She traced a seam on the wooden table with her fingertip, and he allowed himself to be distracted by the thought of those fingers tracing his skin. Having her here, in his space, for three days would be glorious torture. She straightened, her face alight with recognition. “Chef Lucciola.”

“Pretty. What does it mean?”

“Firefly. It’s what Angelo calls me.”

The name suited her. A small package that burned bright, shining joy and happiness to everyone around her. He wished he’d thought of it himself. “Chef Lucciola, then.”

She pushed her chair back, so Kit rose and went to help. He moved closer than he needed to, merely enjoying the sight and smell of her once more. When she was on her feet the air in the room stilled, time slowing as they both paused, inches away from each other. There were so many things he wanted to say, to ask . . . but he was tongue-tied. It was imperative that he keep his distance. She had a life to lead and so did he, and it wasn’t fair to flirt with her when his intentions were far from serious. Nevertheless, he couldn’t force himself to edge aside.

Finally, she decided for him and stepped away, her hands twisting in the fabric of her skirts, smoothing and fluffing. “I’ve written instructions for some of the items needed, such as the oysters and the lobster. You’ll buy them Friday morning from the vendors I specified.”

“Very good. Do you need me to hire any staff to assist you in the kitchen?”

“I already have someone to help me.”

Irrational jealousy streaked through his nerves to tighten his muscles. “Oh? Who?”

“You.” Spinning on her heel, she started for the door. “Until next week, Kit.”

Chapter Sixteen

Alice flipped through the pages of the Ladies’ Home Journal on Tuesday afternoon, not really seeing the words or pictures. Her mother was on the telephone to Daddy, which was the critical part of Alice’s plan. She wasn’t terribly worried, however. Mama never denied him, not when he put his foot down about something. Then Alice would be free, sort of, to help Kit and Mr. Clarke with their event.

It would require dodging her maid as well as the hotel staff at the front desk. But she could give her maid the days off and sneak out through the kitchen. No one would ever believe she was breaking the rules or lying. Alice Lusk never did anything scandalous or shocking. She played by the rules and did what she was told, end of story.

A lifetime of compliance would earn her a few days of rebellion.

She could hardly wait. She and Kit would spend three days together in the club’s kitchen and, though there could never be anything more, she was looking forward to every second.