Once Tempted Page 10

  Across the gleaming stainless steel kitchen, Jeff and his sous-chef, Chris; his prep cook, Carter; and his line cook, Mack; were already dicing vegetables for dinner. When he worked, Jeff liked to rock out to whatever was on someone’s iPod. From what Tess could surmise whenever she hurried into the kitchen to drop off dirty dishes with Tim, the dishwasher on duty, and pick up a new order, the playlist du jour was composed of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Alice in Chains, and the Deftones.

  None of these were especially Tess’s favorites, but she wasn’t stupid enough to criticize any of the kitchen staff’s musical tastes, not when three of the men behind the counter were wielding wickedly sharp knives. Jeff Sullivan’s temper was equally sharp. Mainly he used it to eviscerate any fool less than anal with the plating.

  To Tess he’d been quite sweet since he’d wrung a promise from her that she’d make him a home-cooked Italian meal. She was going to prepare her mother’s signature comfort dish: baked penne with tomatoes, cream, and five cheeses. A second helping of her mother’s dish risked a week of wearing crisis pants and loose sweaters, but every bite was worth the gazillion calories. To complete the meal Tess planned to make two of Mrs. Vecchio’s dishes: a tart green salad of arugula, endive, shaved parmesan, and lemon vinaigrette, and a dessert of a crostata with fig jam. Anna had promised to email the recipe for the crostata.

  Jeff loved the idea of sampling recipes from Anna and Tess’s mothers, claiming that home cooking was the real thing and that these dishes should form the backbone of any restaurant. The Silver Creek chef knew his cucina italiana. He’d interned at one of Tuscany’s top restaurants. And he’d obviously picked up some key vocabulary during his internship. As Tess passed through the swinging doors, the Nine Inch Nails were wailing and, from their respective stations across the wide aisle, Jeff and Roo were engaging in a seriously competitive swearing smackdown.

  It was all a little much. She passed the dirty china and cutlery to Tim and nearly groaned in relief as their weight was removed from her tray. With each roundtrip, the loads had gotten heavier. By now it seemed as if they weighed a ton. She dreaded the idea of tipping a tray over by mistake and sending teapots and baked goodies flying in the middle of Adele and Daniel’s desert-hued lounge. She’d gotten out of waitressing shape, but then, whenever she’d served at the events catered by La Dolce Vita, she hadn’t been hefting six-cup teapots and stacked plates—merely light-as-air appetizers and pastries. With a wince she shook out her arm and then jammed her fist into the small of her back. It, too, ached.

  “Here’s your order, Tess,” Roo broke off swearing long enough to tell her.

  “Great.” She eyed the tray. Chocolate-dipped strawberries, apple tartlets, sandwiches, and tea for two. The order was for a couple seated at the small table by the window. Ignoring her aching arms, she lifted the tray. From behind, she felt a whoosh of air as the kitchen door swung open, but assumed it was Liz, another of the servers. She turned and nearly slammed into Ward.

  “Careful there.” He reached out a hand to steady her, which, of course, did nothing of the kind.

  “Thanks,” she muttered and then pressed her lips together so they wouldn’t betray the trembling feeling his touch engendered. Readjusting the tray, she made to step around him. She was careful not to look at him again. He’d changed into a black button-down shirt and black jeans and looked far too good.

  “Almost done?” he asked.

  She realized with a start that it must be almost time to call his friends. “High tea hasn’t slowed down yet. As much as I’d love to hang around and chat, we have some ridiculously hungry guests.” She left the kitchen, quite pleased that Ward Knowles was going to have to cool his cowboy heels.

  In the lounge, she crossed Gordon, one of the regular servers, and exchanged a comical look of dismay with him as she wended her way to the opposite end of the bustling lounge. The spacious room was filled with the buzz of voices and the clinking of china.

  As she approached the couple by the window they straightened in their armchairs. Anticipation lit their faces. With a professional smile she began placing their order on the circular glass-topped table, lowering the teapot first and then the cups and saucers around the outer rim of the tray. The trick was to keep it balanced even as her arm muscles quivered in relief from the lightened load. Last came the chocolate-dipped strawberries, tartlets, and sandwiches.

  “Mmm. This looks amazing, doesn’t it, Kirk?”

  “Just the ticket. We rode out this morning on a long trail ride.”

  “The most lovely trail ride,” the woman volunteered. “Then after lunch I spent an hour and a half sketching the lambs. Kirk brought his camera and took pictures. You can see why we’ve worked up an appetite. The lambs are so precious. You’ve seen them, of course.”

  Tess took the fifth on that one. “Hmm, well, you’ve certainly had a busy day.”

  “And we’re looking forward to a busy night.” Kirk wiggled his eyebrows. “Dancing and such. The such will be particularly fun, won’t it, Madlon?”

  His wife replied with an easy, comfortable laugh.

  Tess’s smile warmed. She liked their open affection for each other. It reminded her of how Daniel and Adele interacted. Under other circumstances she might have lingered at their table. But she’d noticed a group of four that had just settled onto the sofa and wingback chairs across the room and Gordon was still in the kitchen, so she tucked the tray beneath her arm. “Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day.”

  “Hard not to, at a place like this.”

  “You, too, my dear,” the woman named Madlon offered kindly.

  “How about a sandwich, Kirk?” She picked up the plate and smiled at her husband.

  “Thanks, love.”

  Tess told herself not to be envious of the couple, who not only were enjoying this Valentine’s Day together but from the looks of it would also share many more.

  She and David hadn’t lasted long enough to celebrate a single one.

  She could barely suppress her irritation when she returned to the kitchen and found that Ward was still there. He was standing behind the counter next to Roo, loading up a tray of strawberries, savory biscuits, and nut brittle. It was the iced tea with sprigs of mint that was the giveaway. A couple had ordered iced rather than hot tea because they’d just finished a yoga session and wanted something cool to quench their thirst.

  “That’s my order.” At this point she didn’t care that she sounded like one of the grumps in her old neighborhood who shooed kids away from playing on the sidewalk outside his house. Then it occurred to her that the grumpy geezers wouldn’t dare shoo someone like Ward away, which didn’t improve her mood one iota.

  “That it is,” he replied, unfazed by her tone. “And the sooner we get it out, the sooner you and I can conference call with Brian and Carrie.”

  “Good luck with that. A party of four just came in.” To Roo she said, “They want two plates of sandwiches, four red velvet cupcakes, the nut brittle, and four granola scones.”

  Roo rattled off a string of new vocabulary words. “Did I get that last one right?”

  “No, it’s ‘pezzo’ di merda, not pozzo.”

  Tess saw Ward’s dark brows shoot up in astonishment. Her mood lightened a shade.

  “Right. Pezzo. What’s the matter with these people? Seating for dinner starts at six!” Roo tried out another couple of curses for good measure.

  “Yeah, well, this party went horseback riding this morning. Now they want to eat like horses.”

  “Generally when people come to stay at a working ranch, they partake in ranch activities.”

  “Huh. Go figure.” Tess thought about what activity she’d like to indulge in: a long hot soak for her abused muscles. But then she met Ward’s eyes and an entirely different activity suggested itself. The gunslinger outfit—black on black—emphasized his muscled build. He looked strong and dangerous and all too virile, and it had been far too long since she’d felt a man’s touch.
>
  But it wasn’t going to be this man touching her. Not now, not ever, no matter how much her body might plead otherwise.

  Damn, why was her life so complicated? Why did she keep being attracted to men who were totally wrong for her?

  She was now convinced that the reason David had fallen for her was that she’d been absolutely wrong for him since she symbolized everything his parents weren’t. Rebellious, David hadn’t been content merely to date her. The perfect way to thumb his nose at his parents had been to marry her, the proof their outrage at having their name connected with a Casari rather than a Cooke or a Campbell. But once the novelty of marrying her and the appeal of royally pissing off the elder Bradfords had grown old, David began to view their marriage as a prison. He’d broken free and never looked back.

  It was impossible for her to know exactly how great a role his illness had played in the destruction of their marriage. Things had gone bad so quickly it was hard to believe he also hadn’t experienced a change of heart—that when marriage no longer appealed, he simply decided to ignore the vows he’d uttered.

  Ward wasn’t like that. He obviously took his responsibilities seriously. But just because Ward might differ from David in terms of temperament, that didn’t make him any more suitable.

  She could console herself that at least with Ward she wasn’t stupid enough to confuse basic physical attraction with any chance of a happily ever after. And while she might get twitchy and bothered any time she looked at him for longer than ten seconds, at least she saw his flaws—his bossy high-handedness—with crystal clarity. Surely that was progress.

  All she had to do was carefully monitor the number of seconds she allowed herself to look at him and she’d be okay. She figured five was her max. Six and she might start trembling and quivering as everything went all warm and fluttery inside her. And she’d have to be careful not to let him stand too close, because then she’d be feeling a lot more than warm and fluttery. More like sizzling and aching.

  She suddenly realized that that’s exactly what had happened—that she’d been staring at him, drowning in his blue-green gaze, mooning over his lean cheeks that were now shadowed with the hint of stubble and thinking how they’d feel beneath her fingers.

  Her own cheeks flamed red. Horrified that she’d been lost in a man trance for Ward, she made to grab the tray, a move Ward immediately blocked by holding it. She tugged and nearly growled in frustration when it wouldn’t even slide a measly inch toward her. “Do you mind? The guests are waiting for their food.”

  “You’ve been relieved of duty.”

  “What? Are you nuts? I can’t leave Gordon and Liz to handle the bar and the lounge by themselves.”

  “You won’t. I’ve arranged for a replacement. Ah, here she is now. Took you long enough.”

  Tess spun around. Quinn was dressed in a clean white tuxedo shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Her hair was pulled back in a thick ponytail. This time she’d bothered with a brush. “Sorry. Had to wash up. All set and ready to serve, Roo.”

  “Then haul this tray out to—where are these guests sitting again, Tess?”

  “They’re sitting on the matching wingback chairs underneath the flower arrangement, the one with pussy willows—”

  “The humungous one?”

  “Yes. But really, Quinn, I can—”

  “Got it. Off I go. Ta-ta for now. Say hi to Brian and Carrie for me.” She lifted the tray and balanced it. The effort came with a grimace. “You must be stronger than you look, city girl. You’re going to owe me, Ward.”

  “No, I won’t. Get going before their iced tea melts.”

  “Yeah, yeah. What I do for love,” she muttered before pushing through the swinging doors.

  Tess turned to Ward. “That really wasn’t necessary.”

  “Yes, it was. I don’t want to keep Brian and Carrie waiting and the sooner we can get the ball rolling, the sooner we’ll know how many additional guests their parents want to invite, which is the biggest headache logistically speaking and one that will affect not only the number of extra rooms you need to book, but the food and entertainment, too. And Quinn’s just giving you grief. She knows she’s supposed to lend a hand whenever and wherever. It’s our job description.”

  Mr. Ward Knowles, High and Mighty Ruler of the World, was back, Tess thought with relief. If she could just focus on how much he annoyed her, surely she’d be able to ignore how attracted she was to the rest of him.

  “WE’LL CALL BRIAN and Carrie from my office. I texted Bri earlier and told him to expect our call,” Ward said.

  “All right.” Tess turned and exchanged goodbyes with Roo and Jeff and rattled off a few more pungent Italian oaths for Roo’s ever-expanding vocabulary, and they left, Ward following her down the hallway lined with enlarged photographs of Silver Creek in the different seasons. The carpeting muffled the sounds of their steps and the light was soft, making Tess’s white peasant blouse the brightest object in the space. Ward watched the metronome sweep of Tess’s thick ponytail against the white cotton as she moved.

  Damn, but she was a fascinating mix of contradictions, he thought. She possessed a lighthearted mix of spunky grit, intelligence, and humor. He’d seen it as she joked with Roo and Jeff and exchanged cheerful insults with the kitchen staff while whisking in and out of the kitchen with the energy of a V8 engine. But beneath her banter and can-do dynamism, Ward detected a deep well of reserve.

  He wondered about it. Of course he knew about her husband. But he sensed there was more that pained Tess and that she guarded those secret wounds carefully. He wondered with whom she would share those secrets.

  She obviously had guts. What had it been like for her to leave everything behind and come to a place like Acacia, where she knew not a soul? It made her sparkling cheerfulness that much more impressive. He couldn’t help but be intrigued.

  The genius of his mother’s plan to set him up with Tess was increasingly clear. Better not to think about Tess’s spirit, mind, or heart and what unknown events had shaped her. If he was to think about her, he should concentrate on the way she filled out her jeans.

  Because Tess in a pair of jeans was a pretty damn fantastic sight. Though he appreciated her dresses and the fine view they offered of her legs, the jeans she’d opted to wear to serve tea hugged all her curves, right up to her truly excellent ass.

  It was a good thing that he was behind her, so the view of her lush breasts offered by the scooped neck of her peasant blouse was hidden from him. Otherwise he’d be in danger of losing it altogether. Her butt was distraction enough. He imagined cupping those sweet cheeks and letting their weight fill his palms.

  God, Cupid must be laughing his chubby head off. This was not how he’d planned to spend Valentine’s Day, spinning erotic fantasies of Tess Casari.

  Any further sexual daydreams vanished when he saw Tess reach behind to knead the small of her back with her fist. Again. The first time he’d caught the involuntary gesture (and no way would the Tess he knew ever willingly show vulnerability) was in the kitchen. That was when he’d decided she needed relief, pronto. The second she passed through the swinging doors, he’d whipped out his cell and told Quinn to get down to the kitchen on the double.

  When Tess had returned, her tray was stacked with dirty dishes. Yet still she moved with grace and managed to dredge up another Italian curse for Roo’s entertainment. It was only when she slowed down long enough to scowl at his presence behind the stainless steel counter that he realized she was wearing the same sexy heels she’d had on earlier. The shoes did fine things for her legs but he couldn’t imagine how she’d survived wearing them to serve high tea to a bunch of famished guests.

  He’d probably be weeping from the pain.

  Which had made him all the more determined to stop her from taking another tray out to the guests. Luckily Quinn arrived before he had to take any extreme measures, like tying Tess up. But he’d known by the snooty angle of Tess’s cute little nose that she was not please
d with his tactics.

  As if that was anything new.

  In an effort to keep her distance, Tess had never ventured inside Ward’s office. As it was she saw him whenever he dropped by Adele’s office. Those encounters were unnerving enough. No need to tempt fate by stepping onto his turf.

  Ward’s office had a more modern feel than Adele’s. Yet the pieces were made of beautiful open-grained woods instead of the typical glass-and-steel furnishings common to many contemporary décors. His desk was large and square, and Ward had positioned it at an angle so that when he was working he could look out the windows onto the gardens. Past the gardens and landscaped shrubbery Tess spied the stone walls that surrounded the outdoor swimming pool and the terraces where guests could sun themselves. Beyond that she could see a few of the one- and two-bedroom cabins, but really only because she knew they were there. The architect and landscape designer had done a brilliant job of making the structures nearly invisible. Walking along the winding paths and coming upon one of the cabins hidden by dwarf pines and other shrubs was a little like discovering a magical wooden fort.

  From the room checks she performed with Adele, Tess knew the cabins’ interiors were as appealing as their exteriors. Adele, who’d selected the furnishings for each guest room and cabin at Silver Creek, knew how to achieve an appealing rustic elegance in the quarters. Guests could sleep on cloudlike beds and soak in oversized tubs and never know that less than a quarter of a mile beyond, cows munched, sheep bleated, horses galloped about, and goats did whatever goats do.

  If Tess were one of the ranch guests, she’d be happy to keep those critters forever at a comfortable remove.

  Ward had walked directly to his desk to turn the computer on. “Take a seat while I get hold of Brian and Carrie.”

  For once she was happy to follow his commands. Wordlessly she sank into the carved wooden chair facing the desk. It was surprisingly comfortable. Then again, after the day she’d had, a rocky ledge would have felt like heaven. She wiggled her toes inside her shoes, but her feet screamed for more relief. Surreptitiously she eased them out of her shoes and nearly groaned aloud.