Page 49 of What Happens in Paradise

‘Oh! I just realised. Shouldn’t we put the pineapple juice in the mixture?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘We will do that when we take it out of the oven.’

I frowned, then nodded. Alejandro knew what he was doing.

After I greased the baking dish and poured in the mixture like Alejandro instructed, I slid it inside the oven, then sat next to him as he plated up our dinner. I drained my glass of rum punch, then poured another from the jug in front of me.

‘It looks and smells delicious. I’d love to hear what you’ve done and how you made it.’ I leant in, genuinely interested to know more.

‘So with the jerk chicken, I thought that instead of serving it as a complete thigh, it would be good to slice it finely. When our guests are on a date, they will not want to worry about biting a big piece of chicken, or thinking about if it is okay to use their fingers or cutting the meat themselves. It will be a distraction. Instead, I want them to focus on staring into the eyes of their match.’

Alejandro’s gaze fixed on mine and I swallowed hard.

‘That’s a good idea,’ I said, dropping my eyes to the plate. ‘And this?’ I pointed to the mash.

‘That is a sweet potato mash and I have created a spicy mango salsa which is drizzled over the chicken.’

‘Can I try?’

‘Please,’ he said.

I stabbed a piece of chicken onto my fork, dipped it into the salsa, then added a bit of mash before sliding it into my mouth.

‘Wow.’ My eyes popped. ‘This is phenomenal!’ I quickly piled my fork with another mouthful. ‘You have a gift.’ I exclaimed. ‘This is incredible. Seriously. You’re a very talented man. You’re an amazing cook, great dancer, you speak English fluently, what else are you good at?’ I cocked my head to the side and licked my lips suggestively.

WTF?

It sounded like I was flirting with him.

I blamed the rum punch for loosening my tongue.

‘Professionally, orpersonally?’ The corner of his mouth turned up.

‘Both,’ I said, knowing that I was entering dangerous territory, but not being able to help myself.

‘As you know, I love to cook, so that covers my professional talents. As for my personal ones, I am very good at exercise.’

‘What kind?’

‘I am a fast runner, a strong swimmer and very good at working out. I have a lot of energy and stamina. I do not tire easily. And even when I have a long session, I can recover very quickly and start again.’

‘What kind ofworking outare you referring to? The gym or something else?’

‘What would thesomething elsemean?’ He raised his eyebrow.

‘Well, from the way you phrased it, it almost sounded like you were talking about your ability in the bedroom…’ My voice trailed off.

‘Is that what it sounded like or what you were imagining?’ His eyes darkened.

‘I don’t think you want to know the answer to that.’ I picked up my rum punch and took a large sip, suddenly getting cold feet. I shouldn’t have said that. ‘Should we check on the cake?’

I got up and put my hand on the oven door. Alejandro reached out and put his hand on top of mine to stop me.

‘The cake is fine. Do not think I did not notice how you just tried to change the subject.’

Busted.

My gaze flicked up and my eyes met his. Electricity crackled between us. My lips parted. Our faces were only inches apart. All it would take was for us both to lean forward and our mouths would be touching.

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