Free Irresistible You by Lynne Connolly Page A

people who saw it. Elise had seen it happen and felt it, too. Especially when he turned that devastating grin on to her. His big hand enclosed hers in warmth. “Pleased to meet you Elise.”
    “Again.”
    He raised a brow. “Again? I feel sure I’d have remembered your devastating eyes, the colour of the sky at midnight.”
    Cheesy. Did he turn that on for all the customers? Not judging by that teasing expression quirking the corners of his mouth. He was taunting her to say something back. “Clearly our meeting was more memorable for me. At Durbin’s art gallery at the beginning of the year.”
    “Ah yes. Pleased to meet you again, Ms—’
    “Elise.”
    “Elise. And I am Remy.”
    She refrained from telling him that she knew. He turned so he faced the same way they did, and put his hand at the small of her back. Perfectly acceptable thing to do, except that he knew the way her senses rioted every time he touched her. “Let me show you my—kitchen.” The small pause came as a tantalizing break, almost a flirtation.
    Almost nothing. It was flirtation, pure and simple. And that touch seared through her, into her guilty flesh. She forced herself not to squirm.
    He guided them around the stations in the kitchens, introducing the main members of his staff. “This is Jacques—he’s key in helping create the entrees. She schooled her face not to grimace at the memory of that awful food. He kept his hand at her back, but lowered it, just a fraction, to graze the top of her buttocks, then slid it back up again. Elise swallowed.
    “You enjoyed your meal?” When Remy said it like that, she didn’t think of food.
    “It was very nice.”
    “Nice?” That grin ought to be outlawed. A spark of anger ignited deep inside her. Was he trying to manipulate her into doing a good review? She’d never do it, and he should know that by now. But she wouldn’t let anyone manipulate to her. Apart from anything else, her pride was at stake.
    If she hadn’t been so aware of him, she’d have missed the small nod he gave to his dessert chef, who proceeded to smile at Maya with an ease worthy of her boss and draw her in with promises of chocolate and lemon sorbet.
    The way to Maya’s heart. Remy was already drawing Elise on, towards a rank of doors. “I’d like to show you how our preserves are stored.”
    Good, because she needed a private word with him. He opened the door and ushered her in, perfectly politely, then flicked on the light and closed the door gently behind them.
    Rows of jewel-coloured preserves greeted her, their clear glass jars glinting. “Do you make these yourself?”
    “Some.” His voice sounded deeper, harsher. “Most.”
    Catching her shoulders, he swung her around so their chests collided in a maelstrom of heat and need, then brought his mouth down to meet hers in a far from gentle kiss.
    She opened her mouth to meet his onslaught, brought one hand up to slide through his silky hair, ruffling it into its natural curls. Dear God, she shouldn’t do this, but how could she not? He drew her close with one arm around her waist, the other higher, his hand splayed over her back in the possessive gesture she loved.
    He explored her mouth in a savage, rampant act of taking but she gave as good as she got, returning hot and strong. Wanting more, always wanting more. Where Remy was concerned, she’d never get enough. She hungered for him when he wasn’t with her, and in the time they could spare from their busy lives, took him with a voracity only matched by his.
    He finished the kiss only to frame her face with one hand, his fingers catching in her dark curls, before he came back for more.
    So strong, so hot and so everything she wanted.
    “I need you,” he muttered. “What you do to me, Elise.”
    How could she resist him? ‘Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Girard?”
    His answer was simple, but devastating. “Yes.”
    “Now?”
    “Your place or mine?” He glanced around, a wicked grin on his face.