Who knew that Finn Hughes would actually help me?

His swirls aren’t as neat as mine, but they’re passable. And he works quickly, so that by the time I’m done with this bowl he’s ready for the fresh piping bag I hand him.

We cover two thousand mince pies with nutmeg cream.

Then we’re standing there, surveying our work. I’m aware of his gaze on me.

He brushes his thumb across my cheek, coming away white with whipped cream.

My breath catches. I look at him, drawn by some unnamable force. Heat races across my skin, a powerful reaction to the brief caress. It sounds insane, but I want him to touch me again.

“Eva,” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “We can’t.”

I’m not sure what I’m refusing. A kiss. A fuck. I’m refusing to have anything to do with handsome men who murmur promises that I’m weak enough to believe.

His lips quirk. “I could make you enjoy it.”

“That’s even worse.”

A soft laugh. Then his hand lifts my chin. My eyes fall closed. Warm lips descend on mine. I gasp at the contact, and he presses the advantage, opening me, invading me.

He pulls me flush against his hard body, and I feel the ridge of his erection against my stomach. Instinct makes me pull away, but he holds me—firm and unconcerned. “We have to stop.”

His lips brush the curve of my ear. “I could sit you on this counter and drag your dress up. I could taste your pussy. Would it taste like nutmeg? Would it be sweet like whipped cream? No, you’ll have your own perfect flavor. The staff would watch, but they wouldn’t stop me.”

“My mother—”

“She wouldn’t stop me, either. No, she’d be happy enough to land a Hughes. Your father would sell you to me as if you were a plump calf on his farm. How much would you cost, do you think?”

I squirm away from him, but I’m trapped between his hard body and the counter. “I’m not an animal.”

A grunt escapes him. He holds tight on my hips. “Don’t move, darling. Not unless you want to be on your back, your ankles locked behind my back.”

His erection flexes against my hip—a subtle threat. I go still.

He teases my earlobe gently between his teeth. “You act like the quiet, dutiful daughter, but I think you’re more than that. You have secrets, Eva Morelli. And I’m going to know them.”

A shiver runs through me. He sounds sure. “Never.”

“And once I know them, you’ll do anything to keep me from telling the rest of the world, won’t you? I’ll be able to do anything to you as the price for my silence.”

I stiffen. “That’s blackmail.”

He presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “Precisely.”