CHAPTER ONE

‘OH,TALIA, thank heavens you're here!'

Despite my exhaustion I shoot Kiri a massive grin. ‘Where do you need me?'

‘Everywhere.'The chef looks near tears. ‘The servers are so inexperienced they need training more than guidance but there isn't time. The fryer won't get to temperature and I can't—'

‘Leave the servers with me,' I interrupt. It's clear Kiri's hit peak stressed chef and I need to move. Happily, sorting an imploding kitchen situation is something I've done more nights than I want to remember. If I quickly smooth front of house, Kiri can concentrate on her magical plates. She just needs confidence in me for calm to return.

‘There aren't enough glasses for the affogatos.' Kiri continues listing the catastrophes.

‘I'll find alternative ones.'

‘Yeah, but the coffee machine is misfiring and the primary ordered espresso martinis ten minutes ago even though we're only through the third course and have another two—'

‘Affogato and espresso martinis?' I interrupt again.

‘She requested tiramisu as well.' Kiri growls.

I chuckle. She's a customer after my own heart. Coffee's my one true love and I'm going to need my own caffeine hit to get through the next few hours.

‘The hired entertainment is late and has only just got onto the gondola.' Kiri tosses a pan into a sink with more force than necessary. ‘Typical.'

It's just over a twenty-minute ride in the suspension car to the exclusive restaurant at the top of the mountain so, what with the diva espresso machine and delayed entertainer, there's a gap in proceedings. I can't entertain, but I can tame a coffee machine.

‘I'll stall with the martinis,' I reassure Kiri as she whirls back to another pan, furiously stirring its bubbling contents into smooth submission.

‘Did you see the forecast?' Kiri growls, stuck in her doom spiral. ‘Some apocalyptic storm is due.'

‘Yeah?' I bite back a laugh and resort to my fool-proof trick to distract Kiri. ‘Well, it only needs to hold off for another couple of hours, then you'll be back down the mountain being massaged by your unreasonably hot husband.'

Kiri's eyes glaze over and her frantic stirring stops. She snaps out of it in time to catch my amusement. ‘I know.' She finally cracks a smile. ‘I'm losing it.'

‘You're fine. Focus on your food. I'll take care of the extraneous. But not even I can change the weather.'

‘You sure?' Kiri chuckles mid-sprint from counter to flaming grill. ‘I think you're a goddess.'

I'm not. But I am used to working back-to-back shifts. I've been doing it since I was thirteen and got my first kitchen-hand job. When Romy—owner of the café I work a day shift at—phoned half an hour before closing saying the manager at the gondola restaurant was down with flu and they desperately needed a head waiter, I said yes. Sure I've already worked a twelve-hour day, plus I have a midnight-till-closing shift at a dive bar later tonight, but I need the money. And not just because of the cost of living here.

Queenstown is mega-expensive. The snowy mountain paradise in New Zealand's South Island is stunningly beautiful with incredible views and adventurous opportunities. It's super popular with the wealthy—there are vast numbers of stunning, luxury leisure homes everywhere. It feels as though every other café customer is a billionaire. They dress in sleek merino jumpers, rock-star jeans and mingle with the travellers who flit in to enjoy the slopes and adrenalin hits. They all have high expectations of service. Because I'm reliable I've got more work than I can manage. I hold down multiple food service jobs while building a social media side hustle because, not only do I need to make enough for my own survival, but I support my sister. Ava's four years younger than me and a genius but even with her scholarships she needs additional support, and I don't want our screwed-up family stopping her from succeeding.

So I quickly head out to scope the situation. Honestly, it's pretty wild. Primary guest Simone Boras is Australian, as are her mostly female guests, and for her seventy-seventh birthday she's booked out the entire restaurant. They're loud, they're laughing, they're definitely here to have a good time and we're going to need that entertainment soon to keep the energy up and divert attention from the delay on dessert.

‘Simone, I'm Talia.' I smile at her. ‘I'm here to make your martinis.'

Simone's polite and charming enough but I recognise the slight edge in her smile. She expects the best. If I deliver, she'll approve. So I move fast. It doesn't take me long to get to grips with the coffee machine and I make her martini. No one makes a meaner coffee than me.

And her delight is genuine. ‘Thank you, Talia.'

I don't mind guests with high standards when they appreciate my work.

‘Can we get two more of those?' one guest calls to me. ‘They look amazing.'

‘Of course.' I smile. ‘I'll bring them right over.'

As I make more martinis I talk strategy with the servers and send them out with the cocktails. The vibe of the room lifts. When I get a chance I check on Kiri. She's still sweating bullets but the kitchen feels less chaotic.

Pleased, I take a breath and roll my shoulders. While I'd managed a swift shower, put on a clean dress, redone my hair and minimal make-up, my freshen up was only superficial. I'd kill to put my feet up. Instead I head to the storeroom to find those extra glasses. Hopefully a few moments' respite from the noise will help. The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows on the way certainly does. The sun is just setting. Wild clouds skitter over the wide sky, threatening to cloak the mountains in a moody shroud. Below, the city lights twinkle obliviously and the lake stretches into the distance. Some time I'll actually have a day off. I'll not stand for hours, not wait on others. I'll curl in front of a cosy fire and a big window, drink something hot and sweet and do nothing but gaze at the view. I'll just breathe.

But right now breathing is the only thing on that list that I can accomplish. I go into the storeroom, lean back against the door to close it and—

Breathing stops. Jaw drops. Brain...brain...?

Tall. Muscular. Shoulders. Ruffled hair. Rippled abs. Blue eyes. Intense blue eyes. Very intense.

In a succession of still shots, details imprint on my mind one at a time. Matching the frantic beat of my heart.

I know about the abs because he's half naked. He's a chiselled, X-rated, total wow of a man. And he's half naked.

He has a crisp white shirt in his hand and apparently does not give a thought about his state of undress and my observation of it. As I stare he shakes out the shirt and shrugs it up over those broad shoulders. I realise my mouth's ajar but it's dry and I don't shut it. I can't. I can't do anything because my brain is completely incompetent. The visuals are more than it can handle. He leisurely begins buttoning the shirt, his abs and pecs and other muscles ripple. He's honestly like not from this earth. And that's when it dawns on me.

‘You're the entertainment...' I slowly mutter. And yes, I'm marvelling.

Wow. Good for Simone. I really want to be her when I grow up.

His long fingers pause on the third button down. His eyes widen.

‘You're late,' I add after an uncomfortable beat. ‘It's okay though. They're not even onto dessert yet. They're too busy talking but you're going to stun them into silence.'

There's silence right here, right now. And it only grows.

He's frozen—the half-buttoned shirt still reveals a wide expanse of muscled body. I feel my face getting hotter.

‘Is there a problem?' I blink and the smallest portion of brain comes back online. I'm used to sorting problems. ‘Do you need help or something?'

‘I had to sponge a mark off my shirt.'

‘Where?' I squint. It looks perfect to me.

‘Here.'

I have to step closer to spot the small smudge.

‘Oh, they're never going to notice that,' I scoff. ‘You should've made it more wet,' I joke. ‘That would be...'

At his jerky movement I trail off and clear my throat awkwardly.

‘Would be...?' He prompts me.

I glance up and am ensnared in his gaze. He's insanely good-looking. But of course he is. Simone is the type to have only the best money can buy. He must command squillions per performance.

‘I thought you guys had like special tear-away shirts and things,' I mumble inanely, trying to turn away but only half succeeding. His isn't some cheap satin suit with easy-open Velcro sides or anything. It's high end. ‘Those shirt buttons are stiff. Is it a deliberate thing? To prolong the tease?'

‘The tease?' A strange tenor flecks his low echo as he resumes fastening the buttons.

I suppress the shiver skittering down my spine. ‘That's what it's all about, right?' I can't stop myself babbling. ‘Taking the time, building the anticipation...'

Shut up, Talia.

‘Mmm...' He nods and reaches for a black jacket I hadn't even noticed slung on a nearby shelf and pulls a strip of black silk from the pocket. There's a gleam in his eyes that makes shivers ripple through me. ‘Could you help me with my tie?'

I don't believe for a second that he can't tie his own bow tie. He'll be taking it off and on multiple times a night.

‘I can't do it without a mirror,' he adds, apparently having just read my mind.

I summon self-control. Because I fix things. I oblige. It's what I do. ‘Of course.'

I step closer and take the silk. He is much taller than me and I have to rise on tiptoe. Freshly shaven, his jaw is sharp and smooth and I smell a hint of cinnamon. His eyes are very blue and, honestly, I forget what I'm meant to be doing. I wobble. Instantly he puts a hand on my waist to steady me but the contact hits like an electrical current and it resets my heart. It beats faster. I breathe faster too. And my skin seems to have tripled in sensitivity because I swear I can feel the heat of him through my dress. Now my legs are wobblier still and suddenly it's not just his hand at my waist, but his arm curled around my back pulling me closer until I'm all but leaning against him. It's super embarrassing but there's a glint in his eye that makes me refuse to step back and admit my mortification.

I'm all thumbs. I make myself remember what I'm supposed to be doing. Simone. The birthday guest should have the best night of her life.

‘They're pretty noisy but in good spirits,' I babble as I tie the silk. ‘Mostly women. It's a birthday, you know?'

‘I know.'

Yeah, of course he does. He's an absolute professional. He has a calm, confident deliberation about him, there's no rushing him. I can't resist breathing in again to appreciate that cinnamon. His hair has an ever so slightly damp look to it. He's a pillar of sensual heat and I've basically plastered myself all over him.

I'm jealous of Simone and her party. Would it be okay to loiter at the back of the room during his show?

A wave of lust washes over me. I almost choke. I don't behave like this. I don't gawp at men. I prefer to avoid them—I have other priorities. Besides, I don't want to risk discovering I've inherited my mother's appalling taste in men. But I can't stop staring—or leaning on him. I even pat his chest once I've finally finished the tie.

‘You'll give her a good time, won't you?' I mumble. ‘She's nice.'

He blinks. ‘A good time?'

My fingers seem to be stuck to his chest. I can't lift them away from the heat of him. The hard strength is compelling. Instinctively I spread them wider. He tenses even more. We're so close and it's madness. I manage to lower my gaze from his but I only get as far as his mouth.

‘Do I pass inspection?' he mutters.

‘I guess...' I bite my lip.

‘Aren't you in charge around here?'

I shake my head. I'm not in charge of anything right this second and that is so not like me. ‘I'd better get back to...'

‘To what?' He leans a little closer.

I manage to breathe but I get another hit of that soap and I'm brainless again. ‘Making coffee. I make a lot of coffee. But that's okay. I actually love making coffee.'

He nods. ‘I love my job too.'

Yeah. ‘I bet you're really good at it.'

‘So I've been told,' he says gravely.

I should step back but he hasn't released me and I'm completely immobilised. There's another long moment where we stand too still, too silent, too close. My heart is pounding so hard he must be able to feel it. His mouth moves and he actually smiles. Everything seems awfully intimate but at the same time it's shockingly easy. I don't know this feeling. It's as if I've stepped through a portal and now a swirling bubble of heat spreads from a secret source low in my belly. Warmth and light ripple through me, and something silkier—something forbidden. It snakes around me like a ribbon, drawing me closer. Binding me to him. I don't want it to end.

I hear something like a groan and with a small gasp I realise it came from me.

I'm too busy. I'm too alone. But I need to be. Ava is relying on me. Romy is relying on me. Kiri is relying on me. So is Simone. And I'm relying on me. There's no one else I can rely on.

‘You really shouldn't be any later,' I say firmly.

‘You really care about whether she has a good time?'

‘Yes,' I growl. ‘I really do. And not because she's paid for it. She's a nice person. How people like her treat people like me and you is very telling.'

‘People like her?'

‘Obscenely wealthy.' Aside from the whole book-the-whole-restaurant-out fact, Simone has the look—the silk clothes and gleaming jewels. Most of the ultra-wealthy people I've met are too used to getting whatever they want. At best they take people like me for granted and at worst, treat me like dirt. Either way I know very well I don't fit in their world. ‘But she's a good one.'

His expression tightens. ‘To people like you and me?'

‘Service industry survivors.' I half smile. Bracketing myself with him feels good. ‘She deserves a good night,' I say softly. ‘Don't make her wait any longer.'

‘Okay,' he agrees equally softly but he doesn't release me. ‘I won't make her wait...'

I'm struck by the craziest thought that he's about to kiss me. The even crazier thing is that I'm about to let him.

‘Talia?' Kiri's voice pierces through the door. ‘Any luck?'

I flinch, returning to reality with a jump. He steps back. Cold air ripples over the space on my back where his arm rested. I brace to stop myself stumbling after him.

Kiri's question slowly sinks in. I've completely forgotten why I came in here and I have no idea how long I've been standing here just—

‘Glasses,'I remember dazedly. ‘I need to find glasses.'

‘That's why you needed to get so close just now?' A low laugh escapes him. ‘So you could see me properly?'

‘See your tie. Yes.' But I can only stare at him again—his smile steals everything.

‘Sorry, sweetness. No luck tonight.' He leans forward and kisses me on the cheekbone. It's such a soft, swift brush of his lips that I wonder if I imagine it.

I don't answer. I can't. My brain is mush.