smiled at the short, stout ma?tre d’, who approached with a big grin.
“How was dinner, Mademoiselle Jannie?” the man asked confidently. He well knew the answer. The rooftop restaurant at the Lark had a flawless reputation.
Jannie grinned at the heavily French pronunciation of her name. “Perfection, as always, Francois. Thank you.”
Francois turned to Nick. “Was everything to your satisfaction, Monsieur Kent?”
“That would be an understatement. My compliments to the chef. I’ve never had a better coq au vin, not even in Paris.”
Francois nodded, not appearing at all surprised. “I will convey this to Chef. Dessert menu for you?”
Nick looked to Jannie, his deep brown eyes hopeful. “How’re you feelin’? Up for dessert?”
She warmed at his considerate question. “I don’t know. It’s hit or miss these days.”
“Let’s hope this evening is a hit, then.” He accepted the small menu that Francois handed him. “How about we order a few things, and you see which you can tolerate?”
She nodded.
“Let’s see …” He scanned the selections, his eyes bright, and Jannie thought he looked like a kid turned loose in a candy store.
She opened her own menu, smiling. It was refreshing to see a man excited about dessert. Her brothers avoided sweets as if they were poison.
“Madagascar vanilla panna cotta,” Jannie read aloud. “Meh.”
His lips twitched. “Vanilla unappealing to you?”
“Too bland. I want something with a kick.”
His gaze met hers. “I agree.”
There seemed to be a lot they agreed on.
Despite his unnerving raw sexual energy, oddly, she was at ease with Nick.
He made her feel … well, normal. And even more than that, he understood her.
He hadn’t batted an eye when she withdrew two alcohol wipes from her clutch and offered him one; he took it and immediately sanitized his hands.
From tonight’s conversation, she suspected he, too, had some perfectionist tendencies that others found strange and even annoying.
Blake had. She pushed away the thought of Blake.
“Sin City Dark,” she read.
“Now, that sounds promising.”
“Sinfully dark chocolate lava cake made with Valrhona and a touch of spice,” she went on. “Well, that says it all, I guess.”
“One of those, then. How about the Jackpot Java Cloud?”
“Fluffy coffee bean mousse topped with decadent cocoa drizzle. Mm. Yes, please.”
“One more?”
“Three desserts? We’re entering dangerous territory.”
“Walk on the wild side with me.”
“OK.”
“Poker Chip cheesecake—”
“Next!” She loathed cheesecake. It always felt like paste all over her tongue.
“Midnight Wedding Chapel Cherry,” he smoothly read on, not asking why she’d vetoed the cheesecake. “A velvety post-wedding delight, filled with sweet cream and studded with juicy Montmorency cherries.”
“Well.”
For some reason, the way he’d read it made Jannie’s cheeks grow warm. Good lord, the man could probably read off a Chinese menu and make it sound like a list of hot sexual practices.
Nick grinned. “I take it you approve of that one?”
“Sure.”
He nodded, summoned a server, and quickly placed the order.
He refilled her Pellegrino glass. “You’ve told me about your parents, your grandmother, your brothers, and your coworkers.” He captured her with those eyes that missed nothing. “But you know what I’ve heard nothing about?”
She shook her head.
“You.”
“What about me?”
He placed his hands flat on the table and leaned forward slightly. His cologne, fresh and woody, wafted to her nostrils. “You’ve said very little about yourself.”
She shrugged. “I went to UF for premed. Internship, residency … not much to tell. All I’ve done since you last saw me is work.”
“And your personal life?”
Oh, he was getting bold. “I don’t really have one.”
His eyes gleamed, but he made no comment, sucking an ice cube out of his glass, then chewing.
She fought the urge to call him out for it.
That habit was bad; it could cause craze lines on dental enamel and even lead to a cracked tooth.
It was a shame because he really did have gorgeous teeth, but she also knew that ice chewing increased the blood flow to the brain and stimulated the parasympathetic nervous system, resulting in a calming effect.
He was using it as a coping mechanism, Jannie realized. Her heart squeezed; the Nick she’d known was still in there somewhere—another thing they had in common. Jannie had never managed to completely rid herself of the insecurities of her youth.
She listened to him crunch, suppressing a wince. “What about you?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow. Jannie envisioned running her hands over his throat and shifted in her seat.
Nick held her gaze, his eyes intense and dark. “Me?”
She nodded. Waited.
His smile was slow and beautiful and oh, so very sexy. “I don’t have much of a personal life, either.”
She found that hard to believe. Jannie opened her mouth to say so but had to close it as a server approached with a tray loaded with sinfully delicious-looking desserts.
She noted with amusement that Nick sat up straighter, his eyes shining.
He smiled hugely, making her heart kick into a faster rhythm. “Ah, here we are. The best part of any meal.”
The server carefully placed the plates of intricately decorated desserts that looked like edible art.
Jannie eyed the beautiful confections. “These are almost too pretty to eat.”
“Pretty things are the most satisfying to eat,” Nick smoothly replied in a low voice.
More wicked innuendo? Her gaze snapped to his face, and sure enough, a suggestive little half-smirk curved a corner of his mouth as he reached for a spoon.
Evoking a vision of his head between her legs and her hands pulling his hair.
Dear God.
Jannie blinked a few times, but still, the erotic image lingered.
She didn’t understand these thoughts of him in explicit situations.
This had never happened to her, not even with Blake.
Her ex had always been the initiator, and she the willing participant, but right now, all Jannie could think of was getting Nick alone, ripping off his clothes, and going feral on him.
It was primal.
It was visceral.
It was …
“Like sex,” he murmured.
“What?”
“The surge of dopamine from eating a good dessert. It’s a close second.” His spoon hovered above the platter of sweet delights as he regarded her questioningly. “Which one should we try first, do you think?”
Jannie wasn’t used to this much consideration; Blake always reached for what he wanted and dug right in. She forced herself to look back at the desserts. In truth, she preferred to look at Nick’s large hands and long fingers. Damn, the man made holding a teaspoon sexy.
“I vote for the one with cherries.” She picked up her own spoon. “It’s the blandest, so we should eat that first.”
He smiled. “My thought exactly. Let’s go for it.”
They dipped their spoons into the decadent pile of cream topped with shiny red cherries. Underneath, Jannie discovered, was an incredibly light sponge cake. The moment the spoonful landed on her tongue, the combined flavors spread in a burst of sweet and tart delight.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured. “You weren’t wrong about this pastry chef.”
He nodded. “Talented, isn’t she?”
Jannie smiled hugely. “It’s a she?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
He wiped his lips with his napkin. “Louise Fontaine. She was featured in Food & Wine.”
He reads an epicurean magazine.
“You’re a foodie,” she declared, grinning.
A tiny smile. “I’ve been accused of that.”
Jannie looked up, trying to recall. “Now that I think about it, I never saw you buy lunch at school.”
He gave her a mock-horrified look and helped himself to another spoonful of cake. “Cafeteria fare?”
She laughed. “You talk about it as if it were lethal.”
“That’s because it was. At least, eventually, it would have been.”
“Come on.” She gestured with her spoon. “A few things they had were good.”
“Name one, please. I’ll wait.”
She thought a moment. “The fried chicken.”
“I remember.” His eyes sparked with something so intense, she had to look away.
Jannie cleared her throat. “Coffee or chocolate next?”
“You choose.”
She eyed the two remaining desserts. “I say we leave the Sin City Dark for last. I have the feeling it’s the best.”
He promptly pulled the cup of coffee mousse between them. “Do the honors.”
Jannie sank her spoon into the chocolate sauce that topped the mousse and pulled out a spoonful of pure, fluffy decadence.
Her mouth watered. Coffee, as far as she was concerned, was the elixir of the gods. She couldn’t think of anything containing coffee that she disliked. This time, as the complex flavors hit her tongue, she couldn’t suppress a moan.
Heat flashed in Nick’s eyes. “That good?”
“Better.”
A tiny smile played about his lips as he, too, tried a spoonful, all the while watching her intently. “It’s refreshing to see a woman enjoying dessert without guilt.”
Jannie shrugged. “I fail to see the point of ordering dessert if you don’t.”
“I love the way you think.” He picked up his knife and precisely portioned the cube into four perfect smaller pieces.
She thought of him in the cockpit, competently landing a plane.
Before Blake, Jannie had avoided dating pilots for many reasons, believing they had an air of arrogance that, while understandable, she found irritating.
Not so with Nick. The vibe Nick gave off was all confidence, strength, and reassurance.
He motioned with his chin toward the dark chocolate squares. “Try one and tell me what you think.”
For some reason, instead of feeling tempted, she felt queasy.
Nick started explaining something, but she had trouble concentrating because the room suddenly seemed to tilt. To her dismay, saliva pooled in her mouth and sweat sprouted above her upper lip. Unable to control her churning stomach, Jannie pushed back her chair and stood.