Aria shut her laptop and shifted the cake she’d finished into a box, labeled the lid and slid the box onto a shelf in the pantry. Then she looked back at the bench. Flour dusted nearly every surface, and cups and spoons were strewn about as if a miniature tornado had whizzed through the kitchen. Sighing, she wiped her hands on her apron and started to clean up.

Every time Eli blinked, he remembered the feel of Aria’s lips against his, the way her soft body had pressed into him, and the small sounds of enjoyment she’d made against his mouth. All in all, he was feeling both guilty and incredibly frustrated. Although he eased his frustration by going for a run and taking a cold shower, his guilty conscience remained.

He hadn’t been gentle. What had come over him? He’d been grateful to her, yes, and she’d provoked him, but it wasn’t only that. Those green flecks in her eyes had glittered. He hadn’t been able to look away from her lips. And before he could think about the pros and cons, he’d kissed her. She’d tasted so good, like sweet strawberries, and he couldn’t get enough.

He would have to apologize; that much was certain. Whether or not she’d asked for it, she’d looked shocked as she fled from him—for the second time, no less. Eli groaned. This apology would need more than words. Women liked flowers, didn’t they? Or did they prefer chocolates? Was this something he ought to know? He didn’t make a habit of being in a position where he had to apologize.

Chocolates, he decided, to satiate that sweet tooth of hers. Great, he’d come up with a plan of action. He put it to the back of his mind as he sipped his coffee and opened the paper. It was Wednesday, which meant the weekly Itirangi newsletter had arrived in the mailbox along with the South Canterbury Chronicle. The newsletter consisted almost entirely of notices for community meetings, book clubs and social nights, with one or two stories about local businesses thrown in. Eli read these with interest. This issue featured an article about the redheaded florist, Emily Parker, and how she’d renovated an old hotel in the town center, then rented out parts of it to other businesses. A photo dominated the front page. Eli studied it. She was pretty, something he’d noticed when they met, but she didn’t stir his interest. No, his interest was reserved for a flighty brunette.