LITMIR.BIZ

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filling. Please taste it before the ice cream melts.”

      Mackenzie opened the chartreuse napkin folded around her utensils. “Won’t you join us?”

      Sabrina’s stomach flip-flopped. “He can’t, he’s preparing—”

      “Love to,” Kit said. “For a minute.” He glanced at Sabrina for approval before pulling a chair out.

      She nodded, edging her chair over an inch. The kidney-shaped table shrank to half its previous size. “We should both get back to work.”

      “You have time to test my dish. That’s work, isn’t it?” Kit’s eyes crinkled…at Mackenzie.

      Sabrina stabbed the pastry and the warm chocolate filling oozed out. Mackenzie took a bite and rolled her eyes skyward. “Mmm, delicious.”

      Kit smiled a thank-you and then looked at Sabrina. “What do you think, boss?”

      She lifted a bit of the flaky pastry to her lips, wondering what had happened to kid. Kit knew she wasn’t his boss, of course. She was in charge of the serving staff and the lunch receipts and reported to the restaurant’s head manager each evening. The owners, Dominique and her partner, Curt Tyrone, dropped in occasionally, greeting guests and standing around gossiping while showing off their fabulous selves to best advantage.

      “Very good,” Sabrina said. “Although I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

      Kit lounged in his chair, fingers laced over his abdomen. “Oh?”

      “It’s true,” Mackenzie put in earnestly. “Sabrina’s taste buds are geared toward spicy foods. But I was just telling her that she should start eating more chocolate.”

      Sabrina would have kicked her sister under the table, but Kit’s stretched-out legs were in the way. He wore faded jeans and battered running shoes under his double-breasted chef’s coat.

      “We should all make it a habit to eat a bit of chocolate every day,” Kit said. “It does a body good.”

      “Exactly,” Mackenzie said. “But Sabrina only likes what’s bad for her.”

      “Ha.” Sabrina licked ice cream off her spoon. “My sister’s in the candy business,” she told Kit.

      “How interesting.” He focused on Mackenzie. “What do you do?”

      “I worked at Regal Foods in the sweets division until recently. Now I’m opening my own penny-candy emporium in the Village. It’s to be called Sweet Something.” Mackenzie shot her sister a mischievous glance. “Sabrina will have to bring you to the grand opening.”

      Kit’s gaze slid sideways; Sabrina felt it slip over her like warm honey. “I’d be delighted.”

      She stabbed the phyllo. “That’s marvy. So would I.”

      “Then it’s a date,” Mackenzie said.

      Sabrina glared. She was going to take the scissors to her sister’s hair herself and she would be no gentler than when she’d shorn all their Barbie dolls and made Mackenzie cry.

      Mackenzie went on as if Sabrina wasn’t giving her the squinty-eyed death ray. “What about you, Kit? How did you come to work at Decadence?”

      He shrugged. “Curt and Dominique found me working at a resort in Tahiti. They liked my desserts and offered me a job. I’ve never lived in New York City, so I gave it a try.”

      “Do you move around a lot?”

      “I have.”

      “So does Sabrina. You two must have a lot in common.”

      Again, Sabrina felt Kit’s eyes on her, but this time they weren’t nearly as warm. “Is that so?”

      “I like change.” She put down her spoon, realizing she’d polished her plate without being aware of it. The sweetness of the dessert lingered on her tongue, and she rather liked it. The rich chocolate was giving her a glow inside.

      An awkward silence had fallen, so Mackenzie moved the conversation forward in her usual faciliatory way. “Where are you from, Kit?”

      “A small town in Ohio. But I’ve lived all over.”

      “You have the slightest accent. It doesn’t sound like Ohio to me.”

      “I’m homogenized. A little Midwest twang, a little New England, a little French and Italian, all mixed up with a teaspoon of the lazy island lilt.”

      Mackenzie was getting more out of him in five minutes than Sabrina had in a week. But then, very little of their time together had been spent talking. Just staring, at least for her part. “Mackenzie and I grew up in suburban New York.”

      “Scarsdale.” Mackenzie nodded. “Our parents are still there.”

      “What do you mean still?” Sabrina said, even though Kit was watching and listening.

      “Again, then.” Mackenzie explained for Kit’s benefit. “Mom and Dad divorced when I was twelve and Sabrina was thirteen. They remarried six weeks ago.”

      Sabrina rolled her eyes. “It’s a suburban American fairy tale.”

      “Sounds like it to me.” Kit stood and took their plates. “I have to go back to work.”

      “Too late,” Sabrina said, giving him a saucy chin tilt and a flick of her hair. “You’ve already been reported to management.”

      Kit bent closer. “Then management will have to punish me.”

      She was riveted by his eyes. “Fifty lashes with a limp cannoli.”

      “Kinky,” he said, and walked away.

      “Nice meeting you,” Mackenzie called. She waited until he’d disappeared behind the steel porthole doors. “Hot damn.”

      Sabrina slumped. “You see what I’m up against?”

      “And you think that man doesn’t want you?”

      “He hasn’t made a single overture.”

      Mackenzie stared after Kit. “He looks like the type to go in for a slow, teasing seduction,” she said softly. “You’re so lucky.”

      “Lucky? Does that mean you’re letting me out of our deal?”

      Mackenzie gave a start. Her thoughts seemed far away. “Oh.” She looked across the table at her sister. “Umm, no.”

      “How can I possibly resist him?” Sabrina said with a soulful moan.

      “I already told you. Chocolate.”

      “That makes no sense. I ate an entire chocolate dessert two minutes ago and I can promise you that Kit looks just as attractive to me.”

      “You need to let the chocolate chemicals accumulate in your brain and bloodstream.”

      “Huh?”

      “Look at it this way. How did the chocolate make you feel?” Mackenzie dabbed her lips with the napkin. “It was a fabulous dish, by the way. Kit obviously knows his stuff.”

      “That’s for sure.” Sabrina sat up with her hands in her lap, thinking of how she’d inhaled the pastry even though she’d never been a chocolate fiend. “I guess I feel sort of satisfied. Warm and happy. It’s not quite an all-out sugar rush, but the chocolate gave me an emotional boost.” Or maybe that was Kit, she thought. For a man who moved with a languid deliberation, being around him certainly zapped her with energy.

      “Did you know there was a survey that said fifty percent of American women prefer chocolate to sex?”

      “No way!” Sabrina gawked. “They’re obviously not having the right kind of sex.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re kidding me, Mackenzie. You made that up.”

      “It’s

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