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man. That wasn’t right. While she appreciated that he was willing to help out when he was here on his vacation, for all she knew he couldn’t cook spit.
    Forcing herself to regather her thoughts, she cleared her throat, and asked, “Are you any good? Is your restaurant successful?”
    “Alex,” Bricker said dryly. “The man’s wearing a designer suit. His watch is diamond-encrusted. He’s very good at what he does.”
    Alex blinked and glanced from the suit—which reallylooked very nice on him—to the watch he now appeared to be trying to hide by tugging his sleeve down over it. Despite the discomfitted reaction to Bricker’s pointing out his outer signs of success, she caught a glimpse of the sparkling watch face and acknowledged that the man had money, which suggested some level of success at what he did.
    A curse and the crash of shattering glass from the kitchen made up Alex’s mind for her. She would test him out, and if he could cook, she would accept his help. It would at least give her some more time to find a replacement for Peter while allowing her to make sure the renovations to the new restaurant didn’t run off course again.
    “He can cook something to reassure you if you like,” Bricker announced suddenly.
    Alex nodded at once, and then raised her eyebrows in surprise as she noted the horror on Cale’s face and the sharp way he turned on the other man.
    “You can,” Bricker said insistently, then in tones that suggested a meaning that she didn’t understand, he added, “Trust me.”

Three
    “All right, this will be your station.”
    Cale came to a halt behind Alex and managed to drag his eyes off her rear and to her face when she half turned to glance at him. My life mate. The words drifted through his mind with a lot of wonder attached. Marguerite had been right. He couldn’t read Alex Willan. She was his life mate. The knowledge kept rolling through his brain, but Cale was having trouble wrapping his mind around it. He’d finally met his life mate. After all these centuries, he would have a life mate. He need no longer be alone. He would be mated.
    Nope, Cale thought on a small sigh, no matter how he presented it to himself, his brain appeared numb and unable to take it in.
    “Or I suppose you’re used to the French term mis en place,” Alex added, drawing his attention again.
    Cale nodded stiffly.
    “Really, as head chef you’ll no doubt be all over the kitchen,” Alex went on, turning stiffly away from him to wave over the area she’d led him to. “But this is where you’ll mostly be working when you aren’t riding herd on the others.”
    Cale managed another stiff nod when she glanced back at him and tried to look like he knew what she was talking about, but his gaze slid blindly over the gleaming metal services before him, his mind taken up with the litany running through his head. Life mate. Life mate. Life mate.
    “This is a small enough operation that the head chef does triple duty, acting as the saucier and fish chef as well,” Alex explained almost apologetically. “That’s what you call the sauté chef and poissonnier in France.”
    Cale pursed his lips and nodded again, her words not really making it past his thoughts about spending eternity with her.
    “As I mentioned, Bev is the sous-chef, your right hand. Go to her if you have any questions. But she too does triple duty and takes on the jobs of roast chef and grill chef or what the French call the rôtisseur and grillardin .”
    “Grillardin,” Cale echoed, managing a nod for the attractive redhead named Bev when she glanced over to smile at him curiously.
    “And then Bobby over there is the vegetable chef and roundsman, the entremetier and tournant,” Alex added, apparently translating it to French out of concern that he might not know the English terms. She needn’t have worried—he didn’t understand the French ones either.
    While Cale knew what the words themselves meant, he wasn’t sure what it