Tempting Donovan Ford (12 page)

Their eyes met, locked.
Ignoring this would make it go away
, his ass. It wasn’t going away. Not now, not before and definitely not in the future. He pushed the folder containing an outline of Mal’s ideas toward Julia without looking at it. No, he was still looking at her.

At the light color that rose to her cheeks, the way she licked the corner of her mouth and the way she didn’t look away from him, either. “I wasn’t late.”

If she looked at him this way, she could be late anytime she wanted. “Fine. I was early.” She smiled and he wondered if he should just forget propriety and kiss her now.

Instead, he nudged the folder until it bumped her hand. “Take a look at Mal’s plan and then we’ll discuss.” Because the next time he kissed Julia, it wouldn’t be with an office full of employees just outside the door. It would be somewhere private, where they could explore this attraction without fear of being interrupted.

But she didn’t look at the folder. “Donovan. We...I need to keep this professional.”

“We’re professional.” Wasn’t he in a suit? Hadn’t he just decided that kissing her in the boardroom was inappropriate?

Julia shook her head. Her hair was down. He usually saw it pulled back in a low knot as required by food-safety standards. He liked it this way, wanted to slip his fingers through those soft strands. “We’re not.” She lowered her gaze. “We both know that.”

Donovan started to reach out to take her hand but stopped himself. Trying to convince her things were perfectly professional between them meant not holding her hand, even if she let him. “Then let’s talk about it.” He took a seat two away from her, creating a barrier of air between them. “What do you want?”

She lifted her eyes from her lap. “This isn’t about what I want, Donovan.”

“I think it is.” He maintained his casual pose in the seat. “Clearly, you have some concerns. Tell me what they are so we can figure out how to solve them.”

“You think it’ll be that easy?” Her eyes dropped again.

“Not if you’re going to play the mysterious woman, no.” She shot him a look full of fire and conflict. He shrugged it off. “So tell me.”

“I just...” She paused. “We can’t act on whatever this is.” She waved a hand between the two of them. He waited for her to elaborate. She didn’t disappoint. “I have to think about my future, my career.”

“And dating isn’t part of that future?”

She scowled. “It is. It will be,” she amended. “But not with you.”

That stung. “Is there something wrong with me?” Donovan tried to keep his tone light, but even he heard the whip of hurt behind his words.

“No.” She exhaled. “But I need to focus on my career right now. I’m still new in this market. I need to make a name for myself.”

“And that’s what we’re here to talk about.” But he didn’t nudge her back to the plan in front of her. He stared at her, watching her tongue dart out to lick her lips, noting the lock of hair that curled across the curve of her cheek. “Julia.”

“I have to focus on my career, and part of that is my reputation. How things look to other people.” She lowered her hands to the chair arms, squeezed. “If we get involved, people will talk.”

What?
“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who.” Her eyes rested on his. “It’s what they’ll say.” He saw her deep intake of breath. “If we get involved, they’ll think I’m sleeping with you to keep my job.”

Her words caught him off guard. “Do you really think that will happen? You were the executive chef long before we bought the restaurant. It’s not unheard of to keep the staff after a purchase.”

“No.” She leveled a gaze at him. “But it won’t matter. It’s juicier to make up salacious details about our sex life.”

“We have a sex life?”

But she didn’t smile at his joke. “I’m serious, Donovan.”

“I know. Sorry,” he apologized. “But do you honestly think people will still say that after they’ve tasted your food? Personally, I think it speaks for itself.”

“Thank you for saying that.” The tension around her eyes eased, but for only a moment. “Unfortunately, it won’t be enough. People will say the food is good but not that good. They won’t be able to untangle my professional skills from the ones they’ll think I’m showing you behind closed doors.”

He considered it, then shook his head. “No, you’re wrong. Maybe in the past that might have been true, but times have changed and your food is good enough.”

“Donovan.” Her voice was soft. He wanted to reach out and tuck the loose hair behind her ear. “We should get to work.”

“We should.” But he didn’t move. Her words were eating at him. “Are you really willing to let everything go because you’re afraid?”

“I’m not afraid.” But her eyes skittered away from his.

“It’s okay to feel that way.” He rolled his chair next to hers so the arms bumped. She blinked but didn’t say anything, not when he swiveled her seat so she faced him. Not when he leaned forward. And not when his lips were less than an inch from hers. “But don’t let that define you.”

“Donovan.”

He leaned forward and then they were interrupted by a knock at the boardroom door.

“Oh, good.” Mal pushed her way inside, nodding at both of them. “You’re still here. What did I miss?”

Seriously? Again? He was going to get his entire family bells that they had to wear around their necks like cats so he could hear them coming and make necessary plans to prevent them from barging in when he was just about to connect with Julia.

Julia rolled away from him and lifted a hand to move that lock of hair away from her cheek. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he saw a shudder run through her.

Donovan looked at his sister. “Nothing,” he said. Absolutely nothing thanks to his sister’s heinous timing.

“Great.” Mal sat down in a chair across the table. “Then let’s get started.” She motioned to the closed folder still in front of Julia. “Take a look through that, Julia, and then we’ll talk details.” Mal shrugged out of her coat, draping it across a chair beside her and pulling a laptop out of her leather briefcase.

“Of course.” Julia flipped open the folder and started to read the contents.

Donovan studied her. Until he realized he was gawking and that would surely be noticed by his sister. He turned to Mal, who was thankfully still tapping away on her laptop. “How did your meeting go?”

“Good.” She didn’t raise her eyes. “I think it’ll be great for business.”

Donovan suddenly realized she might spill the beans about the restaurant and decision to keep it in the family. Hell. He darted a glance at Julia, but she didn’t look up, apparently not sensing his sudden panic. “Good. We’ll discuss details later.”

Julia did look up then, but to Donovan’s relief her question wasn’t about the meeting he’d just mentioned. She pointed at the paper in front of her. “You want me to do
Wake Up, Vancouver
?”

Wake Up, Vancouver
was the most popular morning news program in the city. An appearance there would be sure to boost both their profile and their reservations.

“We both think you’ll be perfect,” Donovan said. He and Mal had discussed how they should take advantage of Julia’s sultry French looks. “We thought maybe the first week we’re open.” So the people who saw the show could call and make reservations right away.

Julia blinked and looked back at the paper. “And we’re participating in Bounty of Whistler next month?” Bounty of Whistler was a spring food festival created as a counterpoint to that town’s wildly successful winter event, Cornucopia
.
This was its first year. “The restaurant won’t even be open yet.”

La Petite Bouchée was closing next week and would remain closed for three weeks while the renovations they’d agreed upon were made. The food festival, happening the first week of March, fell right in the middle of that.

“Yes, it’s perfect timing.” Mal stopped typing. “It’ll be a test run of sorts. You can serve some of your new menu items and I’ll get us some good media coverage, so when we do open, there’s already interest built. I was thinking of just a booth, but we have the opportunity to take over a restaurant for the night. One of the other participants backed out.”

“Take over a restaurant.” Donovan saw the spark of interest in Julia’s eyes. “A tasting menu paired with wines.”

“Exactly.” The same spark lit Mal’s eyes. Donovan was glad to see it. For too long, his sister had seemed quiet, too inwardly focused for his liking. He knew it was her personal life, whatever was happening between her and Travis, but he didn’t like seeing her so unhappy. Mal had always been fiery, the kind who gave as good as she got, but most days, that Mal seemed to be in hiding. “Donovan will be with you at the festival, so all you’ll have to worry about is cooking and introducing each course. Everything else will be handled by him.”

Donovan blinked. This was news to him. When Mal had mentioned the idea earlier this week, she had been clear that she was the one who knew media and public relations, so she was the one who should be there. And Donovan could hardly say that his crush overrode her business sense. So why was she handing him the reins now? But when he looked at her, she merely gave a quick head shake. A sibling gesture that meant they would talk about it later.

Julia flicked a glance at him and then back to Mal. “It sounds great.”

“Good.” Mal made a few notes on her laptop and then pushed it to the side. “I realize this is probably a lot to take in all at once. Why don’t you take the folder home and look it over this week. We can meet to discuss any questions or concerns you have after that.”

When Julia looked at him, Donovan inclined his head in agreement. “Or you can call. You have my number, and I’m always around to answer.”

She nodded. Donovan considered adding that she could just call him if she felt like it, but bit back the words. That was a conversation for another time, one where his sister wasn’t listening in on every word.

“Unless there’s anything you can think of now?”

“No.” Julia looked at the folder. “No, you’ve given me plenty to think about, though.”

When he returned to his office after walking Julia to the elevator, Mal was waiting for him. With Owen.

He swallowed the sigh that threatened to push through his closed lips. He loved his siblings; he really did. But sometimes a man just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and his raging libido. Sometimes a man didn’t get that choice, though.

“What’s up?” He sat behind his desk, jiggling his mouse to wake up the computer and subtly—okay, maybe not so subtly—letting the pair know that this needed to be short and sweet. Where had Owen come from, anyway? He hadn’t been in the office earlier and he certainly hadn’t arrived while Donovan had been escorting Julia out because he would have spotted him in the hallway. “Why are you here?”

Owen blinked, his head pulling back fractionally. “I wanted to hear about the meeting.”

“Oh.” Donovan frowned. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Over the past month, rather than showing signs of disinterest in the family business as he always had, Owen was taking on a larger role and asking for more responsibility. Donovan still wasn’t sure if he appreciated that his younger brother was showing some initiative or was annoyed that he was sticking his nose into things that had been running perfectly well without him. Probably a bit of both. “Why’s that?” Owen’s responsibilities lay with Elephants—that was it. He had no current role in La Petite Bouchée and, given the fact that Gus would be the one to take over from Donovan, no role in its future, either.

“Because I want to help.”

Donovan didn’t doubt his brother’s sincerity, just his ability to follow through. “I appreciate the offer, but Mal and I have got this covered.”
Now, run along, little brother, and let the grown-ups talk.

Owen must have sensed his thoughts because his face tightened. “You know I want to be more involved.”

“And you are,” Donovan pointed out. “You’ve been handling Elephants for a while now.”

“And?”

Donovan frowned. Did Owen want a parade? A gold trophy for doing the same things that he and Mal, before she’d left to start her own bistro in Aruba, had been doing for years? “And what?”

“Never mind.” Owen shook his head. His usual easygoing demeanor replaced with something sharp and a little sour. “You know, Donovan, you’ve been on my ass for years about how I don’t take enough responsibility with the company. But now, when I’m trying, you shut me out.” He pushed himself out of the chair. “I’ll talk to you later, Mal.” Then left without a backward glance.

Donovan watched him go, feeling a twist of uncertainty in his belly, and then turned to his sister. Mal scowled. At him. “What?”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him?”

Donovan ran a hand through his hair and shoved the uncertainty aside. He
was
hard on Owen. He knew that, but he had to be. The business needed him to be. It was all well and good for Owen to claim an interest in the family holdings now, to offer his help and quite probably to act on it. But his history indicated it would be a passing fancy and Donovan wasn’t interested in training his younger brother only to have it be a waste of time. “He’s had plenty of opportunity to get involved before.”

“I know.” Mal heaved out a sigh and crossed her legs. She’d removed her suit jacket. Her shirt was bright red and matched the soles of her shoes. “But maybe he’s finally ready. Don’t you think we should give him the chance?”

“Probably.” Donovan told himself that this was a special situation and poor timing on Owen’s part. “But Dad’s not ready to come back and the restaurant is a far bigger project than we usually have in spring. Maybe once the renovations are done and the campaign is over.” Once their dad was back, maybe Donovan could start to bring Owen in a little more. A bit of extra work here and there, see if it was something Owen could stick with or if he’d start to blow them off. Something that wouldn’t destroy their bottom line or productivity.

“I think you need to give him a chance.”

“I will, Mal.” He really would. But not now. Not with La Petite Bouchée and Julia. “But this isn’t the right occasion.” He leaned back in his chair, finished with that topic. “Now, you want to tell me why I’m going to the food festival and not you?” Not that he wasn’t looking forward to it, but it wasn’t like Mal to pass her load on to anyone else without good reason. He wanted to hear it.