Page 2 of My Bloody Valentine

“Or perhaps you’re not listening closely enough.” He produces a small box wrapped in black silk ribbon from hisjacket pocket. “Take this home. Sample it privately. Then call me when you’re ready to explore deeper.”

The box feels heavy in my hands. Warm, like it contains something alive.

“I don’t usually?—”

“Accept gifts from chocolatiers whose work you’ve just criticized?” His laugh holds no humor. “Consider it research. For your review.”

I should refuse. I should walk away from those intense eyes and how they seem to strip away my defenses. Still, my fingers are already untying the ribbon.

Inside sits a single chocolate, so onyx it absorbs the light. The surface ripples with complex patterns that remind me of...

“Is that a fingerprint?”

“Very observant.” Adrian shifts closer. “Every piece I create bears my mark. If you can’t taste that emotion, perhaps your gift isn’t as refined as you believe.”

“Can I eat it now?” I ask.

His brow raises, a slight smirk on his lips. “Go ahead.”

I lift up the dark chocolate and place it in my mouth. The chocolate melts on my tongue. The flavor explodes—bitter, sweet, and something else. Something that ignites a flutter in my chest. Not emptiness this time. No, this tastes like...

Lust.

I open my eyes to find Adrian watching me with unconcealed fascination. “Well?”

“How did you...” My voice trails off as the aftertaste hits.

“I think,” he says, pulling a business card from his pocket, “there’s a lot we need to talk about concerning the true nature of emotion in chocolate.”

I slip his business card into my clutch. “That was... different from your Valentine’s collection.”

“Different can be enlightening.” Adrian’s eyes lock onto mine.

“While I appreciate the private tasting, Mr. Vale, my review will focus on what’s available to your customers.” I straighten my shoulders, refusing to let his intensity shake my professional integrity. “And those truffles lack the profoundness this one possessed.”

“Call me Adrian.” He traces the display with one finger. “And you’re right—what’s available to the public is merely a surface-level experience.”

“Then perhaps you should consider putting more of yourself into your commercial pieces.” I gesture toward the Valentine’s collection. “These are beautiful, but they’re like empty vessels. Your customers deserve better.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “The public gets just what they are entitled to, Ms. Kendall. They consume without thought, without appreciation for true artistry.”

“Maya,” I correct him. “And that’s rather cynical for someone who creates luxury chocolates.”

“Is it cynical to reserve one’s finest work for those who can truly appreciate it?” His hand brushes my arm as he reaches past me for a champagne flute. “Like you.”

“Flattery won’t change my review.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Your honesty is... refreshing. Most critics simply praise the aesthetic, never diving beneath the surface.”

“Well, the surface is all most people can taste. I have the mixed blessing of experiencing more.”

“Mixed blessing?” His eyebrows lift. “How fascinating. Do tell me more.”

“Another time, perhaps.” I tuck my clutch under my arm. “I have other events tonight, remember?”

“Of course.” He distances himself, but his eyes stay glued to mine. “Though I hope you’ll reconsider canceling them.”

“I’m afraid I can’t cancel.” I adjust my clutch, ignoring how his proximity gives me goosebumps. “Professional obligations.”

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