Into the Fire by Amanda Usen Page B

and thought about their conversation in the kitchen at the bachelor party. She’d said she needed the prize money, but she’d never actually admitted she’d lied about her menu. He’d drawn his own conclusions.
    “Lila? Were you ever planning on cooking that duck menu for the competition?” he asked quietly, not allowing himself to hope one of those ducks he’d seen in the cooler had been ordered by her. Maybe she hadn’t lied to him. Maybe she had changed her mind.
    She stood, holding cilantro and looking irritated. “Does it matter, Jack? It’s over. You won.” She gestured at their avid audience, clearly hanging on their every word. “I’m not discussing this now. Shut up and cook.”
    “Later then.” He cut the flame, grabbed a pair of tongs, and put the medallions on a pan to rest while he assembled the plate.
    “Or not,” she retorted.
    His suspicion grew. If she had changed her menu at the last minute that would certainly explain why she had flailed during the contest. He’d changed his recipes out of spite. Why would she have changed hers when she clearly had him beat? After all, her menu, if not her actual cooking skills, had won the competition. Shame rose up to burn him with flames hotter than the stove in front of him.
    He pointed at his staff, then at the back door. “Smoke break.”
    When he heard the screen door slam, he turned to Lila. “I would have won no matter what I cooked.”
    Her hand froze mid-chop. “You did not just say that to me.”
    “You choked—hard.” He raised an eyebrow when she dropped the knife and spun to face him. “Truth hurt? I’m familiar with the concept. I’ve had to live with a shit-load of guilt for the last six months as well as the knowledge that even though I won, I didn’t really win. I know I fucked up, Lila. Stealing your ideas was a terrible thing to do, and I’m sorry. But I never would have done it if you had cooked the duck yourself. I freely admit my original plan was boring compared to yours, but I would have finished it on time and gotten it onto the plate. I know why I changed my game plan—I was pissed you lied to me. I wanted to teach you a lesson.” He crossed his arms and followed his hunch. “Why did you change yours?”
    …
    Lila froze, realizing her mistake. She should never have gotten close enough to Jack to whisper in his ear. His body heat had scrambled her brain, making her forget he believed she’d lied to him about her menu. Why did he care so much about the stupid competition? He’d won and she was working for him now—a double victory. Why was he still rubbing it in? First he’d forced her into this impromptu cook-off—which rivaled her nightmares of the competition—and now he wanted to humiliate her further. If he thought she was going to admit he had psyched her out of the win, he was nuts.
    She turned to face him. “Is that how you sleep at night? By telling yourself you would have won anyway? I bet that goes a long way toward easing your conscience.”
    “Not as much as you might think.” He wore the same grim expression he’d worn outside of Personal Chef the other morning.
    She hardened her heart. Oh no, there was no way he was going to make her feel sorry for him. He’d made his bed—right after he’d seduced her in it. Twice. The bastard deserved every minute of uncertainty.
    He stepped closer, trapping her between his body and the counter. “You didn’t answer the question, Lila. Did you lie to me? Or did you change your game plan?”
    She felt the heat of him again, threatening and seductive. He wasn’t going to let it go. She met his gaze, crossing her fingers behind her back. “I lied to you about the recipes.”
    “That evens the score a little bit, don’t you think?” A dangerous smile spread across his face as he leaned forward to put one hand on each side of her.
    “What are you talking about?” She tried to dodge to the side, but he held her in place. “Jackson, stop it.” She