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“Okay, this next one is the fruit saying, ‘Let’s party,’ while the chili says, ‘Hold my beer.’ Are you ready for it?”

I opened my mouth to allow him to feed me, which was a sensuous experience as he slid the spoon against my lips. I expected a normal texture, so it caught me off guard that this bite was so different from the previous ones. The presence of rice threw me momentarily, as did the combination of sweet mango and a spicy heat that took me back to my fun adventures in Thailand. It was a delicious contrast between soothing coconut milk and the vibrant mango, with that fiery zing of chili that contrasted with the rice’s softness.

“Did I stump you?” Adler asked, the excitement clear in his tone.

I scoffed at his presumption. “Do you think a chef who has traveled around the world as much as I have wouldn’t be able to identify spicy mango sticky rice? Be serious, my darling.”

“Getting called your darling makes me a lot of things, but serious isn’t one of them,” he teased.

I chuckled as he brought my hand up to accept another glass. I sniffed it when I brought it under my nose, smelling the coconut milk that would neutralize the Thai chilis that packed a punch, even if it didn’t make me sweat because of my years of familiarity with them. It added to the tropical flavors while also cleansing my palate. I handed it back to him when I finished. “I’d be calling you different things if you were actually bringing the heat. This has all been child’s play so far.”

“Which is a great segue into my next question. Mango sticky rice is the perfect sweet-and-spicy reminder of those romantic getaways everyone dreams about. If you could take a break from the heat of the kitchen, where would you escape to—andplease, take me with you.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You want to go somewhere—just the two of us?”

He snickered. “I mean, yeah, if we’re living out my dream fantasy, why not?”

That was an interesting piece of knowledge. It also was too fun to exploit. “Perhaps somewhere like Fiji with warm sand, crystal waters, and absolutely no distractions in our private villa? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll even consider indulging you with a spicy cannoli.”

An interesting noise escaped from Adler at my flirting. Although I couldn't see, his desire was almost palpable. “That sounds likesucha naughty euphemism.”

“Hide the spicy cannoli?” I laughed at my own joke. “Perhaps if you’re a good boy and I’m feeling indulgent as we spend the evening under the stars, sharing bites and making secrets. That is, if you can handle the heat, my dear.”

“Oh, I can handle the heat,” he replied with a sexy growl that did surprising things to me, igniting a fire in my belly. It was a dangerous feeling that made me want to pin him down and kiss the sass right out of him until he was mewling and pliant beneath me. I didn't understand my own reaction.

The moment of tension between us was thick. He broke it by clearing his throat, and his professional voice was back in place. “So far, you’ve proven you can handle mild to medium spice like a champ, but this next dessert will be the true test of your ability to take the heat.”

“Oh, are you finally bringing some kick into these desserts?”

“This is if summer brought a flamethrower to the beach party.” He pressed the spoon against my lower lip. “Open wide, Chef.”

I didn’t understand why it was such an erotic experience to be fed while blindfolded. The maelstrom of flavors going to war immediately chased that thought out of my head. Juicy, caramelized peaches and buttery pastry tasted sweet, but the chili in the dessert set fire to my tongue. The sharp heat intensified as I chewed, and I covered my mouth as I coughed. Even after I swallowed, the heat burned all the way down.

I held out my hand for a drink as I coughed again. Tears leaked from my eyes as Adler obliged me with a chilled glass. I gulped down the contents gratefully, realizing it was a mango lassi, which helped neutralize the spice. “Dio mio, you call that a dessert? That’s a war crime with a honey glaze!”

It was hard to stay mad at Adler’s peals of laughter. “What were you saying about these desserts not being spicy enough?”

I took another swig of the drink, which helped soothe the disaster zone left in my mouth, but not by much. “It’s so spicy that I’m sweating like a sinner in church.” I wiped my brow, which had grown damp from sweat. “I swear, I can feel the heat of Hell itself. Did you season that with pure spite?”

“Scotch bonnet, which is kind of the same thing, considering this particular kind has an SHU of 300,000,” he answered in an amused tone. “Any guess on what the dessert was?”

It took a moment for me to sort through the burning sensation to process what I had ingested. “Scotch bonnet in a peach galette? You’ve officially lost the plot, my friend. That was a spoonful of beautiful agony.”

“Let’s dig deep on this next question. Other than eating scotch bonnet in a dessert, what’s the biggest professional mistake you’ve ever made, and how did it shape you as a chef?”

It was hard to think with my mouth still on fire, and it made my nose burn, so it took me a few moments to reflect. “Probably opening a restaurant too quickly without taking the time to perfect the details. I rushed it in my youthful eagerness, thinking my charm and a few good recipes would be enough. But the truth is, no amount of personality can fix poor planning. The critics tore me apart, and I deserved it. After that, I learned to slow down, do it right, and never be afraid to turn up the heat when it matters.”

“Oh, I know you can bring the heat, Chef,” Adler practically purred. “But can you handle this grand finale finish?”

“What's next—tear gas tiramisu? Pepper spray pavlova?”

His ominous laughter didn’t bode well for me.

ChapterFour

Adler

“Oh, this is even better,” I said with genuinely sadistic glee. “It’s almost 2,000,000 SHU, so it’s like eating a phoenix’s fiery belch trapped in gooey goodness. Are you ready?”