‘THAT’S two Mondays on the trot I’ve beaten you at squash now,’ Luke said, ‘and I’ve barely even broken a sweat tonight. This isn’t good. It isn’t good at all.’ He spread his hands. ‘But at least this week you’re looking a bit happier. So are you going to fill me in on what’s happened?’
‘Lily agreed to cook for me,’ Karim said.
Luke groaned. ‘Please tell me you’re not letting your libido rule your brain.’
‘I’m not.’ Much. ‘Anyway. I need you on Wednesday night.’
‘Need me for what?’
‘Dinner. My place. And is there any chance you can bring Cathy?’
Luke frowned. ‘I thought you just said Lily agreed to cook for you?’
‘She has. But she wants to do a trial run of the food—and she wants some guinea pigs who’ll give her an honest opinion. Which means you…and a professional one from Cathy would be good.’
‘I’ll see if Cathy’s free, but I can’t guarantee it,’ Luke said. ‘For all I know, she might have a jealous other half.’
‘Then get her to bring him—or her—as well.’ Karim paused. ‘How come you don’t know much about Cathy, if she’s in charge of the club’s kitchen?’
‘It’s not on her CV, and it’s against the law to ask,’ Luke said economically. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter whether she’s single or attached. She’s good at her job. That’s all I need to know.’
‘Aren’t you supposed to show an interest in your staff?’ Karim asked mildly.
‘No. And, unlike some people around here, I’m not stupid enough to think about getting involved with someone I work with.’
‘I’m not thinking about getting involved with Lily.’ Strictly speaking, that was true. He wasn’t thinking about it—he already was involved with her. On a temporary basis. With mutually agreed ground rules.
Luke gave him a sceptical look. ‘OK. I’ll sort Wednesday.’
‘It’s not interfering with work?’
‘Not really.’ Luke shrugged. ‘I’d been invited to a party. But I’m getting bored with parties. Being a guinea pig sounds a lot more fun.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And it has the added bonus of me getting to meet this woman who’s turned you into a gibbering idiot.’
‘That’s an exaggeration. I’m not a gibbering idiot.’
‘Hmm. I reserve the right to comment until after I’ve met her.’
Karim laughed. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less from a man who calls a spade a “bloody shovel”. Come on. As I lost, I’ll get the drinks. And you can tell me all about this new scheme of yours.’
The following afternoon, Lily opened the door to Karim, who had a veritable armful of deep blue irises and pink and white tulips.
‘What’s this, an entire florist’s?’ she asked.
‘Hello to you, too.’ He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.
‘Karim! This is meant to be business.’
‘Not until three o’clock.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And right now it’s ten minutes to. Which means,’ he said, putting the flowers in her arms and closing the door behind them, ‘I have ten minutes to kiss you stupid.’
He was gratified to see how swiftly she blushed. Her eyes looked huge and her mouth had parted, already inviting the said kisses. Then she shook herself. ‘I… Karim, thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely. But this isn’t going to work.’
‘Yes, it is.’ He marched her into the kitchen, took the flowers from her, put them on the draining board, and fiddled with her oven.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Setting the timer. We have nine minutes before our business meeting.’ He blew her a kiss, and placed a brown paper bag on the worktop.
‘I’m going to regret asking, but what’s that?’ she asked.
‘Pomegranate. In case you were out of stock. Stop talking, Lily, you’re wasting time. Eight and a half minutes.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Thoroughly. Until she was kissing him back and made no protest whatsoever when his hands burrowed under the hem of her camisole top to stroke her midriff and then unclip her bra.
He loved touching Lily. Kissing her. Loved the warmth of her response and the fact that she didn’t hold back—she’d untucked his shirt and was teasing his skin with her fingertips, the same way he was teasing her, drawing lazy circles on the soft undercurves of her breasts.
Karim was just unzipping her jeans, ready to ease them down over her hips, when the oven timer pinged. For a moment, he considered ignoring it—but the sound was loud enough to break his concentration. Enough to remind him that he needed to prove to Lily that they could manage the fine line between business and pleasure.
He switched off the timer, then restored order to Lily’s delightfully déshabillé clothes and tucked his own shirt back in place. ‘Right. Menus.’
‘Karim, I—’ She sounded dazed.
He laughed. ‘Your body’s definitely out to lunch, habibti. And I think your mind might be, too. Where did my clever, competent cook go?’
‘Let’s just say you achieved your objective,’ she said wryly.
‘What?’
‘You just kissed me stupid.’ She laughed. ‘Or maybe I should say, you just kissed me, stupid.’
‘Playing punctuation games with me, are you, Miss Finch?’ And he loved her fencing with him like this. ‘I’m going to kiss you a lot more, later,’ he promised. ‘After our meeting. So where are we sitting?’
‘You,’ she said, ‘are not sitting anywhere near me. I need a cold shower.’
‘Mmm. Shower.’ He looked speculatively at her. ‘How would you rate your shower in comparison to mine?’
‘One out of ten. Don’t even think about it.’ She tidied her hair, then went over to the kitchen sink and splashed her face with cold water before drying it on a towel. ‘And don’t do that again.’
‘Do what?’
‘Distract me when we’re talking business.’
‘We weren’t talking business,’ he reminded her. ‘Our appointment was mid-afternoon—and I was early.’
‘You’re splitting hairs. So have you sorted out your guests for Wednesday?’
‘Rafiq, Luke, probably Cathy, maybe Cathy’s jealous boyfriend.’
‘There’s a jealous boyfriend involved?’
He shrugged. ‘Luke has no idea. Could be a husband. Could be nobody.’
She groaned. ‘This friend of yours sounds very like you. Focused on work and nothing else penetrates your consciousness.’
Karim laughed. ‘He’s not a sheikh. He’s a barrow boy.’
‘I thought you said he owned a gym?’
‘Several, actually. Oh, wait. I think he might have sold most of them. The new one’s just because he was bored waiting for another project to get going.’
‘He bought a gym because he was bored?’ Lily blinked, as if unable to take it in. ‘Why?’
‘Because it was on its last legs, and he saw it as a challenge—to see how quickly he could turn it around.’
‘You mean, he’s an asset stripper? Buys things and sells them again almost immediately?’
‘He buys failing businesses and turns them around and sells them as going concerns,’ Karim corrected. ‘And he’s very, very good at what he does. He’s loaded, although he started out with a single market stall. He also had the best brain on my MBA course.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Luke managed to talk his way onto the course with no qualifications whatsoever.’
She gave him a level stare. ‘If you’re talking about degrees, I didn’t go to university, either. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘I didn’t say there was—and, frankly, in your line of business, it’s experience and flair that counts, not paper qualifications.’
She coughed. ‘I didn’t say I had no paper qualifications. Of course I do. I studied while I got practical work experience.’
‘So when did you decide to go it alone?’ he asked curiously.
Now there was a question and a half. ‘I set up Amazing Tastes four years ago,’ she answered carefully. Karim didn’t need to know about before.
‘Brave move.’
‘I enjoy a challenge.’
He gestured towards the brown paper bag. ‘There’s your challenge for today.’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Do you want a coffee while we’re discussing menus?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Then go and sit down.’ She shooed him over to her conservatory, and put the flowers in water while she waited for the kettle to boil. She had just enough vases to contain them all, but it was a close-run thing. A completely over-the-top gesture, and one she should’ve disapproved of—but she loved the fact that he’d bought her so many beautiful spring flowers. Especially the irises, because he’d clearly remembered how much she loved blue flowers.
She took two mugs of coffee over to the conservatory and set them on the table, and made sure she sat opposite him—far enough away so they couldn’t actually touch—before talking him through the menus she’d devised.
‘Sounds good to me,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘So how does the catering work? Do you cook it here and bring it over, or do you have the ingredients delivered to my place and cook there?’
‘I bring the ingredients to your place,’ she said. ‘Unless it’s something that needs to be prepared well in advance, I prefer to cook everything fresh at my client’s. And your kitchen’s as good as mine.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll bring my own knives and pans, though.’
‘How do you know mine aren’t good enough?’
‘Apart from the fact I’m used to working with mine, they’re the tools of my trade…and I’m fussy.’
‘I’ll remember that.’ He paused. ‘Actually, some of those dishes do need to be prepared well in advance. Preferably the day before, so they have time to marinade and let the flavours develop.’
She coughed. ‘You once told me you believed in letting your staff get on with their job without interference.’
‘I do. But you’re not my staff.’
‘You’re paying me to do a job, which amounts to the same thing.’
‘Not for tax purposes, it doesn’t. You’re not my employee.’
‘Don’t split hairs. You know what I mean. And you’re interfering.’
‘And whose country’s cuisine are we talking about?’ he fenced.
‘Not yours or mine,’ she said tartly. ‘This is fusion food. It’s designed to give people a taste of your country while also making them feel at home here.’
‘Fine. What time do you need access to the kitchen?’
She looked at him. ‘Oh. I assumed that you worked from your flat. Your dining room’s a lot like a boardroom.’
‘I do, and it is,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be under your feet while you’re working.’
‘Your kitchen will be completely out of bounds,’ she warned. ‘It’ll be my work area. And I don’t like being interrupted when I’m working.’
He grinned. ‘So you’re one of these temperamental chefs who swears a lot and hits people with a frying pan, are you?’
She laughed back. ‘Hardly. But I’m serious, Karim. If you want me to do a good job, you need to give me the space to do it.’
‘I’ll be completely professional,’ he said. ‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’
‘I’ll arrive at ten. I’ll be bringing my van.’
‘Fine. Park outside and call me—Rafiq will take your equipment up to the flat and park your van in the secure parking underneath the complex.’ He smiled. ‘Now that’s all sorted…come and sit with me.’
‘This is business.’
‘We’ve finished business. This is you and me,’ he corrected. ‘So either you come here and sit on my lap…or I’ll come over to you.’
‘What, you’re going to sit on my lap?’ she teased.
‘Now you’re stretching my patience, woman. Enough.’ He stood up, walked over to her, scooped her off the chair and sat down in her place, settling her on his lap.
‘You’re just a caveman at heart,’ she accused.
‘And your point is?’
Before she had the chance to answer, he kissed her. Thoroughly.
‘So. Now we’ve agreed that,’ he said, ‘what are you doing for the rest of the day?’
‘Writing my shopping list for tomorrow morning. I’m using as much organic stuff as possible, by the way,’ she said.
‘Fine.’ He nibbled his way along her jawline. ‘I’d love to take you out to dinner tonight.’
She could hear the ‘but’, and said it for him.
He sighed. ‘I have a tedious meeting to attend.’
‘You mean, you’re going to a party,’ she said dryly.
He nodded. ‘Though I’ll be leaving early.’ He paused. ‘Maybe I could come and see you on the way home.’
‘That depends on your definition of early.’
‘You’re planning an early night?’ He smiled. ‘Good. I like the sound of that.’
Did he mean he was thinking of joining her? Was he inviting himself to stay overnight? This was moving way too fast for her. ‘Karim, we can’t do this.’
‘Yes, we can. And don’t argue. We both know all I have to do is kiss you.’
She scowled. ‘That’s arrogant.’
‘Maybe, but it’s also true.’
It was, and that made things worse.
‘If it makes you feel any better,’ he said softly, ‘you put my head in a spin as well.’
Maybe, she thought, but not enough of a spin to ask me to go to the party with you. And even though she knew he looked on it as a business networking opportunity—which meant he’d be busy and she couldn’t be there to distract him—it still rankled. So she ignored his comment. ‘You’ll need to prepare for your “tedious” party. And I need to prepare things for tomorrow.’
‘You have a point. And I’m not going to encroach on your professional time. Though I reserve the right to encroach on your other time.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘Thank you, habibti.’
‘What for?’
‘Understanding that my job isn’t just nine to five.’
She felt the colour rush into her face. She hadn’t exactly been understanding. She’d been sulking and thinking like a jealous girlfriend—which she had no right to do, because she wasn’t officially his girlfriend and they’d agreed that their relationship was temporary. Even crosser with herself, she slid off his lap. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He smiled. ‘Bring the pomegranate with you.’ He stood up, and she saw him out; though she found, once her shopping list was done, she couldn’t really settle to anything.
This wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all. She’d promised herself, after Jeff, that she’d never let anyone distract her from her business again. And what was she doing? Mooning around after a playboy who’d already made it clear to her that they had no future. So much for thinking that she could handle this.
Later that evening, her mobile phone beeped. She flicked into the text screen and realised the message was from Karim.
Party **extremely** tedious, food nowhere near as good as yours.
Good, she texted back.
Tomorrow’s too far away. Can I call in on my way home?
Too, too tempting. No. Am going to sleep now.
Two seconds later, the phone rang. ‘You’re in bed?’ Karim asked. ‘What are you wearing?’
She sucked in a breath. ‘Karim, you’re in a public place! You can’t have this kind of conversation with me.’
‘Yes, I can—I’m in the foyer outside and nobody can hear me. I excused myself to make a business call.’
‘Even so—Karim, we’re not having this conversation.’
He laughed softly. ‘Chicken. Don’t you want to have phone sex with me?’
Oh-h-h. Even the suggestion made her wet. ‘I’m not a chicken,’ she said primly. ‘I’m being sensible.’
‘How about I tell you what I’m wearing?’ he suggested.
‘No.’
‘I could always tell you about my bath…’ His voice was full of amusement, and she could imagine that sexy mouth smiling. That sexy mouth working against her skin, teasing her into arousal…
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.’
‘Then goodnight, habibti. Pleasant dreams.’
‘Goodnight,’ she said, but she was smiling when she put the phone down again.