His Naughty Lessons

** Harper **

As it turned out, what Harper expected to be a casual homemade dinner was actually a full onslaught of the senses. She didn't really consider herself a foodie — no foodie would've survived years on microwavable TV dinners — but when the meal was laid out on the table, she still found herself swallowing hard in order to not drool.

Everything looked divine. Veal Milanese with a picture-perfect golden crisp, saffron risotto shimmering in an intoxicatingly rich wine sauce, caprese salad straight from the plant to the table. Topped with a vintage Barolo brought out from the temperature-controlled cellar …

Harper suddenly had a distinct illusion that this was not a friendly "just stop by for dinner" situation at all, but rather a romantic first date. How many ladies had Eli managed to swoon with such a charming evening treat?

"Someday when we both have a little more time," Eli broke her reverie as he popped the cork, "I'll make something that requires more patient waiting. Confit, maybe. We can watch a movie while it cooks — the built-in surround sound in this place is probably the second best perk of living here, after the harbor view."

Harper watched the wine pour from his hold in regal grace. "Somehow I'm not even shocked anymore to hear you casually talk about making confit," she admitted, then offered him a sly grin. "Should I assume this is simply a typical weekday meal for you, or did it take you a few date nights to build up such a classy menu?"

Eli arched an eyebrow.

Belatedly, Harper realized there was something in her words that sounded suspiciously like jealousy. Before she could correct it though, Eli's expression turned back to neutral. "As a general rule," he said, "I don't make dinner for other people. Like I said, cooking is my way to unwind after work, so I keep it private. It won't feel the same anymore once I start using it as a way to impress someone else."

Oh … Well, that was a bit unexpected, and Harper wasn't quite sure how to process the information. Should she be flattered that he made an exception just for her, or was this another one of those friend-zoned situations?

Eli saw the question on her face. Or at least a portion of it. "You are family, Harper." He swirled one of the filled glasses elegantly and placed it in front of her. "Family is not subject to general rules."

… Alright, family-zoned then. The romantic halo glowing over the dinner table seemed to have dimmed a little at that revelation—

"Besides," he added with a wink, raising his own glass to hers, "feel free to take the setup as a prop for your next web novel chapter, in case you're looking for more inspirations. There are lots of scenes out there involving various sauces and whip cream being used creatively … aren't there?"

"…"

The romantic halo shifted once more as Harper felt her cheeks blushing. She hastily clinked their glasses and sought refuge behind the dark wine, taking a large gulp.

~ ~

The meal was delightful, every dish perfect and bursting with layers of flavors. The meat was tender beneath the crisp surface. The risotto was almost unreasonably smooth. Not to mention the tiramisu that actually tasted like fresh coffee and the best Marsala, paired with a flute of sparkling champagne for the closing of the gourmet indulgence …

Harper felt as if her perspective on food had been permanently altered. Not because of the prop reference that Eli dropped earlier, of course — she wasn't thinking about that, not at all — but the sheer exquisiteness of it that put even her favorite restaurants to shame. It was hard to imagine that such an extravagant fare was so carefully planned just for her, for the sole purpose of celebrating her web novel success and helping her relax after a long week at work.

She couldn't help a smile as Eli cleared the table. "Would you believe me if I tell you that was the most incredible dinner I've ever had?" she said honestly. "I didn't even know I needed it, but it worked better than the strongest rejuvenation potion. Now I'm going to be completely spoiled and wish you had a spa or hot tub to top it off with."

Eli looked back at her from the kitchen, then looked toward the overly large sofa in the living room. "I can consider investing in one next time. But for now … There are close enough alternatives. Why don't you go sit on the couch?"

Harper's eyes shifted astoundedly to the direction he was looking. "You don't mean that your couch has a built-in massage seat?"

Eli chuckled, put away the dishes, and nudged her into the living room. Coaxing her into the sofa, he settled down beside her, and a pair of warm hands landed on her shoulders.

"I do have a massage chair," he said. "It's sitting in my office lounge, so that I can get paid while taking a spa break. But I can tell you from personal experience that a machine massager really isn't as good as what people say … It doesn't feel natural like real hands do."

Harper let out a sigh as he started applying pressure, firmly kneading her shoulders. She hadn't realized how sore she was from all the work crammed into the week. "So now you're a practiced massage therapist too?" she marveled. "Is there anything that you don't know how to do?"

She heard the massage therapist laugh. "I suppose you could challenge me." He must be leaning closer now, as the words were brushing lightly against her neck. "Why don't you lie down and see for yourself?"