He did. Then closer still.

When he was within a foot of her, so close she could see the tiny laugh lines fanning out from his eyes, she caved and backed up.

At her movement, his grin spread and he reached out, brushing her hip with his long fingers. Forcing herself completely still was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, though she didn’t understand why. He was just a man. She wasn’t afraid of him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, cool as a cucumber and proud of it. He didn’t have to know her heart had nearly accelerated right out of her chest.

All because of a touch.

He flicked the knob on the range, heating it. Then he looked at her, mischief in his smile, in every inch of his strong, masculine, sexy, slightly dangerous-looking body.

Dangerous because she liked strong, masculine and sexy.

Too bad she didn’t like him.

“Just getting you started,” he said.

“Oh.” Her voice was breathless, and irritated. She cleared her throat.

He was still far too close.

“What did you think I was doing?”

“Um…” The phone on the wall rang and Holly dove for it, pathetically thankful for the diversion. “Hello!”

“Is this Café Nirvana? I need to speak to my daughter.”

“Mother!” Holly gripped the phone tight, never in her life so happy to hear anyone’s voice, even her mother’s. “Where are you?” she asked, hoping the answer was close.

“Your father and I have decided to take a vacation.”

“But…you’ve never taken a vacation in your life.”

“I know. It’s definitely time, don’t you think?”

No. No, she didn’t! “Mother, I’m glad you’ve decided to take some time for yourselves, but don’t you think maybe now is a bad time?”

“It’s the holidays.”

“Exactly my point,” Holly said, relieved her mother was coming back to her senses. “You can’t take a vacation over the holidays. It’s…too crowded.”

“Which is why it’s so perfect. We’re going to avoid all the crowds by taking a cruise.”

“A cruise.”

“A month-long cruise of the Greek Islands, isn’t that exciting? We’ll be back before Valentine’s Day.”

Holly’s stomach sank to her toes. “That’s a very long time. What about the café?”

“Oh, the Nirvana? You said you would handle it. It’ll sell sooner or later.”

Holly gripped the phone tighter. “You said a month.”

“Give or take. And you’re always saying you wish we would take your exploits more seriously.”

“Yes, but-”

“And as we’ve been telling you for years, there’s no time like the present.”

Over the line Holly could hear the murmur of a crowd, then the unmistakable horn blow of a ship, a very large ship.

“Gotta go, dear.”

“But-”

“Take care of that place. We promised you would.”

“Yes, but-”

Click.

Holly stared at the receiver in her hand and felt as if she’d been run over by a Mack truck. “Gee, Merry Christmas. Happy New Year.”

She was on her own in this.

A small part of her felt like running. It wasn’t an alien feeling; she’d been running from things all her life. And all of it came down to her own fears. When the tough got going, so did Holly. That had always been her motto.

But no longer. It had to stop, now. Especially when her parents probably expected her to do just that.

Which meant she had to swallow the urge to make for the door, and figure this mess out instead. By herself.

“Everything okay there, princess?”

Damn, he was still here. Probably waiting for her to fail, just like her parents. He’d pegged her as a spoiled, stubborn, selfish city girl.

Well, she was a spoiled, stubborn, selfish city girl. But she was here, it was done, and she was going to come out on top.

And she wasn’t going to let anyone see her struggle to get there, that was for damn sure. With a cool smile in place, she turned and faced Riley McMann.

He stood there looking for all the world as if he’d been born in that tacky apron he’d put on.

“Why are you still wearing that?”

“Someone’s got to carry out all that food you’re going to be cooking.”

She was going to have to cook. And she could barely boil water. This just got better and better. “I need to hire a chef like yesterday,” she said to herself, considering. “I could place an ad-”

“No go.” Riley smiled sweetly-she was beginning to mistrust that smile-and said, “The local paper comes out only once a week.”

“Let me guess…and today’s the day?”

“I’ve got it spread across my desk as we speak.”

For some reason, his tone and words combined to create an incredibly naughty picture in her head, one of the sheriff standing in his office, looking down at what he had “spread across his desk,” and it wasn’t a newspaper, it was…her.

Okay, clearly she’d been too long without sex.

But now that the picture was in her brain, she couldn’t get rid of it. She glanced at him to see if maybe he’d been provocative on purpose, but he only looked at her from those fathomless, innocent eyes.

Only problem was, no man that breathtaking, that sure of himself, that in charge of his emotions, could ever be innocent. In fact, given his looks, charm and personality, plus his authority in Little Paradise, she’d bet that good Sheriff Riley McMann hadn’t been innocent for a very, very long time. He probably had every single woman-if there even were any-falling all over themselves to catch his attention.

They were welcome to him. Holly had put herself out for a man before; she’d even gone to great lengths to keep him. She’d still gotten hurt. Numerous times, in fact.

Never again.

The next man in her life, if there was one, would be a man who couldn’t get enough of her, who loved everything about her, unconditionally.

The next man in her life would not be one Riley McMann.

“You could place an ad for next week,” he said helpfully.

Great, wouldn’t that just be nice. An entire week without help. “Terrific. Thanks.” She gave him her best I-could-give-a-damn-everything-is-in-control smiles. “I’ll just get started cooking.”

He sent her the smile right back, though he was watching her with a look too personal, too direct, for two complete strangers. “I’ll serve your customers coffee, and whatever you manage to wrangle up,” he said.

Neither of them moved. Around them, the air seemed to sizzle, which confused Holly. She’d never felt anything like this. He was just a cowboy, rough-edged and far too casual for her tastes, and yet already he’d somehow gotten under her skin.

He glanced at his watch. “After that, though, you’re on your own. I need to get back to my office by three for a phone call.”

“I’d rather be on my own right now.” Brave words, not such a brave heart, but she meant it. She wouldn’t accept help, especially his.

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head and reaching out, untied the ribbon he’d put around his waist. It meant she had to touch him, but she’d touched plenty of men before, so it should be no big deal.

But it was.

The minute her fingers brushed against his belly, her entire body tightened. It was only because he was an exceptionally fine male specimen, she told herself, careful to not meet his mocking gaze as she hung up the apron.

“You’re going to refuse my help?” He looked shocked, as if no one had ever turned him down before.

“Yep.”

“Well then, princess-or maybe I should be calling you Ms. Stubborn?”

“Just…go.”

He stood there for another moment, watching her. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I always am.”

His lips curved. “Yeah. I guess you’d better get busy.”

He seemed so calm. Of course he did! He wasn’t about to cook and serve a room full of strangers!

“Call me if you change your mind.”

And admit she was wrong? Not likely.

He left her alone.

Alone.

With a stove.

Well, wasn’t this just a fine and dandy mess? But with the determination and grit that had gotten her through far worse disasters than this, she got busy.

Busy destroying pan after pan.

3

WHAT AN IRONIC twist of fate. Holly had spent much of her adult life flitting from one job to another, gaining a myriad of experiences that she could use in life, and yet the one thing she needed now-okay, the two things-were both something she hadn’t a clue about.

Cooking and people skills.

Anything else, anything, and she might have been able to wing it. Well, cooking she could learn if she had to. After all, they did have a little invention called a cookbook.

But the people skill thing… Being sweet and kind and warm to complete strangers who didn’t know her from Eve? Serving them whatever they needed, and doing it with a smile so that they’d want to come back? That involved trust, lots of it, and Holly didn’t trust easily. She didn’t trust at all.

This was going to be the biggest challenge of her life.

But she wouldn’t give up, even if it meant gritting her teeth and forcing smiles until her jaw was tired. Whatever the people in Café Nirvana wanted, she would find a way to give them. The business would thrive, the Mendozas would eventually sell it, and her parents would look at her with stars in their eyes.

And she could go home.

Home.

That she didn’t really know where home was had her smile faltering there for a moment, but she’d figure that out, too. Soon as she got this serving thing down.

Since Holly had burned just about everything she’d ever attempted to cook, she decided to go with the theory that it was late afternoon by now, and therefore between lunch and dinner, when no food was required.

And what would she do about dinnertime? Well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it. For now, though, she’d been hiding out in the kitchen long enough. She picked up a pitcher of ice water, pasted a smile on her face and headed out to the lion’s den-er, dining area. Show time.

The first thing she did was scan the counter.

Not that she was looking for the tall, rugged and annoyingly handsome sheriff, because she wasn’t.

And anyway, he wasn’t there. A good thing, because he both distracted and flustered her.

And no one was allowed to live once they’d flustered her.

She was doubly glad she hadn’t let him help her because she really hated to be indebted to anyone. Holly Stone made her own way in this world, and she always would.

The tables had practically emptied out, not a positive sign. With her smile still glued in place, she walked to the closet table and nodded to the man who sat there glaring at her.

He weighed 250 pounds minimum, and looked as if he lifted cars for a living. His striped uniform shirt was streaked with grease and the tag on his right collarbone said his name was Dan.

“Hello, Dan,” she said in what she hoped was a pleasant voice. She’d read somewhere people liked to be called by name. She started to fill up his water.

“I wanted food,” he said. “An hour ago.”

“I know,” she said in her nicest voice. “But there’s a small problem with that. There won’t be any more food served until dinnertime. Not today.”

“What?” He was not only unpleasantly surprised, but angry on top of that. “You’re kidding me. What kind of restaurant doesn’t serve food?”

This didn’t bode well for her tip. She kept pouring, determined to make things okay. “Well, you see-”

She broke off when he let out a high-pitched, very girly scream and stood up, dancing around, flailing his arms, looking like Tinkerbell on steroids.

She’d overfilled his cup. Ice water right in his lap.

Well, darn it, he’d distracted her! She whirled to grab a towel off the counter-and wasn’t it ever so wonderful to see that Riley was back, sitting there as if he didn’t have a worry in the world.

“Problem?” he asked.

Holly ignored him to rush back to her dancing customer. He had a huge water stain across the front of his pants. “Here.” She tossed the towel at him because she wasn’t about to dab at his lap herself.

It hit him in the face.

He stopped bouncing, yanked the towel away from his mouth and glared at her. “You,” he said.

He towered over her, really, really unhappy about having ice water poured over his…parts.

“Now, Dan.” Riley stood up, a friendly smile on his face. “It was just an accident.”

Dan didn’t respond to that, just gave Holly one of those looks that made her nervous for her own body parts.

“And with it being such a hot one outside,” Riley continued easily, “I’d think all that cold water would cool you right off, just like a nice swim in a stream. Don’t you think, Dan?”