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compliments. Maybe by the end of this interview, he’d figure out that everything was a test of his resolve to prove he could be her next executive chef. She would never allow someone weak to be under her, in bed or on the line. “But he assured me that you not only possess the necessary skills but also the heart for this profession. Do you think you do?”
    His gaze didn’t waver from hers. “Yes, Chef.”
    Smiling, Anne nodded. “Then don’t prove him wrong. Make me your signature dish. My pantry and fridge are both well stocked. You’ve got an hour. Begin.”
    Unlike the last three idiots she’d interviewed, Jacob didn’t hesitate at this stage. He simply acted. The first man she’d interviewed hadn’t finished in the allotted hour, but at least he’d tried. The second had looked at her dumbly, not understanding what she was asking for. The third had made her a simple salad that had taken all of five minutes for him to toss together then over-dress. She’d thrown him out promptly.
    Jacob glanced up at her from time to time as he gathered things from her orderly kitchen. She’d set up her home like she did her restaurant intentionally. The transition was effortless for her, as it should be for him. Though a chef didn’t need to live his career outside of the restaurant, it should be in his everyday thoughts and actions. Quality, precision, timing. These foundations were everything, and mattered just as much as taste, presentation and creativity to her.
    Anne watched him carefully, judging not only his knife work but his discipline as well. It took a rare person to thrive as an executive chef. The wrong choice in a new hire could kill an established restaurant. The right one would grow with it. Too often, owners settled for less than perfect because of a need to fill that spot in their line. Fortunately for Anne, she had no real need to move on. It was time and she had desires of opening a second restaurant. But there was no immediacy that came with that decision. She’d wait as long as she had to in order to find the perfect fit for her beloved Ale. Nothing less than that would do.
    “Tell me what you’re doing,” she instructed.
    He faltered for a moment, appearing unsure of himself, but he had to do this as well in her line. There were always times when an executive chef had to instruct a sous chef about a particular skill or style of doing something. In her restaurant she was the leader as well as a teacher. Her top candidate would have to be as well.
    “I’m seasoning the potatoes with rosemary and a pinch of salt,” Jacob answered her.
    Anne nodded. “Why?”
    His full lips quirked up into a smile. “Salt brings out the flavor of most foods, just like acidity does, and rosemary gives potatoes a sweet, earthy taste that will go perfectly with the steak I’m making.”
    He worked as he spoke, just as Anne had expected him to. Being a TV chef’s son meant he’d probably spent many hours helping his mom prepare for an episode. Anne didn’t know his mother well, not as well as she knew his father anyway, but she’d seen her shows a few times. She’d even watched her perform once a few years back, when Anne had been a guest chef on Taste, the network that aired his mom’s program. Sadly the name of it escaped her at that moment.
    Jacob brought the steak out of the fridge, letting it warm to room temperature. Though she was proud of him for remembering to let the meat come to temperature before finishing it off, she showed no reaction. He had to know that he was doing the correct thing because it was what he’d been told to do, not because she encouraged him at each step.
    She parted her lips and quickly licked them. He was beautiful to watch, his concentration on his task complete as he moved around her large kitchen. A warmth grew in her core and spread through her breasts and thighs at the sight of him. Her nipples strained against the silk of her bra and she took a sip of the cucumber water