Angel-chan: Okay So I'm back with that next chapter. So lets get straight to that story Ikuto if you would please. *smiles*

Ikuto: xXxStrawberryAngelxXx does not own The plot Chocolate Kisses Judith Ardle does.

Angel-chan: Yes now then Please enjoy.

9:47 a.m.

Amu was stirring the chocolate and corn syrup she had just melted in the microwave when the dreaded phone call came. "Hello?"

"Amu! Where the hell are you?"

It was Angel Moon. And she sounded frenzied. Amu glanced over at Angel's far from frenzied brother, who stood at the sink, rinsing out the lidded bowl that had once contained yogurt dip.

Over the past half hour, he had made himself indispensable, helping her to clear the van of any salvageable food. While she made the cake batter, he had cleaned the van. Now the cakes were baking in their valentine-shaped pans in Amu's industrial double oven.

She still faced a ton of work. She had no time to explain everything to Angel. If she had a spare minute, she would have preferred to spend it gazing appreciatively at Ikuto's lanky, virile physique, at his disheveled mane of hair, his snug-fitting black jeans, his surprisingly competent hands and his sexy indigo blue eyes.

"You know where I am," she said to Angel.

"You've just phoned me."

"I am at Tsukiyomi Hall."

Angel's tone was edged with hysteria. "There's no food here. You said you would start bringing the food over at nine. It's now almost ten o'clock and there's no food here."

"I—uh—I had to revise my schedule," said Amu. From across the room she saw Ikuto grinning at her, openly eavesdropping.

The eavesdropping she did not mind. His grin, however, stroked her nerves into an overheated state of awareness. One corner of his mouth was skewed slightly higher than the other, leading his smile a predatory quality.

Why had she let him inside her house? Why had she trusted him—and herself? The brightly lit kitchen was as unromantic a setting as she could imagine, yet whenever she glimpsed Tsukiyomi Ikuto, she felt soft and syrupy inside. She could focus only so much on the numerous tasks that awaited her. Part of her mind—the warmest, most womanly part—clung to him like sweet, sticky honey and refused to let go.

She turned to stare at the yellow ceramic tiles lining the wall. "Mrs. Moon, everything is just fine. I'm very busy right now, so—"

"When are you going to start bringing the food over?" Angel continued. "I told my friends they'd get to see the cakes if they come her at twelve."

"The cakes aren't going to be ready at twelve," Amu informed her.

Angel shrieked. "I'm paying you a lot of money for those cakes."

And they'll be worth it," Amu assured her. "I'll bring then over as soon as they're ready."

"What do you think; we can sit around all day waiting?" Angel sounded as if she were speaking through clenched teeth. "If you don't have the cakes here by noon—"

"You can see them this evening," Amu insisted, struggling to keep her exasperation out of her voice. This was the most important job Rose Petals Banquetshad ever had. Angel Moon was her most influential client. "I promise you, the caked are going to look magnificent. Why don't you wait and be surprised?"

"I want a preview." Angel said petulantly.

"I wish I could give you one, but I can't. Trust me; everything's going to be wonderful." Unless you keep me on the phone all morning, she added silently, glancing towards the cooling chocolate in the bowl on the work island. "I really have to get back to work, Mrs. Moon. Just relax. The cakes are going to be great."

Angel mumbled something and hung up. Amu hung up, too. She rested her head against the cool, smooth titles and let out a weary sigh.

"She has a way with people," Ikuto remarked, sounding much too close. Amu flinched and spun around to find him directly behind her, leaning against the work island and regarding her with a wry smile.

"Your sister is very nice."

"My sister is a total bitch. What did she tell you?"

Amu pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out her true sentiments. "What she did was hire me to feed one hundred-fifty people at Tsukiyomi Hall this evening. It's an opportunity I can't afford to blow." She pushed past Ikuto and reached for the bowl of chocolate.

Ikuto rested his elbows on the island, propping his chin in his hands and watching her. "Are those the kisses?"

"They will be."

"When do I get to eat them?"

"Tonight. Can you pass me those candy molds near the sink?"

While Ikuto went to get them, she pulled a bottle of the bourbon out of a nearby cabinet. Ikuto turn back in time to see her pour several generous splashes into the chocolate. "Ah, so that's the secret ingredient?"

"One of them." She added a hefty portion of cinnamon, several generous shakes of ginger and a less generous shake of ground cloves then poured the chocolate into the molds.

"How did you learn to make chocolate kisses?" he asked.

"How did you learn to finance new technologies?" This is my job Ikuto. It's what I do."

He gazed around the room, silently appraising her workspace, a cramped suburban kitchen, which had been completely remodeled with industrial appliances to accommodate her business.

Amu dreamed of someday moving Rose Petals Banquets out of her home and into a commercial building with space that she could design from scratch. However, she would have to land quite a few more jobs like the Valentine's Day cotillion before that could happen. She also hoped she would be able to hire an assistant or two. She desperately wanted an us, so the phrase "Let us cater to you" on her truck would be accurate. She wanted to reclaim her weekends, to be able to share the burdens as well as the pleasures of her work.

It would be nice to have company while she worked, too, she thought as she glanced up from the candy molds and found Ikuto observing her intently. An odd ripple of heat coursed through her, and she decided that if she ever did have the chance to hire an associate she would make sure it was not a man with bedroom eyes.

She filled the last molded indentation. Ikuto reached out an caught a drip of chocolate on the rom of the bowl. He licked his finger and moaned. "This is fantastic."

"It's just candy," she said with a laugh.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He ran his finger around the bowl. "I don't even like chocolate."

"Everybody like chocolate," she argued, sliding the trays into the refrigerator.

"Not me." He belied his claim by pulling the bowl closer to him and scooping another bit of the gooey chocolate onto his finger. "Chocolate's too complicated. I like vanilla better."

"Vanilla's too virginal," Amu said, then bit her lip and cringed. Merely uttering the word "virginal" in Tsukiyomi Ikuto's presence seemed like a fetal mistake.

His silence convinced her of it. She risked a fleeting glance his way. He was once again regarding her with inscrutable intensity, his gaze penetrating, his smile enigmatic. A tiny drop of chocolate clung to the corner of his mouth and Amu found herself wondering what it would be like to lick it off.

Forget it. Even if the only woman in his life at the moment was his mother, Amu couldn't allow herself to entertain any notions about kissing Ikuto. He was out of her class, in every definition on the word. The scion of the richest family in town, the brother of the most powerful bitch in town…

Forget it.

She headed towards the oven to check the baking cake layers. To her surprise, Ikuto blocked her path. "You like chocolate better than vanilla?" he asked.

"No," she lied.

"But you think complicated is better than virginal."

She felt her cheeks grow warm. "I'm sorry I said that."

"I'm not." He skimmed his finger along the surface of the bowl once more. "This is the most complicated chocolate I've ever tasted. Maybe that's why I like it so much."

"Well, enjoy yourself," she said, moving to step around him.

"Before she could stop him, he poked his chocolate-covered finger into her mouth. Her eyes widened with shock, but her tongue reflexively lapped the tangy sweetness from his skin. His sensual grin caused her cheeks to grow hotter. A feverish flush spread through her body.

She opened her mouth and backed away. "Mr. Tsukiyomi—"

"Uh-oh," he said, still grinning. "That's an extremely vanilla reaction."

"I'd just as soon keep things vanilla between us," she said trying to forget the erotic sensation of his finger between her lips, trying to convince herself she'd responded not to the smooth, hard texture of his fingertip but to the chocolate blanketing it. "I don't even know you."

"I don't know you either," he conceded, "but I think I'm beginning to understand what a Rose Petals Banquets is all about." He traced a writhing line through the thickening vestiges of chocolate in the bowl. "Come on—share it with me." He extended his finger towards her.

"Really, Ikuto—"

He brushed his fingertip along the curve of her lower lip. Her muscles grew suddenly; treacherously tense as he smoothed the warm, fluid chocolate across her lip. Her breathing grew shallow, her hips taut as his gaze bore down on her, his eyes glittering with dark blue and purple and shallow gray as he ran his finger slowly over her mouth. She sucked own her lower lip removing the chocolate with her teeth and then her tongue. His smile faded as he leaned towards her. He was going to kiss her, and for a crazed moment, she wanted him to.

With a small, helpless moan, she spun away. "You'd better leave," she murmured.

She heard him exhale. He drummed his fingers against the counter. A faint laugh escaped him. "I left my bike at Tsukiyomi Hall."

She didn't dare to look at him. She knew that if she did she would once again succumb to the aching expectation, that yearning for his kiss. "I'll drive you there."

"You've got cakes in the oven."

"I'll drive you there when they're done."

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

That got a guffaw from her. "If you want to sweet-talk me, you're going to have to do better than that."

"Wound my efforts be worth it?"

Grinning, she shook her head. "I have a lot of work to do. I didn't invite you here so I could listen to blarney."

"Blarney?" he echoed, incredulous. "Blarney? St. Patrick's Day is next month, sweetheart."

She sidled past him and opened an oven door. "When your last name is Hinamori you're allowed to say 'blarney' whenever you want."

"Is that a fact?"

"On the other hand," she continued, testing on the cake layers, "When your last name is Tsukiyomi, you're not allowed to say 'blarney' at all."

"We WASPs use to much cruder term," he said. "Something to do with bovine digestive system."

"Your word will do as well as mine. They both described the line you just handed me."

"It wasn't a line," he declared, cupping his hand over her shoulder and urging her around to face him. "You're a beautiful woman."

He sounded much too sincere. And for a few mindless moments, she could believe that he thought she was beautiful.

"Do you honestly want to keep things vanilla between us?" he aside, his voice low and husky.

No, she wanted to cry out. No, she wanted to make things as complicated as chocolate. But while she could allow herself a brief, reckless daydream, she wasn't stupid enough to follow through on it. "Did it ever occur to you that I could be married?"

"Are you?" She lowered her eyes to his jaw, to the smooth clean skin.

"No," she confessed. "But I'm not interested in an affair. I'm not looking for a romp. If that's that you came here for, you're wasting your time."

"Well." He released her shoulder and she drew in a long breath.

"That was blunt."

"Blarney isn't my long suit."

"Do you believe in Valentine's Day?"

"As a profitable day for Rose Petals Banquets? Sure."

"Where's your spirit of romance?"

She shot him a scathing look. "I'm a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. Romance is a luxury I can't afford."

That silenced him. And broke the spell between them. He turned and carried the bowl to the sink. "Do you want me to wash this?"

What she wanted was to stop feeling so attracted to him, to stop responding to his intriguing eyes and his provocative smile and the strong, hard heat of his hand on her shoulder, his finger on her lip. Given the impossibility of thst, she wanted him to keep his distance from her.

"If it makes you happy go right ahead."

He sent her a short meaningful look, one that told her exactly what would make him happy.

It was the most un-vanilla look she's ever seen.

Angel-chan: *smiles* I'm happy with this chapter.

Ikuto: *grins* Me too.

Amu: *sobs* I'm not~ Why are you being so mean to me in this chapter Angel-chan~

Angel-chan: *sweat drop/pats Amu's head* Sorry Amu-chan that's how that plot is.

Amu: I also don't like how Ikuto is being a real pervert in this chapter.

Ikuto: That's what makes it even better *smirks*

Amu: ARGH!

Angel-chan: *giggles*

Ikuto: Okay everyone please R&R so that Angel-chan can post up the next chapter as soon as possible so that I can be with my Amu-koi longer *smirks*

Amu: IKUTO!

Angel-chan: *smiles* well See you all next time.