His hand was still on her arm. There was less than a foot between them. Isa shivered, but it wasn't cold out. No, the luxuriant new scent drifting from her said she was feeling anything but cold at the moment.
Chance's hand tightened on her arm as he moved closer. Now there wasn't a foot between them, but mere inches. Her pulse sped up even more as he leaned down.
Right before his mouth brushed hers, however, Isa turned her head. Chance didn't follow the movement, but let his lips caress her cheek instead. So soft and warm. It was all he could do to keep his tongue from flicking out and tasting her.
Isa gave a shaky laugh. "I must be really tired. Here I am, engaged to Robert Mini-Mob Bertini, and yet about to make out with a virtual stranger in a public place. For my next idiotic trick, maybe I'll call Robert and dare him to kill Frazier."
Chance's fingers played with the skin on her arm. "Is being in a public place your only objection? Because that can be remedied."
Another sweet wave of scent came off her even as she backed away.
"I-I have to go," Isa stammered, not answering his question. "You'll call me after you speak with Robert, right?"
Chance made no move to stop her. He just stared at her as she got into her car and shut the door a little too hard.
"I'll speak to you as soon as I'm done with him, yes."
"All right." Isa paused, looked like she was about to say something else, then put the car in gear. Chance heard her mutter under her breath, "I must be crazy," right as she pulled away.
He smiled to himself. No, darling, you're not crazy. You're just fighting your emotions-something I learned long ago will always win in the end.
Chapter 5
Isa dreamed her restaurant had turned into a breakfast diner. Frank was whipping up bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and assorted omelets while coffee brewed from multiple pots. The smell of freshly baked bread permeated the air as Isa hurried from table to table, making sure every customer had what they needed, rotating the order of the tables for the wait staff, and checking food supplies. Meanwhile, she was so hungry. All the sights and smells from the kitchen teased her, making her stomach knot with need. Still, she didn't stop. The responsibilities of the restaurant came first. Once the breakfast rush was over, she'd have Frank fix her a large plate, but until then, there was work to do.
"Isabella."
She turned to see who'd called her name, but all the faces in the diner seemed to blur out of focus.
"Isabella, wake up."
Her eyes snapped open. She was in her house. In her bed, and there was no breakfast diner, no rush of hungry customers to attend to, and no staff to oversee.
So why was it that she could still smell bacon, bread, and coffee?
"Am I going to have to come in there and wake you?" a voice she now recognized asked.
Isa stiffened, pinching herself to make sure she wasn't still dreaming. No, she definitely felt that, and yes, once again, Chance was in her home.
Her gaze went to the window. Had he gotten in through there again? Or did he go through the front door this time, because maybe he was an expert lock-picker as well? More importantly, why wasn't she angry? Why was she getting out of bed, smoothing her hand over her sleep-tousled hair, and wondering if she should put on something more appealing than her long cotton pajamas with their constellation pattern?
She heard a clatter of pans. "I know you're awake. Come on out, your breakfast is getting cold."
"Nothing comes before the bladder," Isa muttered under her breath, surprised when she heard him laugh a moment later. He couldn't have heard her... could he?
She walked into the kitchen five minutes later, too proud to change out of her pajamas, but conceding to brush her teeth and run a wet towel over her face. As far as her hair-well. It was hopeless, as it always was in the morning.
Chance was in the middle of her kitchen, looking far better than what was in the array of pans on her stove. He had on a light blue shirt that complimented his pale skin and deep brown hair, plus a pair of darker blue, loose-fitting jeans. His feet were bare, and Isa found herself momentarily fascinated by them. They seemed at once so completely masculine and yet so... cute.
She stopped staring at his feet to sit on one of the stools across from her counter.
"You're a regular repeat offender with the breaking and entering, aren't you?" she asked flippantly.
Chance grinned. "You skipped dinner last night. One would think since you owned a restaurant, you'd get around to eating, but apparently not."
She had skipped dinner last night, but how did he know that?
"Aren't you supposed to be spying on Robert, not me? Or better yet, breaking into his home, not mine?"
He heaped generous portions of bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns onto a plate before sliding it across to her.
"Robert's later tonight. You're hungry now. I'm just going down the line of priorities, darling."
"I told you not to call me that," Isa replied automatically, though she didn't mean it now. Truth be told, she rather liked the caressing way he said "darling."
And the look in his eyes when he said it was even better.
Oh, shit. She was so in trouble. Last night after almost kissing him, Isa had berated herself for hours about the stupidity of getting involved with some pseudo-magician whacko-albeit a smolderingly sexy one-when she still had to find her brother and get out of marrying a career criminal. Yet here she was now, getting all starry-eyed over something as benign as Chance's feet, for crying out loud.
That was it. She was getting a vibrator. Clearly she was in need of sexual healing, and right now a battery-operated device had the least amount of complications.
The timer on her oven went off. Chance turned around with a graceful spin and then lifted out a pan of wonderful-smelling bread. Isa's mouth watered even though she'd just taken a bite of food.
"You'd make a great chef," she said once she'd swallowed. "Ever think of leaving the honor-bound, criminal-interrogating hypnotist society to try your hand at that?"
Chance sliced her a steaming piece of bread, an odd smile on his face. "I can never leave the society I'm part of, Isabella. Once you become a member, you stay that way forever."
"Then I hope they have a hell of a retirement plan," she quipped.
That made Chance grin, highlighting the dimple on his chin. "The best there is, I assure you."
He took the stool next to Isa, but didn't bother getting himself a plate. Isa gestured with her fork at all the food spread out in front of her.
"Are you going to eat anything?"