“I don’t believe that.”

She sighed. “Are you trying to be charming?”

“Only a little. I’m practicing.”

She could guess who the master he’d learned from was. “Save it for someone who’s more easily impressed. I’m immune.”

“I noticed. You didn’t like Coach Hawkins much.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Nicole murmured, even though it was true. She thought Hawk was gorgeous and had an amazing body more than capable of making her entire being go up in flames, but that didn’t mean she had to like the man. There was no way she was going to be taken in by his practiced smile and sexual heat that sizzled so much it probably contributed to global warming.

Raoul held open the door to the bakery. Nicole went in and waved at Phil.

“Morning,” she called.

Phil, an older man dressed all in white, including his apron, hurried toward them.

“Morning,” he said, looking Raoul over. “You ready to do work?”

“Yes, sir.”

Phil didn’t look convinced. “This isn’t going to be easy and I’m not interested in complaints. You hear me? No whining.”

Raoul straightened. “I don’t whine.”

“We’ll see.”

Phil led him away.

Nicole watched them go. Raoul would work off what he owed her by scrubbing massive mixing bowls used to make bread dough. That would be followed by an assortment of tasks designed to make Raoul think twice about stealing rather than buying. She wondered if the lesson would be learned or simply endured.

FOUR HOURS LATER Nicole had gone through the pile in her in-basket, a task she always dreaded. But she’d wanted to stay through Raoul’s shift and working in the bakery itself wasn’t going to happen until she was cane-free. She dropped the invoices into a folder and labeled it to go to her accountant. Phil knocked on the open door and stepped in front of her desk.

“How’s it going?” she asked.