Any Time, Any Place (Billionaire Builders #2)(15)

The tentative truce softened the tension. He nodded and began eating the fries. “What are you going to do while you search for Mr. Right? I can offer a nice distraction.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you can, Slick. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”

“You dating someone regularly yet?”

A lie would be easier. Still, she told the truth. “No. But I don’t want to be distracted if he comes around.”

Dalton lifted a fry to his mouth. Strong white teeth opened slowly and then closed around the end. He tugged, and the tip pulled off, disappearing into his mouth. His tongue came out to lick the salt from his lips in a sensual gesture. His gaze swept lazily over her body, as if he was imagining himself licking something else.

“Tastes so good,” he murmured.

Arousal dampened her panties. He was a master. She lifted her chin, giving him her iciest stare, and casually crossed her arms in front of her chest to hide her erect nipples. If she was sticking with her plan, she needed to keep her guard up. Evidently her search for a husband gave him pause, but he still considered her fair game.

“You can taste it when you put a ring on it.”

He spit out the fry in shock, then burst into laughter. She couldn’t help her answering grin at his obvious delight with her banter. Thank goodness the man had a sense of humor.

“Damn, I like you.”

“Good to know. I gotta get back to my customers.”

She turned, but he raised up his hand to stop her. “Wait. How about a consolation prize?”

“Sorry, the prize bucket is closed.”

“Let me get my hands on your bar.”

She paused, tapping her foot. Even though it would give her more time with him, there was no way she’d allow him such a gift. He might be the best—but she was positive that when she was ready to renovate, she’d be able to find someone else. Someone less . . . disturbing. “Sorry, Slick. I’m very choosy about who touches my bar. You’re not on the list.”

A stubborn light shone from his eyes. “Then I’ll have to find a way to get on your list, won’t I? Because I want it bad, Raven. Real bad.”

Holy crap, her body practically wept with the need to shoot over the bar they were talking about, fist his shirt in her hands, and kiss that lush, sinful mouth. His slow, smug smile ramped up her irritation. She hated him knowing she wanted him. At least she could control his inability to do her bar. And do her.

“Take a lesson from the Stones. You can’t always get what you want.”

He never flinched. “Maybe. But I’m sure I’ll eventually get what I need.”

Because she couldn’t speak, she did the next best thing. Rolled her eyes like she wasn’t worried and walked away, pretending to serve another customer.

Unfortunately, Raven had a feeling he knew exactly how worried she was. Because for one tiny moment, she’d dreamed about being the woman who could give him exactly what he needed. In every way possible.

Finally Dalton left, and she steeped herself in prepping for the evening crowd and following the mystery of the new cocktail brewing in her mind. Amanda popped her head out of the kitchen, waving the cordless in her hand. “Phone for you, Raven!”

Wiping off the stray leaves of basil and thyme clinging to her hands, she tucked the phone between her ear and chin. “Hello?”

“Raven Hawthorne?”

“I don’t need any more credit cards, thank you.”

A chuckle. The woman’s voice held a sharp, no-nonsense ring that usually meant city bred. “Nope. I’m Anastasia Duncan, assistant editor from Good Food and Fine Spirits magazine. We do articles for restaurants located in the Northeast, and My Place has been brought to my attention. High reviews on the food and cocktails are creating quite the buzz. You’re a mixologist, correct? Are you the one who conceptualizes all the cocktails?”

“Yes, I’m the owner and I make all the drinks.”

“From scratch? I’d like to focus not only on the unique look of your restaurant, but how your cocktails are making a name with a new breed of customers who want more than the normal wine and beer.”

Raven ignored her beating heart and took a breath. “Everything is created and prepared by me. I work with fresh herbs, vegetables, fruits, and various liquors.”

“Excellent. I’d love to set up an interview.”

Raven tried to keep the excitement from leaking into her voice. The magazine was well known in the food industry, and was starting to gather steam from consumers of great cocktails. “Sounds like a wonderful opportunity,” she responded smoothly. “What do you need from me?”

Papers shuffled in the background. “I’m interested in doing a feature for the September issue. I’d need to schedule a tour and in-depth interview within a month. Is this a possibility?”

“Of course. Let me check my schedule.”

They went back and forth a few times and agreed on a date. Anastasia informed her there would also be a camera crew for the online digital version and social media pages. By the time Raven hung up the phone, her hands shook.

Good Food & Fine Spirits magazine.

It was big-time. A feature could change everything for her, and there was no way she was about to blow the opportunity of a lifetime. Squealing inside, she turned to run into the kitchen and share the news when a sudden realization halted her midstep.