Summer Fling (4 page)

She’d clearly followed his train of
thought, but her challenging gaze conveyed her intention to resist his flirting.
“Chocolate contains over fifteen hundred flavor components. The beans
themselves have different tastes—coastal Venezuelan beans, for example, have a
dairy tang, but other beans from the region can taste of plums or cherries.
Mountain-grown beans tend to be nutty. English milk chocolate often has a
caramel taste, because of the caramelization of the milk. And that’s before you
take into consideration all the added flavors, like coconut, cinnamon, and
chilli.”

“Wow.” That genuinely impressed him. “I
never realized so much art was involved. I only know the difference between a
Twix and a Kit Kat.”

“I have a well-trained tongue.”

And now they were back to sex again.

Although when they’d first sat down she’d
tried to distance herself from him, her eyes glowed and the pulse in her throat
increased its rate. He wanted to lean forward and nuzzle her ear, press kisses
to her neck, touch his tongue to the place where the skin rose and fell so he
could feel the thunder of blood through her veins. He wanted to press his lips
against hers and see if he could taste chocolate.

He wanted her, period.

The lust that swept through him shocked him
with its intensity. How long had it been since he’d desired a woman this much?
His groin throbbed with an unaccustomed ache. Just lately, he’d caught himself
thinking he might stay celibate until he died. The idea of touching another
woman had carved him up inside. But the urge to crush Chloe’s lips beneath his,
to make love to her until she welcomed him inside her, burned in his blood.

At that moment, the terminal doors opened
and the familiar form of Mat Repia walked in. Relief swept over Garth. He
wasn’t ready for this. He shook with desire, burned with lust. He needed to
distance himself from Chloe before he dragged her off to a sheltered spot and
ravaged her.

Mat spotted him and walked over with a
smile. His full name was Matiu, Māori for Matthew. He had dark brown eyes and
skin the color of the latte in Garth’s cup. “Hey, Huia said you were over here.
Your four o’clock’s arrived.” He glanced at the girl sitting across from Garth,
and to Garth’s surprise, his eyebrows rose in recognition. “Chloe, what are you
doing here?”

She stood to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey Mat. I’ve just jumped out of a plane!”

“You went through with it?”

“Yep. Well, poor Garth had to...talk me
into it.” She didn’t look over at him, but a smile hovered on her lips again. She
gestured at Mat’s coveralls. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah, I work for him.” He gestured at Garth.
“At Sky High.”

Chloe stared at Garth. “Sky High is
your
company?”

“Yep. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I guess it slipped your mind.”

“Yeah. Well, like I said, you might want me
only for my money.” Actually his desire for privacy had stopped him confiding
in her, but now he wished he had because some of the light in her eyes died, as
if she thought he’d tried to keep a secret from her.

He glanced at Mat. “How do you two know
each other?”

She finished off her coffee. “Mat’s
girlfriend Abby is Stella’s sister—we share a house.”

“Oh.” He was surprised he’d never bumped
into Chloe before. He spent a lot of time with Mat, but he couldn’t remember
him mentioning her.

“Are you going to the party at the Hokianga
at the weekend?” Mat asked her.

“I’m not sure. You know I don’t do
parties.”

“You two are a pair—you’re as bad as each
other.” Mat nodded at Garth. “He’s just as bad. I can never get him to do
anything socially. Spends all his time at home with his dog, reading. So dull.”

“I jump out of planes for a living,” Garth
said. “I don’t need to be exciting in my spare time.”

“Yadda yadda.” Mat smiled at Chloe. “Think
about coming. It’ll be fun. Anyway, I’m off to prepare the next customer.” He
nodded at Garth. “See you in a minute.” He walked out.

Garth exchanged a look with her. “Will you
go to the party?”

“Probably not.” Her eyes now looked cool as
a winter sky.

Disappointment threaded through him. If
she’d been interested in him, she’d have said yes. But if she’d made up her
mind, he couldn’t do much about it.

She finished her coffee and pushed herself
to her feet. “So you’re off to throw yourself out of a plane again? What are
you going to do if this one refuses to jump?”

“I’m not going to kiss him.” Garth gestured
to the man outside talking to Mat. Surprise registered on her face, along with
something else… He decided to give it one last stab and teased, “Were you
jealous?”

“Garth, I’m not a thrill seeker. And I
could never date a guy who was. I want stability and security in my life. I
made a pledge to myself years ago that I wouldn’t turn into my mother, and I
haven’t changed my mind.”

His heart sank, but he nodded. “Fair
enough. I’m glad you jumped, though.”

“Yeah, me too. Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. Maybe I’ll see you
around.”

“Maybe.” She smiled and then walked away.

She exited the terminal, and he sighed
regretfully. Then he squared his shoulders. He shouldn’t dwell on what might
have been. He had enough going on in his life right now, what with the business
and his plan to bring Nick Stewart down. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be
able to put the past behind him and move on, and when he did, he’d find himself
a girl who wasn’t too afraid to get out there and enjoy life.

Still, Chloe Jackson was to linger in his
mind, especially at night when he closed his eyes and the memory of her lips on
his came back to haunt him.

Over the next few days, Chloe traveled
around the North Island visiting confectionary shops and speaking to suppliers
of spices and flavorings. The hours flew by, and she hardly had a spare moment
to herself.

Even so, she thought about Garth Rowland
practically non-stop, which annoyed her because she’d gone home Sunday
determined to forget him.

He’s not your type
, the angel scolded her.

He kissed you,
the devil countered.
I bet he’s fantastic in bed.

Unfortunately the devil had a louder voice.
Her brain conjured up images of Garth at regular intervals—his hot, hazel eyes
as he’d leaned forward to look into hers, his teasing smile, and most
frequently, the memory of his lips pressed against hers, warm in spite of the
coolness of the plane.

Tuesday evening, though, she pushed him
firmly out of her mind. The next day, she had an interview at a shop in her
hometown of Paihia. Cocoa Heaven, a tiny chocolate boutique, sold expensive
hand-made confectionary, and they’d advertised for an assistant manager to help
source ingredients and design new products. She loved the shop, although it had
sold the same old products for years, and she’d thought for ages it could do
with some updating. It would be absolutely perfect, especially because she
wouldn’t have to travel very far, and she couldn’t believe her luck that the
position had come up.

She’d been jotting down ideas for new
products since she heard she had an interview. Although Valentine’s Day was
less than two weeks’ away, the first big event the new assistant manager would
have to deal with would be Easter. They already produced large, hollow
chocolate eggs decorated with colored icing and tied with gold ribbon, smaller
cream-filled eggs, and the old favorites like truffles and the shop’s trademark
product of macadamia nut bites. But she wanted to come up with something new to
wow the owner at the interview.

She’d had discussions with suppliers about
a new French way of making a lighter and fluffier ganache mixture, and she had
an exciting new idea about a crisper eggshell made from the macadamia nut
brittle the shop produced, which would then be piped with the new ganache.

They could add fruit or mint for those
people who preferred traditional flavors, but she also had an idea for an “Eggs
that Bite” series, flavored with liqueurs, and maybe even a box with a hidden
chili-flavored chocolate for a fun Russian Roulette game. That got her to
thinking about a whole series of chocolate boxes based around simple games with
chocolates as prizes, and that evening she spent ages sketching out ideas until
she’d littered the room with paper.

“Wow.” Stella stopped as she walked in.
“Did a box of A4 explode in here or something?”

“Ha, ha. It’s the interview tomorrow. I
want to have lots of ideas to offer him.”

Stella picked up some of the papers and
examined Chloe’s drawings. “Gosh, if the shop made all these, I could
comfortably live in it. I’d be fat as a fat pig, though.”

Unbidden, Chloe remembered her teasing
phrase to Garth. “Are you asking if I spit or swallow?” Even the thought of her
words brought warmth to her cheeks. What had she been thinking? She hardly ever
flirted—she was always too self-conscious with men to make flip sexual
references. But she hadn’t been able to help it. His gaze had kept returning to
her lips, and he’d obviously been thinking about kissing her again. No
surprises that she couldn’t stop the memories of how he’d kissed her on the
plane. What a shocking, forward thing to do to a customer. He was lucky she
hadn’t slapped him or sued him. But she could only think about the way he’d
cupped her head and turned it firmly, capturing her lips in a manner both
possessive and gentle.

“Earth to Chloe? Jeez. What are you
daydreaming about?” Stella looked over her shoulder at the paper on Chloe’s
lap. “Who’s Garth?”

“Eh?” Chloe looked down. She’d doodled his
name without realizing it. She scrunched up the paper and threw it onto the
rubbish pile. “No one.”

“I know a Garth.” Stella perched on the arm
of the chair. “Friend of Mat. Gorgeous guy, American, ten feet tall and built
like a brick shit house.”

Yep, that was the one. “Never heard of
him.”

Stella’s lips curved. “Come on, spill the
beans. Where did you meet him?”

Chloe gave in. “He was the jump instructor.
He kissed me to get me out of the plane.”

Stella’s eyebrows shot up. “He what?”

“Unprofessional, I know. I should sue him
for sexual harassment.”

“You should offer up sacrifices to the gods
in thanks, Chloe Jackson. He’s single, gorgeous, and
richer than
Rockefeller.”

Chloe stared. He’d admitted he owned Sky
High, but she’d assumed it was a small, maybe family-run business. “He’s rich?”

“Yeah. Like a multi-billionaire or
something. Comes from a wealthy family in the States. What more could you
want?”

For a moment she couldn’t think. Then she
shook her head. Multi-billionaire or not, the man was a lunatic, and she didn’t
do lunatics. “He also falls fourteen thousand feet connected to a flimsy piece
of material several times a day. I don’t think I could cope with that sort of
worry on a permanent basis.”

“I can see your point.”

Chloe had to ask, though. “What else do you
know about him?”

“Very little. He’s a Yank, obviously. I
think he’s been here a few years though. Mat met him in Auckland and they’ve
been best mates ever since. I’ve only seen him a couple of times. Mat says he’s
a bit of a recluse. I got the feeling he has something in his past he’d rather
not disclose, but I’ve no idea what.”

Great, a risk-taker
and
he had a
secret life to go with it. Definitely not her type. She determined not to waste
any more time thinking about him.

At that moment, the phone rang. Stella got
up to answer it, and Chloe turned her attention back to her drawings. She
gathered the A4 sheets together, thinking about what folders she had in the
cupboard to present them in.

“It’s for you.” Stella handed her the
phone. “Nick Stewart—that’s the guy from Cocoa Heaven, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Chloe took the phone, wondering if
he wanted to change the time of her interview. “Hello, Nick, Chloe here.”

“Hi Chloe.” Nick had a pleasant, soft Kiwi
lilt to his voice. She’d only met him once. Although she’d been to Cocoa Heaven
loads of times, when she found out about the position she’d popped in and
happened to bump into him in the shop. Slender, and only an inch or two taller
than her, he had blond, unruly hair and a quiet disposition she rather liked.
She could totally see the two of them working together.

“Everything okay for tomorrow?” she asked
brightly.

“Actually, that’s what I’m calling about.”
He hesitated. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel the interview.”

Her mouth fell open in disappointment. “Oh,
that’s a shame. May I ask why?”

“Yes, of course, I owe you an explanation.
I’m afraid the business isn’t doing well, Chloe. I’d hoped that by hiring a new
assistant manager, I’d be able to bring a new lease of life to the shop, but I
had a meeting with my accountant and the bank today, and they’ve forced me to
accept it’s not going to happen. I’m going to have to close the shop.”