Her arms were tight at her sides, her hands clenched. “It’s not your chocolate, though.”
He smiled. “It’s very flattering that you enjoy my chocolates that much.”
The worried bend of her brows had yet to change. “Do you think maybe you could…sell me your recipe?”
“My chocolate recipe?” He laughed. “No, sorry, that’s a proprietary secret.” Couldn’t be duplicated anyway, unless she could breathe fire.
“I was afraid of that.” She sighed. “Then maybe you could open your shop for a few minutes so I can get some more before you leave? Also, when do you think you’ll be back exactly?”
They were verging into weird territory here. On one hand, he wouldn’t mind selling her more chocolate before he left; on the other, she was asking questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. “I don’t know. That’s why I didn’t put a date on the sign. Maybe as long as a week. Possibly longer.” Especially if he had to take a trip to his new wife’s place first.
“Longer than a week?” She shifted uncomfortably and chewed her bottom lip. “That’s a long time.”
“Can’t be helped.” Speaking of help, she might need a twelve-step program for her sweet tooth. He’d never encountered someone with a chocolate addiction this intense.
Her breathing had picked up. She stepped toward him slightly. “Please. I need that chocolate. You don’t understand. I have money. And I’d be willing to sign something promising I’d never share your recipe with anyone else, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have my own chocolate supplier. I only want yours for my own personal use.”
Her own supplier? Then it clicked. She was Nasha Black of Black Horse Bakery. But that only raised more questions. And not just about why she wanted his chocolate recipe. His eyes narrowed. “How did you find out where I lived?”
She frowned. “I asked a friend. Will you at least open your shop? How about if I promise to buy everything? All of the chocolate you have left.”
His brows shot up. “Really?”
“I swear. I’ll take it all.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.” That should give him time to finish cooking his breakfast and eat it.
“Half an hour. You promise?”
Boy, she sure was worried about that chocolate. “I promise.”
She exhaled. “Thank you. See you there.”
Nasha paced outside of The Chocolate Dragon ten minutes before Charlie was due to arrive. She couldn’t help herself. She was a desperate woman. She couldn’t go without tasting again after the sudden revelation of what she’d been missing out on all these years.
Thankfully, Deacon Evermore had been understanding enough to give her Charlie’s address. Granted, she’d fibbed and said it was a birthday cake emergency, but Deacon had been too tired to ask questions.
She had to try again to talk Charlie into parting with his recipe. There had to be something in there that would explain why she was able to taste his chocolate. Maybe it was magic. So what? She was fine with that.
She’d tried magic before. Custom made spells designed to heighten the taste of her food to the point that a normal person’s tastebuds would be blown out.
Hadn’t worked. She’d tried having herself spelled, too. That hadn’t gotten her anywhere, either.
Of course, she’d had those spells built blindly because she refused to tell anyone what her curse was. Maybe if she’d had the spells built specifically for her, that might have made a difference.
Emeranth was a witch. So was her aunt. Maybe if Nasha confessed the truth to them, they could do something for her.
She stopped pacing to look through the shop windows.
Then again, she’d already found an answer. It was right there, behind that glass. She just had to figure out what the trick was. What was he putting in his chocolate?
And if he didn’t give her the secret, how on earth was she going to survive a whole week without being able to taste again?
The very idea set her nerves on edge. She did not want to go back to the bland, flavorless life she’d been living. Not after experiencing the joy of taste. The joy of chocolate.
The jangle of keys behind her made her turn.
Charlie walked toward her. He’d parked at the curb and she hadn’t noticed. He gave her a look. “You really like my chocolate, huh?”
“Yes.”
He stopped at the door, making no effort to unlock it. “You own the bakery on Main Street.”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“What’s wrong with the chocolate you use in your shop?”
“Nothing. It’s great. But for personal consumption, I like yours better. A lot better.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She could tell he wasn’t convinced that was the whole truth. Just saying it out loud seemed to underline how thin of a reason it was to show up at his house and offer to buy out his whole shop before the sun was even up. “I know this is an inconvenience for you. I’m sorry. I really appreciate it.”
He shrugged and finally put the key in the lock. “It’s fine. You get what you want, and I don’t have any product sitting around going stale while I’m away.”
He pushed the door open. “Come on in.”
As soon as she stepped through, the delicious, mouth-watering, life-changing aroma hit her. She closed her eyes and stood in the center of the shop, inhaling it. She needed a piece right now.
She opened her eyes and scanned the display cases for the piece she wanted first. Which was when she realized there was hardly any chocolate left at all. “This won’t do,” she muttered.
“What won’t do?”
“There’s hardly any chocolate left.”
His brow bent. “There’s still a good bit.”
She shook her head. The panic she’d felt earlier was rising up again. “Not enough. I need the recipe. Please. Name your price.”
He snorted. “It’s not for sale. I told you that. Look, I’m sorry, but all I can offer you is the chocolate left in the shop. If you want it, great. If not, I need to get back home.”
She was on the verge of losing it. She had to make him understand. “There has to be something you want. Something you’d trade in exchange for the recipe. Please.”
“Ma’am, the only thing I want isn’t something anyone can give me so—”
“Name it. I can get you anything you want. My father is a very powerful man. He has resources.”
Charlie crossed his arms, eyes suddenly fiery with interest. “Can he provide me with a wife for the next week or so?”
Nasha had no idea what this man might need a wife for, but at this point, she didn’t care. She refused to let her curse win. She gave Charlie a haughty gaze. “No. But I can.”
Charlie hadn’t been expecting that. He uncrossed his arms. “You mean…you?”
“Sure,” Nasha said. “I’m a woman. I’m the right age to be your wife. Why not?”
Well, for one thing, she wasn’t a dragon-shifter. “You don’t even know what I need a wife for.”