A Beautiful Star (Beautiful Series, Book 5) by Lilliana Anderson Page A

ended up offering me an apprenticeship. So, when I finished my school certificate, I took them up on it and worked my arse off. I gained the notice of a few food critics, which meant that I was offered positions at more prestigious establishments and then when I turned twenty-four, I was offered the job at Quay as the youngest head-chef they’ve ever employed.”
    “From what I’ve read, you’re a bit of a visionary.”
    “I don’t know that I’d say that, exactly, I just love what I do and so far, my risks have paid off.”
    “And what about Bradley Rae, the man? Are you living the life you envisioned for yourself?” I pick up an olive and drop it in my mouth, and I see the way his eyes follow the movement and darken with desire. I focus my attention on that, focus on the blue of his eyes and the strong line of his jaw. I watch his smooth lips move as he talks, and I remind myself why I’m here and why Brad is right for me.
    “So far, yeah. Lots of travel. A lot of great experiences. Beautiful women who I meet in elevators.”
    “You said you don’t meet that many,” I tease.
    “I don’t.”
    He leans forward, nearing my mouth, his eyes dropping and lifting as if he’s looking for my permission. My breath holds for a moment. I want this man. I chose this man who ticks all of the right boxes and makes me feel special. My tongue snakes out, wetting my lips, knowing what’s coming. Knowing that Brad is the man I’m interested in romantically…
    Closing my eyes, I lean forward, waiting for the connection, and when it comes, it’s a soft brush of lips, and a gentle suck that shifts to soft presses along my jaw, moving slowly toward my ear.
    “There’s dessert at my place if you’d like,” he whispers. “I don’t live far from here.”
    He pulls away and meets my eyes, and I nod my head, smiling as he takes my hand and presses it to his lips. I want to make something with the man in front of me. The man I chose from the start. We could be good together. I like him and he likes me, and together, we work. It’s fun, and it’s light, and there’s none of that confusing intensity that makes everything so hard to see clearly.
    Helping me to stand, he reaches down and collects what remains of our picnic while I fold up the blanket and together, we leave the area quietly so as not to disturb other movie goers.
    He holds my hand, his strong fingers lacing with mine, holding me securely as he walks with me to where he’s parked his car. A beep of his key fob. The basket is placed in the boot of his car before he opens the passenger door for me like all gentlemen do.
    I smile, knowing that this is right. That this is the man I want. I take in his dark hair, his lean build and I watch him as he walks around the car and slides into his seat, asking me if I’m ready as we drive toward his city apartment only a few blocks away from his restaurant.
    “Here it is, home sweet home,” he says as he lets me into his apartment.
    “This is handy for work,” I comment, glancing about and noticing that I can see a slither of the harbour in between the tall buildings that surround us.
    “The big selling point. I can walk to work.”
    Taking in the apartment, I look around as we walk through the living area. It’s clean and very man-like, with dark furniture and little decorative flair. He leads me into the beautifully appointed kitchen, kissing me softly and lifting me onto the large stainless steel benchtop, offering me wine as he sets about preparing our dessert.
    I watch him, admiring his skill, admiring the man, telling myself that this is right, this is what I want. And I drink. I drink nervously.
    “Taste this,” he says, offering me a wafer thin biscuit topped with a mixture of something that tastes like the lightest cheesecake filling imaginable.
    “Wow,” I say, smacking my lips together in pleasure. “This is amazing.”
    “I’m thinking of adding it to the menu. It will have a strawberry coulis with