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Pure Indulgence. Janelle DenisonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Pure Indulgence - Janelle Denison


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image of that provocative fantasy had the fly of his jeans growing uncomfortably tight as he drove toward Seaport Village, reminding him just how long he’d been without a woman.

      He’d never slept with Gretta and had ended things with her the night of the dinner, which had resulted in her slamming her door in his face. But her scorn was a small price to pay for his freedom. With new and exciting prospects beckoning to him, he felt more charged and alive than he had in months, possibly years. Tremaine’s Downtown was getting a new dessert menu, and now he was completely free to explore his attraction to Kayla.

      Jack turned into the Seaport Village parking lot, parked his Escalade, and headed to the directory in front of the shops. He found a listing for Pure Indulgence and followed the map to her place of business, which was located between a wind-chime store and an art gallery.

      He stepped inside the bakery shop and was immediately embraced by the delicious fragrance of sweet confections and baked goods. It was after six in the evening, yet the place was impressively packed with customers waiting their turn to order from the glass displays filled with an array of cakes, cookies, candies, and other treats. Two young girls worked quickly and efficiently behind the counter, but Kayla was nowhere in sight.

      It would serve him right if she wasn’t there, since he hadn’t called ahead to make an appointment. But instead of planning a meeting with her, which seemed impossible with his schedule lately, he’d grabbed the first free moment he’d had in days, and before anything else could demand his attention, he’d headed toward Seaport Village.

      After a few minutes of waiting for the crowd to thin, he caught the attention of one of the workers and motioned her over. “Excuse me, is Kayla Thomas here?”

      The girl eyed him curiously. “Did you have an appointment to see her?” she asked, though her cautious tone told him she didn’t think it was likely.

      The woman obviously thought he was selling something, when in fact he’d be buying. But he understood the woman’s hesitation, as well as her loyalty in protecting her boss from unwanted solicitors. “She should be expecting me,” he replied easily, and with just enough assertiveness to sound confident that Kayla would agree to see him. “Tell her it’s Jack Tremaine.”

      “Let me see if she’s available,” she said, then disappeared through a swinging door that led to a back kitchen area.

      Kayla was immersed in accounting paperwork in her office when her full-time employee, Sarah, knocked lightly on her open door, then stepped inside.

      “Do you need help out front?” Kayla asked automatically.

      From six to seven during the week was the shop’s busiest time, when tourists wanted a sweet treat before heading back to their hotels, and locals stopped in to buy their families’ favorite dessert on their way home from work. Kayla was always prepared to step in and help at the front counter if necessary.

      “It’s the normal six o’clock rush, but we’ve got it under control,” Sarah assured her. “Actually, there’s a man here who asked to see you. His name is Jack Tremaine, and he said you were expecting him?”

      Just the mere mention of Jack’s name was enough to send an unexpected warmth spreading through Kayla’s veins, not to mention a good dose of shock. After five days of not hearing from him, she’d convinced herself that he hadn’t been serious about his interest in revamping his dessert menu. She’d also considered the possibility that he’d found a more experienced, well-known company to handle the job instead of taking a risk with a small, up-and-coming bakery.

      She’d finally come to terms with that probability, and now here he was, asking for her—and she was nowhere near prepared to see him again. Not mentally, anyway. She felt thrown off balance, and she didn’t care for the bit of hope scratching below the surface of her shock.

      She took a deep breath in an attempt to regain her composure, and said to her employee, “Give me a minute, and I’ll be right out.”

      Once Sarah was gone, Kayla stood and made a quick trip to the rest room. As she was washing her hands, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and cringed. Good Lord, she looked a mess. Then again, she had spent most of the day elbow-deep in flour and sugar.

      She took off her stained apron, but there were a few smudges of chocolate on her baggy T-shirt that she couldn’t do much about. As for her hair, wispy strands had escaped her ponytail and there were sugar granules on her cheek. She wiped them away with her hand. She didn’t wear much makeup, but what she had put on that morning was nearly gone. She found herself opening the medicine cabinet over the sink and using the colored, flavored lip gloss she kept in there to keep her lips from getting dry and chapped.

      She made a sound of disgust at herself for even primping that much for Jack Tremaine. He wasn’t there to seduce her, for crying out loud, and she had no desire to try and impress him. Okay, so that was a blatant lie, but what he saw was what he got—a woman who worked hard for a living and had no qualms about looking the part.

      With a decisive nod, and determined to be all business this time with Jack Tremaine, she headed out to the front of the shop.

      Broad-shouldered and a good six inches taller than any of her customers, all of which at the moment were female, she was able to spot him immediately. He was standing by one of the display cases, checking out the goods and conversing with a few of her customers who no doubt were drawn to his good looks and disarming grin.

      He’d obviously asked about their favorite Pure Indulgence desserts, because the older, gray-haired woman next to him was raving about the Boston Cream pies and custard tarts, while another patron chimed in about how fantastic the lemon cheesecake bars were.

      He thanked them for their opinions, and reached out to take a sample from the tray on the counter that she always kept filled with bite-size pieces of the previous day’s desserts so her customers could try something new before purchasing the item. It was amazing how many extra sales she generated due to that platter of tidbits, and those samples had become one of her best forms of advertising.

      Jack tossed a generous chunk of baked apple crisp into his mouth, then turned around to find her standing behind him. He came to an abrupt stop, his vivid blue eyes widening ever so slightly, making him look like a little boy who’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except, other than the impish grin curving the corner of his sensual lips, there was nothing boyish about him.

      She didn’t think it possible, but the man was even sexier and more gorgeous than she remembered, and she supposed his casual attire was partly responsible for making him look so damned tempting. Unlike the suit he’d worn the other night, the collared shirt he wore accentuated his wide chest and flat belly, and well-worn jeans gave her a perfect view of his narrow hips and long, powerful-looking legs. His body was athletically honed, strong and lean and all male, and built to make a woman entertain all kinds of lascivious, sinful thoughts. The man was dangerous, potent stuff.

      “Hi, there,” he said once he had the chance to swallow his mouthful of apple crisp.

      “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying the samples,” she said, more amused than she wanted to be by his natural, easygoing charm.

      “I couldn’t help myself.” His sultry grin matched the deep, velvet-edge timbre of his voice. “I told you the other night that I have little willpower when it comes to anything sweet.”

      So he had, though his words today sounded like a seductive warning directed toward her. His vibrant gaze drifted to her lips, as if contemplating just how sweet she’d taste, and a tremor of awareness rippled through her.

      Damn her traitorous body, anyway, she thought, and crossed her arms over her chest to cover the telltale sign of her tight nipples pressing against the front of her shirt. “Be careful, you wouldn’t want to overdose on sugar.”

      “I doubt that’s possible,” he murmured in bemusement. “But, man, what a way to go.”

      She almost laughed, then caught herself. He was flirting with her again,


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