Take Two 3

Warm citrus. Sweet basil. Tangy garlic. The kitchen was a delicious culmination of scents. I could roll around in them.

"Morning, guys." By default, there are mostly men at ski resorts. I still haven't exactly sorted it out, but it seems to have something to do with adrenaline and testosterone.

In unison, "Morning, chef." I still get the goose bumps when I hear that. Tying back my long dark hair, my second in command, Eric, gives me the update on the day's events. The commotion from the front of the house interrupts us. With as much sarcasm as a mid-westerner can muster. Eric says, "I was saving the best for last."

Tying my apron around trim waist, I know I have snowshoeing to thank. I consider myself a cautions person. Maybe that's one reason I haven't learned to ski even though I've been working at this resort for three years now. The other reasons? Well, I'll think about that later. I take a glimpse out the kitchen door and I see the trouble. Hollywood trouble.

Our five star resort is exclusive and beautiful. We're known for gorgeous views, fabulous food, excellent skiing and extraordinary prices. The recent buzz has increased our visitors but also brought... commerce.

"Andre, how are you?" Andre kisses both of my cheeks. Andre is the general manager and is fastidious about maintaining our exclusivity. So, shooting movies around here isn't exactly a popular activity.

"Kristina, please meet Mr. Adam Jones and Ms. Madeline Starr. They work at Imagine It Entertainment. Is that right?" Even without that information, their brand new ski gear gave them away.

"Yes, Yes. That's right." He pushes his glasses up and adjusts his down parka. A nervous man this Mr. Adams. "We want to shoot in your restaurant tonight. The director is on his way over with the details."

"I was just telling this gentleman that we do not allow movie production to take place at our resort. It's quite flattering, but it's also disruptive to our clientele. I'm sorry, Mr. Adams and Ms. Starr."

"Oh would you hear us out? This is for the Michael Bennett's latest movie. His last one won an Oscar, you know. This would be an honor for your restaurant."

Andre's face was priceless. "Mr. Adams, we have already been honored with a Michelin star. I'm afraid that Mr. Bennett could not beat that. Am I right, Kristina?"

A burst of morning air came through the side door. Oh, here we go. The brooding director type. Dark hair tousled like he hasn't slept in days or, if he has slept, it was underneath a size zero panties model. Black jeans loosely tucked into well worn hiking boots. Maybe he actually does hike? The fur around his collar, though, gave him away as "the director." Yes, I'd already judged him. While not exactly my finest quality, it has kept my heart safe.

Sliding his aviators off, his gray blue eyes did not look around the restaurant. They steadily gazed at our group as he strode over – all 6 feet of him.

"Andre? I'm Damien. Your restaurant is beautiful."

"Thank you, Damien, but we are not comfortable with what you are asking."

"What if we shot in the middle of the night when it was closed? We could arrange that you would not even be listed in the credits. We could keep the crew to a minimum."

I could see Andre mulling it over. Damien was not exactly "the director" type. Fine. He was direct and calm and didn't seem at all self-centered. Surely, this was part of his act.

"Please allow Kristina and me to talk for a few minutes. We will meet you in the lobby."

"Kristina, what do you think? I think no. What do we get from it?" I opened my mouth to agree but Andre was already off to deliver the news.

I turned to go back to the kitchen surveying the winter flowers and epic mountain view. Yes, it was beautiful here. "Kristina?" It was the director's voice. "Yes?"

Damien smelled like... honey? Was that honey? Maybe my sense of smell was off today. Not a good thing for a chef. Clearly this guy didn't understand what personal space meant.

"Can I change your mind?"

"My mind is not the problem." My body seems to be, though. I could feel a current between us. Stepping back, I turn through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

"Have I done something to make you dislike me?"

"I don't see why it should matter."

"Should I just take no for an answer when I know something will be perfect?"

Shaking my head, I push open the kitchen door. Damien stops the door and steps closer to me. His head bent over me. He repeats "Should I just take no for an answer when I know something will be perfect?"

The drama. I duck under his arm and back to the warmth of my home – my kitchen.

Moments later, Andre comes rushing in. "I've agreed they can use the restaurant. Kristina, can you please help the next two nights? "

"Oh Andre. How did they bribe you?"

"A very very large donation to Help for Huskies." Andre looks very satisfied. Dogs and babies. Gets him every time.

Dinner service was over hours ago. Now, it seems to be the mid-night service. Damien, true to his word amazingly, has set up with a very small crew with minimal disruption. The only disruption is to my sleep. Eric and I have been reviewing the week's menu so it's not a total waste of time.

"I'm going to see what's going on up front. Katy Jones is really hot, T."

"See how close you get, Eric, before you get man handled by one of her bouncers."

Eric takes the challenges and in comes Damien with his sleepy hair and his honey sweet smell.

"I need.. Do you have two espressos in white cups?"

"Of course. I'm here to serve you." I stand to reach for the cups. And Damien's hand is on mine and, in the moment before he speaks, I can feel his breath on my neck.

"I don't think for one minute you are here to serve me."

I turn around to face him and to tell him to stop getting so damn close when he talks to me, but he's gone. The drama.

Eric pops his head into my office a few minutes later. "I'm heading out, Chef. That okay?"

"Leaving Katie Jones all alone? How could you?"

"Yea.. well Karen just texted." A wink and a smile. Drunk texting or sexting or whatever. "I think they're wrapping up anyway."

About 30 minutes later, I head into the front to see what's going on. Damien is alone at a table looking at a laptop.

"Are you done here, Damion? I'm going to close up."

"Do you want to see what your place looks like in a dream? It's for a dream sequence."

I sat down next to him and watched the footage. I had to admit that even in this form that whatever he had in his head was pretty amazing. It was surreal and serene at the same time.

"Damien, this is really beautifully done."

"I was here on Thursday. Cioppino never was like that before. I saw you come out of the kitchen to talk to some customers and I wanted to meet you that night."

Is it just me that gets hot when a guy says cioppino?

"That was a pretty complicated plan to meet me. You could have just back into the kitchen."

"Yea, well, to me getting there is half the fun."

After dinner service, I had changed into a pair of Hudson jeans and an off white v-neck cashmere sweater. Damien brushes some hair from my face and I reach for his hand as he touches me. Not one to waste an opportunity, Damien kisses my cheek. Well, I'm not going to let this go by either. Why should I? The guy likes my cioppino.

His lips move from my cheek to my neck. I stand up and he grabs my wrist. "You running away?" he says

"You underestimated me, Damien. I'm just getting on top." I slide my leg across his lap facing him. Damien's breath slow and hot against my neck. I let my lips linger over his. Hands sliding down my sides, my waist and he lifts off his lap and onto the table. With his arms around my back, he leans me backwards with his face buried in my neck.

I am waiting for that first kiss, but instead, Damien trails his fingers along my neck, between my breasts. I feel his finger tips on my stomach. This anticipation is electric and I want to grab him, but I am sure there are good things to come and I can wait if he can. His hot delicious lips kiss my stomach. I know I'm wet and we haven't even had our first kiss yet.

That will have to wait... Eric comes rushing in. "Sorry sorry, forgot my phone"

Back to reality, I sit up and look into those blue green pools of ecstasy, "Time for bed, Damien." His eyebrows go up, "Alone."

"I can wait."

"Presumptuous."

"Yes, it is." He kisses my neck and is gone.

Back in my kitchen the next day, things feel good and normal again. I'm sure that the drama last night was fleeting, but damn it felt good. I cannot help thinking in between conversations with Eric and tasting buttery hollandaise and savory burgundy wine sauces that I want to run my hands through Damiens' thick hair and crush my mouth to his delectable lips. The more control he had, the less I did.

"Chef." Then, louder, "Kristina."

"Yes yes"

"That's the third time I called you. Did you hear that they wrapped everything up last night? Katie Jones left this morning with her entourage."

"Back to normal. A good thing."

"Yea. Looked like I walked into a good thing last night."

I tossed my towel at Eric and walked into my office to return some calls. I was more than a little disappointed and needed a few minutes to myself for a pity party. No need for that, though, Damien was leaning languidly against the wall. The easy stance though couldn't hide the intensity of his gaze. Yep. Drama, but it was sure growing on me.

"Didn't think I would just leave. Did you?" He pushes the door closed behind and I back away from him. The magnetic energy between us is so hot that I'm actually afraid I might rip his clothes off if I get too close.

"I didn't know."

The office is small with no windows to the kitchen. A complaint I made often enough. However, it was working to my advantage today. There was just enough room for a desk, a chair and a visiting couch that is typically in the main bar but was relocated for the movie shoot.

In one step, Damien is in front of me. Starting at my shoulders, his hands run down my arms. Holding my wrists, I arch into him with my face tilted towards his. A breath together and it's the kiss we've been waiting for is as fierce as I expected it to be. Our tongues touch and I press my breasts and hips against him. We are up against the door and I want to feel every inch of him against me.

His reaches to turn the lock. We can hear the kitchen's flurry of activity and, in total silence; I slide my hands up his t-shirt slowly. I want to rip it off but, instead, I kiss his chest as I slowly slide it up. With his arms raised as he takes it off, it's my first glimpse of his toned, tanned body.

Reaching for his jeans, I feel the curve of his hip. I look up and Damien is watching me. Drinking me in, I knew that white lace under my jacket would pay off one day. That steady gaze is enough to make me climax. Our mouths pressed against each other again. He unhooks my bra, discards it as I slide my hand down his jeans. No boxers. He fills my hand and I am breathing harder. So is he. He slides my pants down, panties too, kissing the inside of my thighs along the way. Then, he picks me up, legs wrapped around his waist and we move to the couch. Undressed, he moves on top of me and parts my legs with such slowness that I can feel the anticipation dripping.

Running my hands down his back, I breathe in and open my eyes as he does. Our eyes meet and he slides inside me and stops. Pulling out a little, then slowly inside again. This time, a little more.. again he does this over and over until I grab his neck and crush my legs around his butt and he buries inside me totally. There is no moderation here. The release is inspired, furious, and sweet. The deafness created by the passion lingers. Then the sounds return, the scents, his honeyed body.

"Damien – I'd say that's a wrap."

His lazy smile is worth the clichéd comment.

"Time to take two."