Page 24 of Dirty Little Sins

"Do you always make these kind of noises when you cook?"

I jumped at the unexpected voice behind me and dropped the spoon I'd held in my hand.

"Do you always sneak up on people," I said on a laugh as I bent to retrieve the utensil before turning to face Nina.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear me approach. These heels make a racket on the marble floors in here." She lifted her foot and motioned to the four-inch spikes with the red bottoms.

"I don't know how you handle working in those all day. My feet would be fried by lunch."

Nina grimaced. "You have no idea. They may make my legs look great in this skirt, but they are hell on my poor toes. Heck, most days I can't believe this is my life now. A year ago if you'd told me I'd be dressed to kill in designer clothing and working in a four-star hotel in Vegas I would have laughed at you. I lived in jeans and Chucks back then running a small diner on a lake. That was as dressed as I usually got. I'm a casual girl at heart and I'm a lot more comfortable in a pair of converse than these."

I could only shake my head because I couldn't imagine Nina as she'd described herself. The woman looked made to do what she did and how she dressed for it.

"Well, if that is true, you certainly had me fooled." I tossed the dirty spoon into the sink and retrieved a new one from the hooks above the stove before returning my attention to the new sauce I'd created.

"Whatever that is, it smells divine. Is that what has you so distracted you didn't hear me come in? A new recipe?"

I heard the disbelief in her voice as I contemplated my answer. It was true that I had these new concoctions on my mind, but if I was completely honest it was my thoughts about Vincent that kept my focus wandering. Not that I needed to share that with my boss's wife.

Again.

I'd already shared enough.

"There's a lot to get done in the next few weeks. I've pretty much got a massive to do list running through my head on a continuous loop." And if that loop kept getting interrupted by memories of my adventure with Vincent the night of his party, I definitely didn't have to mention it.

"I've heard rave reviews from several guests from the party the other night. Not to mention all the inquiries about our sold out opening night. They can't stop praising your food."

"I would hope so. Those new dishes were absolutely brilliant."

Nina's throaty laugh filled the kitchen. "Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"

I shrugged. "A good chef is nothing if not confident."

"Is that what you call it?" She was laughing again and I saw no reason to be offended by her mirth. A certain amount of arrogance from a seasoned chef was to be expected. If I didn't believe in my food then no one else would either. I'd learned a long time ago that being humble would not serve me well in this competitive field.

"So, what really brings you all the way back here this late at night? Is your husband still working too?"

Nina's laugh died and my stomach plummeted at the suddenly serious look that crossed her face. I didn't know what she was about to say, but I feared I wouldn't like it.

"As you can imagine, in a hotel casino there are literally cameras everywhere and Gabe receives regular reports on any unusual activity." She paused and took a breath. "Not that I want to be intrusive on your personal life, or tell you how to run your kitchen, but it's been noticed that you've been working almost nonstop for days. We're concerned."

I bristled as she reminded me of something I'd instinctively and factually known, but kind of forgotten. Not that I wasn't used to this kind of thing. As part of a celebrity reality show, I was often subject to people watching me any time day or night. In fact, so much so that I hadn't given signing the contract addendum about my lack of privacy from the hotel a second thought.

"Opening a restaurant demands a lot of my time. This is not a vacation so I didn't come here expecting rest and relaxation."

She stepped forward and touched my arm. "And Vincent? Does he have anything to do with this, uhm, situation? I've been meaning to find you since the party and find out how things went for you. Besides the food, I mean."

I continued to stir my sauce while staying silent. What was I supposed to say? I didn't know this woman well enough to confide in her any more than I already had. What happened between Vincent and myself that night went beyond personal. It was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

Clearly, when push came to shove, I couldn't say no to him. Didn't want to say no. That was the truth I'd finally admitted and look where it had gotten me. A slight shiver worked up my spine as the memories flooded over me. This whole conversation was making me uncomfortable and a little irritated.

"There's nothing for you or anyone else to worry about between me and the hotel's prized fighter. I intend to keep our future interactions as professional as possible." What choice did I have? How many times in the last four days had I thought about texting him to share one thing or another or just to see how he was, only to remember that I didn't even have the phone number of the man who'd fucked me into oblivion.

I didn't turn around to look at her, but I could swear I felt her eyes boring into my back as I waited for her to respond.

"Zia, that's not what I meant at all. I came here for you because I'm worried about how you feel. Vincent is not my problem."

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