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No, she was okay...she breathed in deeply. Sometimes the smell of chocolate worked better than Xanax.
This morning, she’d been drawn to the shop like a bee to a flower... Well, more like a chocoholic drawn to the best darn chocolate in the world.
As Maya appeared through the part in the deep cranberry-colored brocade curtains that concealed the back of the shop from the front of the house, she wiped her fingertips on a white linen tea towel.
“Ah! Bonjour, Pepper! I thought that might be you.” She set the cloth on the counter, then briskly brushed her hands together, beaming a gigantic smile as radiant as the French summer sun. The simple gesture warmed Pepper from the inside out.
“Good morning!” Pepper swiped at a wisp of blond hair that the earlier gust of wind had blown out of place.
“What brings you out on this cold, blustery day, mon amie?” Maya stepped from behind the counter and greeted her friend with kisses on both cheeks. “Regardless, I am so happy to see you. You don’t need a reason to pay me a visit. I will get you some hot chocolate to help warm you up, oui?”
Before Pepper could answer, the redhead had turned and was already heading to the small burner behind the case where she prepared the warm, rich beverages.
“Maya, what is that floral scent I smell in here this morning?”
Maya whipped around to look at Pepper and tilted her head to the side, a curious little grin lifting the edges of her mouth. “You can smell that?”
Pepper nodded. “Yes. It sort of smells like...roses.”
Maya set down the copper bottom saucepan she was holding. “One moment, I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared behind the purple curtain, only to return quickly with a rectangular pink-and-black box tied with black ribbon—her shop’s signature packaging.
Maya’s eyes sparkled as she held it out to Pepper. “These are for you, my dear.”
It was Pepper’s turn to gaze at Maya curiously. “Well, thank you. Actually, I have come to purchase some chocolate. But not for myself. It’s for friends. Back home.” Pepper took a deep breath as she stared down at the pretty box. Finally, she squared her shoulders. “Maya, I’m leaving. I’ve actually come to say goodbye.”
Maya responded with a resolute nod, but Pepper sensed her stoic mask hid something else. She could see a certain glint in her friend’s eyes.
She shrugged it off, however, chalking it up to her own sadness and uncertainty.
“So, that means if I come home without a suitcase full of treasures from your shop, I will be run out of town on a rail.” She shrugged again and a little hiccup of a laugh escaped before she could stop it. “Although others may run me out of town anyway, but I’ll put up a valiant fight to stay. And possibly bribe them with chocolate.”
She grimaced. Perhaps bribe wasn’t such a good word choice since her family name was implicated in a financial scandal.
Since Pepper’s father had never been to St. Michel, the small European principality had been a good sanctuary for her and her mother. When they were here, they were surrounded by good people and good friends. They were staying with Pepper’s boarding school buddy, Margeaux Broussard Lejardin, whose sister-in-law just happened to be the queen of St. Michel.
Despite the scandal, Margeaux had welcomed them with open arms, insisting they stay as long as they liked in the small two-bedroom guest cottage on the grounds of the estate where she lived with her husband, Henri.
But it was time to go home. Even Maya seemed to understand that.
“Mon amie, as much as I would love for you to stay in St. Michel permanently, I’ve said all along that you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to fear. You should not let narrow-minded people convict you for a crime you did not commit.”
Pepper nodded, fighting the protective impulse that was bubbling up inside her, the part of her that wanted to defend her father—wanted to make sure that Maya wasn’t implying that her dad was guilty. He hadn’t been to trial yet, and Pepper would maintain that he was innocent until proven otherwise. But Maya had been a dear friend and because of that, Pepper checked the urge to ask the woman to clarify what she meant.
Instead, she said, “That’s why it’s time for me to go. But first I need chocolate, Maya. No matter how broke a girl is, she should always treat herself to the best chocolate in the world.”
Maya’s smile returned. “Of course, my lovely. But before we tend to that task, I want you to take a look inside the box I just gave you.”
Carefully, Pepper untied the black organza ribbon that adorned the package. As she lifted the lid, revealing a dozen white truffles dusted with dried flowers and gold dust, the unmistakable rose scent she’d smelled earlier wafted out, making her mouth water and her heart beat a little faster.
“Maya, these are beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. I made them just for you. A going-away present.”
Pepper smiled. “But you didn’t know I was leaving until just a moment ago.”
The glimmer had returned to Maya’s eyes again, and for a split second Pepper wondered if somehow her friend had, in fact, known before she’d told her. But that would be impossible. Wouldn’t it?
“Yes, but I knew you were leaving sometime, my dear friend. Pepper, you have too much to offer. Keeping yourself locked away from the world is the crime. Let these chocolates be symbolic of everything sweet, rich and passionate that you deserve in your life. When you take the first bite of this chocolate, I want you to hold in your mind a picture of your heart’s desire and then go out there and claim it for your own.”
Outside, the wind resumed its ominous song, and the shop’s sign danced along in perfect time. From where Pepper stood next to the window, she had a clear view of the midnight-blue placard with its crackled paint and golden lettering: Maya’s Chocolates ~ Happily Ever After Starts Here.
An odd sensation coursed through her veins and she glanced down at the box in her hands, full of Maya’s beautiful handiwork.
Why not?
Maya nodded. “Try one.”
Pepper picked up a truffle and made a wish for her very own happily-ever-after.
Chapter Two
The flight from Paris barely made it to the gate at JFK International Airport in time for Pepper to go through customs, recheck her luggage and catch her connecting flight home. Delays leaving Charles De Gaulle Airport out of Paris had cut it dangerously close for her to catch the red-eye home. Yet, luck was on her side. She was one of the last passengers to board the plane bound for the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.
Once onboard, she struggled to stash her carry-on in the overhead compartment, astounded that there was still space available at this late hour. Thank goodness Ethan had purchased her a ticket in business class where the seats were generous and they weren’t packed in like sardines.
The man who was sitting in the seat directly below the compartment she was claiming tossed the black cowboy hat he’d been holding on his lap onto the seat next to him, stood while doing an agile bend and dip to avoid whacking his head on the overhead console and unfolded to his full height in front of her.
“Here, let me help you with that, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Only because she detected a slight Texas twang in his speech did she not take offense to him calling her ma’am. Instead, she chose to think, What a gentleman.
“Thank you,” she said as she looked up into brown eyes as dark and rich as Maya’s chocolates. They contrasted sharply with his spiky, sandy-blond hair. Good-looking guy. Polite, too, she thought.
And he was tall. Very tall. Probably six-four. The big, manly cowboy variety, with long, jean-clad legs and broad shoulders that flexed underneath his blue oxford cloth shirt as he lifted and stowed the bag in one fluid motion.
Pepper forced her gaze from the delicious show of muscles and strength, scooted past him and picked up the man’s cowboy hat before she tucked herself into the seat next to the window. When she’d settled herself and glanced out the window she breathed a sigh of relief. Not only had she made the connecting flight, but she was back on U.S. soil. No one in the New York airport had hassled her. Of course, along her sprint to get from customs to her Dallas-bound flight she hadn’t paused long enough for anyone to recognize her and not that anyone would in New York. But it was highly possible that anyone on board this flight might realize she was Harris Merriweather’s daughter and start something.
But so far so good. Keeping her face toward the window, she heaved another sigh of relief.
It was good to be home. Or almost, anyway.
“Sorry, I’ll take that from you,” the male voice said.
When Pepper looked, he was motioning to the hat.
“Oh, right, here you go,” she said. “And thanks again for helping me stash the suitcase.”
As he accepted the hat, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “No problem.”
His brow furrowed, and his gaze searched her face.
Oh, no, here it comes. She braced herself.
“I’m Rob Macintyre. Have we met?”
Okay, not as bad as what she’d feared. But she needed to nip this in the bud. “No, I don’t think so, but it’s a pleasure meeting you now.”
Her brain raced as she tried to think of a diversion, a way to change the subject without being rude or, worse yet, antagonistic.
It was only a three-hour flight from New York to Dallas, but it could feel like an eternity if things got out of hand.
Thank goodness the flight attendants began their demonstration on the hows and whys of the emergency exits and oxygen masks. Rob...what did he say his last name was? Macintyre, right.
Rob Macintyre... It did sound a little familiar... Hmmm...
Anyway, Rob Macintyre turned his attention to the safety instructions, and Pepper adjusted her seat belt and settled back into her seat.
Then it hit her—Robert Macintyre?
Of course. She stole another glance at him to make sure she had the right guy. With his square jaw and sculpted cheekbones, his profile was just as handsome as his face was full-on. Not only was he one of the youngest oil barons in Texas, but he was also the enigma of the Dallas social scene; at the top of everyone’s guest list but always declining invitations.
No one could figure out why he was so antisocial, and that made him all the more appealing. Pepper had never met him personally—until today, and he certainly seemed anything but antisocial—but everyone in Dallas knew of him. And why not? He was young, rich, single and gorgeous.
He caught her staring and she looked away, only to glance back a moment later to have the same thing happen again.
Pepper felt heat ignite in her décolletage and begin to trail its way up her neck to her cheeks. With hopes that he wouldn’t notice, she bent down and picked up her purse, and to have something to do—and to keep herself from looking at him—she rifled through her handbag.
When she came across the box of chocolates that Maya had given her before she left St. Michel, she took it out of her purse, removed the lid and offered Rob one of the truffles. “As a thank-you for helping me with my bag,” she said.
He regarded the box, then looked up at her. Suddenly, she wasn’t quite sure what had compelled her to share her chocolate treasures, limited as they were. Of course, she didn’t need to eat a dozen truffles, but she hadn’t really planned on giving them away, either. Not until she found herself offering them to her seatmate. Oh, well, it was too late to withdraw the offer, especially after he said, “Thanks, those look delicious.”
As he bit into the candy, she decided that if he did figure out who she was—the same way it had dawned on her who he was—at least he couldn’t say she wasn’t nice to him. After all, she had shared her chocolate.
Yep, when all else failed, bribe ’em with chocolate. That was definitely becoming her motto.
“I’m sorry, you’ll need to stow your purse under the seat in front of you,” said the flight attendant. “We will be taking off momentarily.”
Pepper complied, and much to her relief, she and Robert carried on an easy, nonconfrontational conversation—talking about everything and nothing, steering clear of the personal—for the entire trip as the Boeing 757 carried them through the night from New York to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport.
* * *
After the plane landed, Robert retrieved Pepper’s carry-on, setting it down for her so that all she had to do was wheel it off the plane.
“Hey, it was really nice talking to you,” he said.
“It was,” she agreed. “I really enjoyed it.” She paused, hoping he would ask for her number, even though the last thing she needed right now was a new man in her life. But as she stared up at him as he casually stood in the aisle, leaning in toward her with his elbow braced on the back of the seat—good body language—she decided she could make exceptions for Robert Macintyre.
But he didn’t ask for it. Instead, he gestured to her with his hat and said, “Take care.”
Momentary disappointment washed over her, through her. But then she bucked up and reminded herself how busy she was going to be for the foreseeable future.
It was for the best.
But he was so darn gorgeous.
Oh, well.
She made her way off the plane and into the terminal. She just had to pick up her luggage at baggage claim, and then a taxi would take her home where she could sleep in her own bed for the first time in two weeks. If seeing Robert Macintyre again wasn’t an option, that sounded like the next most heavenly prospect.
“Hey, I know you,” said an unfamiliar, belligerent voice behind her.
Pepper tensed but kept walking without looking back. The voice didn’t belong to Robert Macintyre. She knew that without turning around. This man sounded much gravellier and quarrelsome. The person might not even be talking to her.
Just keep walking.
But then there was a hand on her arm. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”
Pepper turned around to the pig-nosed, scarlet face of a man who had to weigh at least three hundred pounds. He seemed as wide as he was tall. His breath was an alcoholic cloud, and his eyes were hooded and bloodshot. She sidestepped out of his grasp and wheeled her carry-on between them. As if that would help.
She looked around the terminal, but it was mostly empty. At this late hour the only life seemed to be the janitorial staff and other passengers who were disembarking from the flight she’d been on, and they seemed not to notice—or not to care—that the drunk man was hassling her.
“You’re the daughter of that Merriweather bastard, aren’t you?”
“Sir, it’s late. I’m sorry, I need to go meet the person who is picking me up.”
The taxi driver could wait all night, of course, but Mr. Drunk-and-Nasty didn’t need to know that. Pepper turned and tried to walk away.
“I’m not finished with you,” the man yelled after her. “Your daddy stole my money, little girl. Every single cent of my savings and retirement. But you were sitting up there like a princess in first class, weren’t you?”
Pepper was paralyzed and nauseated. Rooted to the spot. She wanted to tell him No, you’re mistaken. It’s all a big misunderstanding that will be sorted out once my father gets his day in court. But the words wouldn’t leave her throat.
“How do you sleep at night living like royalty when I may not even be able to feed my family?” The man reached out and shoved Pepper and she landed against something firm and warm. In a similar motion as he had handled her carry-on, Robert Macintyre whisked Pepper behind him and was staring down the man.
“Did you hear the lady, sir?” The emphasis in the way he said sir was less polite and more of a power play. It helped that Robert seemed to hulk and tower over the squat man. “She needs to leave now. She has people waiting for her. It’s rude to keep people waiting. So don’t detain her and everything will be fine. Okay?”
The man didn’t say anything else. He simply turned and staggered toward the exit and the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered after Robert had confronted the man began to disperse.
When most everyone was out of sight, Pepper started shaking, but she finally found her voice.
“Thank you for that,” she said meekly. “I had really hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble. But...”
She braced herself for the inevitable request for an explanation, but all Rob said was, “I will stay with you until you meet whoever is picking you up.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I still have to go to baggage claim. Security will be there. I should be fine. But thank you.”
“I’ll go with you to baggage claim. That guy seemed pretty looped. I don’t want you to take a chance.”
