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“What kind of cake do you like?” Nassir countered.
Janna frowned. Not this again. Not today. “My preference is chocolate. I love anything chocolate. Cocoa, candy, s’mores.”
“S’mores?” He frowned. “What are these s’mores?”
“Graham crackers with hunks of chocolate bars and melted marshmallows. They are fantastic. We eat them mainly when we’re camping.”
“Camping?”
“Yes. In trailers or tents or if you’re really brave, just you and a sleeping bag under the stars.”
“And this is something you enjoy? This camping? With s’mores?”
She could contain a giggle at his skeptical tone. “Yeah. At least I used to. Haven’t been camping since I was a kid.” Her heart pinched at the memories of her and her siblings having fun, before her mom’s accident. She looked away and refocused on the task at hand. “So, yeah. Like I said, I prefer chocolate, but not everyone likes chocolate.”
“I see.” He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, his handsome face serious. “Then I suppose we must try them all to decide. Yes?”
“Um.” Janna chuckled, “Have you seen how many flavors there are?”
“What is the problem? Do you not like sweets?”
“I love sweets. But I also like fitting into my clothes.” She wiped her mouth on a linen napkin, then put down her fork. “Come on, what is your favorite flavour?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Everyone has at least one they prefer over the other.”
“I don’t. Sweets are not my forte.”
She barely managed not to roll her eyes. There was the understatement of the century. She grabbed another selection of cake and set the plate between them. “Here, let’s try this one.”
They each took a bite off opposite sides, watching each other as they chewed. It was a spice cake, laced with cloves and cinnamon.
“Well?” she asked.
“Not bad. I like that it isn’t overly sweet.”
Janna smiled and made a note in her planner, then pulled over another plate. “Okay. Next.”
This selection was orange cake. Not her personal choice, but it was up to him. “Like that one?”
“It’s not bad.” His dark gaze fell to her lips and he reached out to her. Her breath caught as his fingertips brushed her cheek then fell away again. “You had a crumb.”
“Oh.” She forced words past her suddenly constricted throat. “Thanks.”
Heat flared in his eyes. “I like this very much.”
Janna had the sinking feeling he was talking about more than the stupid cake. Trouble was she liked it very much too. More than liked it, truthfully.
“But there is no chocolate,” he said, his voice low and rough with want.
She leaned slightly toward him her heavy eyelids drooping a bit lower. “Perhaps they can drizzle a chocolate glaze over it. That would be awesome.”
“Yes.” He licked his lips and she imagined all the wicked ways she’d like him to use that tongue on her, remembering their kiss from the night before—the taste of him, the heat of him. “That would be most awesome.”
“Sheikh?” the shop owner approached, severing their sensual haze. “Have you made a decision?”
Nassir blinked at Janna several times and she grew fascinated with watching the desire slowly cool in his eyes. She finally sat back when he looked away, wanting desperately to fan her steaming cheeks but not wanting him to know how much he’d affected her. Nassir spoke to the shop owner in rapid Arabic before turning back towards Janna.
