Sex, Lies and Mistletoe. Tawny Weber

offerings and he’ll be ready to stay in Black Oak and enjoy himself for a while.”

      “Um, you’re welcome?” Pandora murmured. She wanted to point out that as delicious as chocolate was, it wasn’t magic cake. He was asking for an awful lot from a lunch that she wasn’t even sure Caleb would eat.

      Without another word to her, or to his son, Tobias gave a jaunty wave and headed out the back door. Pandora plaited her fingers together, staring in the direction Tobias had gone until she heard the door close. She shifted her gaze to the café tables then, noting that half needed tidying.

      Her gaze landed everywhere but on Caleb.

      Murmurs rose from the store. She turned, grateful that something might demand her attention.

      Then she winced. She could almost feel the barbs of fury shooting at her from the disappointed crowd. They’d obviously thought the show would move into the store, where they could get a better view. They’d probably positioned themselves to best greet, and grill, Tobias as he left the café. And she’d ruined it.

      But she didn’t hear the chimes over the front door ring at all, which meant they were still circling, waiting for fresh meat. Or in this case, a hunk named Caleb.

      They could just keep waiting. And, hopefully, purchasing. After all, she was apparently giving away cake back here.

      Speaking of …

      “Would you like something to eat?” she asked, finally looking directly at Caleb.

      Under his slash of black brows, his eyes were intense as he inspected her. His expression didn’t change as his gaze traveled from her face, then skimmed down her body in a way that made her wish she was wearing one of those loose, New Agey dresses Fifi and Cassiopeia wore.

      Or that she was naked.

      Either one would be better than this feeling that there wasn’t a chance in hell she could measure up to the sexual challenge Caleb presented.

      A sexual challenge she wasn’t even positive he was issuing. For all she knew, the guy gave that same hot but unreadable look to his mail lady when she asked him to sign for delivery.

      Her body on fire, her mind a mess of tangled thoughts, she gave in to the desire to run.

      “I’ll be right back,” she muttered as she hurried back to the small kitchen again. This time, instead of hacking through the cake and throwing it in a container, she carefully selected a plate, cut a precise slice and centered it on the cobalt glass plate. She retrieved a can of whipped cream and sprayed a sweet little rosette of white on top of the chocolate.

      This was crazy. It wasn’t as though the guy was going to ask her on a date. He was here to … What? Shop for Christmas gifts? Score an aphrodisiac-laced lunch?

      Pandora groaned. Oh, wouldn’t that be sweet? Insane, impossible and inconceivable—but so sweet to have sex with a man like Caleb Black. A man who, with just one look, could make her body go lax, her legs quiver and her nipples beg in pouty supplication.

      But Caleb Black was the kind of guy who went for powerful women. A woman who could hold her own, who would demand he fulfill her every fantasy and in doing so, would show him things he hadn’t even dreamed of yet.

      In other words, totally not Pandora.

      Except … she wanted him for herself.

      She grabbed two forks, setting one neatly on the plate. With the other she stabbed a huge chunk from the cake still on the serving dish. Shoving it in her mouth, she closed her eyes and, with a sigh, let the chocolate work its way through her system. Calming, centering, soothing.

      God, she loved chocolate.

      More than sex, she insisted to herself. Which was a lie, of course, but with a little work she might start believing it. After all, chocolate’s only threat was to her hips.

      Swallowing hard as she imagined what kind of threat Caleb might pose to her body, she scooped up the plate and forced herself to return to the café.

      “You look like that visit barely registered on your stress meter, but mine is off the charts. Nothing pulls me out of the dumps like chocolate, so I figured you might want some,” she said with a sheepish smile as she set the cake on a nearby table. Glancing through the beads at the nosy crowd, she sighed, then sat opposite the plate and waited.

      “Why’s it empty in here?” he asked, his voice as surly as his scowl. But hey, words were words. Who was she to quibble over tone?

      “The café closes at two. We still have shoppers in the store, but Fifi is helping them. People know we’re closed. They won’t come back here,” she assured him. “It’s not much, but at least it’s a tiny semblance of privacy.”

      He gave her a look, those gold eyes dark. She could see the anger in them now, as clearly as she could see it in the set of his chin and his clenched fists. But now she could see hurt, too, in the way he hunched his shoulders, the droop of his lips.