Sheikh in the City. Jackie Braun

in the hallway, she backed up and invited him inside.

      After Emily closed the door, she turned to find that he was staring, too. At her apron.

      “You are already working?”

      “For hours now. I’ve been up since six, although I didn’t get anything accomplished until after I’d had a cup of espresso. I was up a little late last night. Today’s client called just before five yesterday afternoon with a last-minute menu change. It seems one of her guests has a shellfish allergy, so the shrimp appetizer I’d planned was a no-go.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

      “A caterer’s work is never done.”

      “Exactly.” She flashed a smile as they walked into the kitchen.

      “Are you like this every weekend?” he asked.

      “When I’m lucky.”

      Dan frowned at her reply. “Perhaps you should consider hiring more assistants. It sounds as if you could use the additional help.”

      She could. That was true enough. But adding more employees to the payroll was out of the question. Their wages and the additional taxes would eat too far into her profits. Emily figured she could work herself to near exhaustion on weekends for however long it took to open her restaurant. What else did she have going on Saturday nights anyway? When The Merit became a reality, she would gladly hire a full kitchen and wait-staff, and take off nights here and there when the mood struck. Until then, caffeine would be her best friend.

      Which prompted her to ask, “Can I get you something to drink? Espresso? Coffee? Tea, maybe?”

      “Coffee, since I see that you already have a pot prepared.” He nodded in the direction of the state-of-the-art brewing station she’d splurged on the previous Christmas.

      “Yeah. I switched to French roast after the espresso.” She grinned. “I figured I’d better pace my caffeine intake. I can’t afford to get jittery when I’m working with knives.”

      He smiled in return as he settled onto one of the tall stools at the granite-topped island. At the moment, the island was littered with a cornucopia of fresh produce that had already been washed. Some of it would be used in a salad. Others would be chopped and added to the various dishes.

      As she poured them both a cup, he reminded her she hadn’t answered his question about hiring more help. Emily didn’t feel it would be professional to discuss finances with a paying client, so she edited her response before speaking.

      “I’ve always loved cooking and creating new dishes, which is why I do what I do for a living. So, I don’t mind the extra work.” She handed him his coffee and sipped her own.

      “But what do you do for pleasure?” he asked.

      The exotic lilt in his voice caused the last word to feather over Emily’s flesh like a caress, and it had her stammering like a schoolgirl.

      “I…I…I…read.” If he hadn’t been watching her she would have smacked her forehead at the lame response. She didn’t have to know Dan well to figure out he was sophisticated, educated and cultured. He probably could lead Met patrons on a guided tour of the museum’s Egyptian antiquities exhibit. And she was certain he spent his free time engaged in far more pleasurable