One More Taste Read Free Page B

love you. But you’re crazy.”
    Carina was right; Emily was crazy. All great chefs were. She stood, hung the binoculars around her neck, and smoothed out her chef’s jacket. “I’ve got to go. I have a lot of work to do.”
    â€œI thought the meal was ready.”
    â€œNot anymore. I’m going to share my peaches with Knox Briscoe.”
    Carina poked her tongue against her cheek as her forehead crinkled with delight. “Someday, one of my lessons about double entendres is going to sink in.”
    Emily wasn’t daft or naive. She knew a double entendre when she heard one—or, more accurately, inadvertently said one—but it wasn’t her fault that the vast majority of people didn’t understand that sex and food were incomparable. The perfect meal trumped sex every time, and anyone who claimed otherwise had obviously never experienced Emily’s cooking. Knox Briscoe didn’t know it yet, but his tongue was about to have the ride of its life.
    With food, of course.
    *   *   *
    Two hours later, Emily pushed a loaded food cart behind the resort’s main reception desk, then through the maze of cubicles and offices tucked away from the guests’ view. She nodded to Ty Briscoe’s secretary, then let herself into his corner office.
    Knox’s fierce intensity beat like waves of power through the air in the room. Emily froze near the door, stunned to find herself suddenly, uncharacteristically, intimidated.
    From where they were deep in discussion at his conference table, Ty afforded Emily a brief glance, but Knox’s focus remained unrelentingly on Ty and the business at hand.
    â€œThat idea has merit,” Knox was saying to Ty in a deep, firm voice. “But my equity firm’s vision extends beyond a cosmetic update. This resort has the potential to become a self-contained city, a beacon for travelers from all over the world. But we have to be willing to take risks.”
    Even from the door, Emily could see beads of sweat on Ty’s bald head. His thick, bulldog neck had turned red, something that only happened when he was keeping his anger in check. Emily wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the larger-than-life man, her father figure for all intents and purposes for the past decade, cowed by another man before. But he was definitely not the alpha in the room today. “Yes, I know, but not—” Ty said.
    Knox plowed ahead. “Yes, but nothing, Ty. You came to my equity firm earlier this year looking for investors and a new vision for your company. You came to me because I’m the best at what I do.”
    Emily shook herself out of her eavesdropping trance and busied herself creating place settings on the table in front of each man. She could have brought along an assistant to do such menial labor, but she’d wanted to make a strong first impression.
    â€œI came to you because you’re a Briscoe and I’m not getting any younger. It was time to pass this business to the next generation of my family. Our family.”
    Knox’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Emily, as though her presence required him to censor himself. She retreated to the food cart, willing herself invisible so the two men would keep talking without paying her any more mind.
    â€œLet’s not pretend that warm, fuzzy family feelings made you pick up the phone to schedule that initial meeting with me,” Knox said. “You needed equity. But it was my ability to see the untapped potential in this place that allowed me to put together a team of investors so quickly. The trick is, there’s no such thing as free money, Ty.”
    â€œYou don’t think I know that, boy?”
    Knox’s eyes gleamed, but rather than address Ty’s question, he continued. “You and I are now beholden to Briscoe Equity Group’s investors, as the majority shareholders, and they expect us to make their money back plus at least a