Excerpts

Eliza's Gateau from Seduction By Chocolate...

Upon discovering a box of chocolates, apparently abandoned...

Reality briefly intruded in her mind, shouldering aside the hunger. Surely no one would abandon such a treasure on a train? Eliza half stood, peering over the tops of the seats at the rest of the train car. There was no one moving about, no one who looked as if her heart were breaking for loss of chocolates.

She sat down again, the box heavy in her lap, and considered the royal blue bow with its satin sheen, and the gold paper seal beneath it, unbroken. Her stomach gave a loud, gurgling groan, twisting itself in agony, and suddenly she heard the voice of Sister Agnes of the Immaculate Conception, her supervisor at Sacred Heart Hospital, chiding her in her head.

“Nourishment, Eliza. The body’s first need is nourishment. One does not nourish the body with chips, cupcakes, and candy bars.”

But I don’t have anything healthy to eat, Eliza silently protested. And I missed both breakfast and lunch. It’s not good to fast.

“You have an energy bar in your bag,” Sister Agnes said. “A dietician should know better than to even consider a box of chocolates as her first meal of the day.”

The energy bar tastes like gummy sawdust.

“Eliza! Take your hand off that ribbon!”

Sugars and fats are a part of the food pyramid.

“A very small part, Eliza. Eliza!”

Eliza shut out the chastising voice as she pulled loose the ribbon, broke through the seal, and lifted the flaps, the first, luscious scent of chocolate wafting up to entrance her. “O brave new world,” she whispered in awe, feeling like Miranda in “The Tempest” at her first sight of men, “That has such chocolates in’t.”

Her mouth watered as her shaking hand reached into the box and lifted out a piece of dark chocolate the shape of a marquise-cut diamond, each facet a glossy plane of bittersweet. She spared one last glance for the aisle, and for the approach of an irate owner, but no one appeared.

“Thank you,” she said to whatever angelic forces had provided the box, and bit down.

It was like no chocolate she had ever tasted. Rich, smooth, the flavor filling her mouth as the chocolate dissolved, melting cleanly away. The inside of the chocolate gem was a softer, truffle-like filling, with a faint taste of some unidentifiable spice to it.

She opened her eyes, surprised that she had closed them, surprised as well that she had already eaten the second half of the gem. Her stomach, having finally been set free of its fast, cried out for more.

A milk-chocolate piece came next, its center flavored with something alcoholic. There was another dark piece, whose flavor reminded her vaguely of tea. Three, four, five more pieces went down, each one making her senses cry out in joy. One of white chocolate, with a candied violet pressed gently to its top. She almost hated to eat it, it was so pretty. Down it went.

She picked out another of dark chocolate, and this time when she bit down was surprised by a liquid center. Kirsch dribbled onto her chin and over her hand, and she quickly shoved the rest of the piece into her mouth, filling her cheeks with brandied cherry and chocolate.

This was nothing like Grandma’s chocolate covered cherries. This one had the bite of real alcohol, the fumes filling her throat and nose, making her eyes water. She gave a little huffing cough and tried to chew, holding her sticky hand away from her dress.

“Non!” a deep, angry male voice said.

Eliza jerked her head towards the aisle, and the furious man standing there. “Aaa!” she cried around her mouthful, and then felt a piece of cherry lodge in her throat. She slapped her sticky hand over her mouth as she started to cough, bending forward over the box, crunching it in her lap as she faced the floor, hacking, her face beginning to flame, a sweat of horror breaking out over her skin as he angrily scolded her in French, too quickly for her to understand.

“You Americans,” he said at last, switching to English. “You are American? Yes?”

She felt him tug on the box, squished between her torso and her thighs. Oh lord, oh good god, this was not happening. She should have listened to Sister Agnes. Her back shook as she continued to cough, bits of chocolate hitting her palm.

She could feel the man looming over her. He had the looks of James Bond, dark haired, beautifully dressed. She heaved again, and the bit of cherry finally came loose.

She felt another tug on the box, and as she sat up the man pulled the crushed ballotin off her lap. She wiped at her mouth with shaking fingertips, and slanted a look up at him.

He stood with the box in his hands, peering into it, his face a mask of disbelief.

“You ate all but three? All but three?” he said in perfect, lightly accented English. “I was not gone more than ten minutes. How did you even have time?” His unbelieving gaze went from the decimated remains to her face.

Definitely James Bond, and with deep, sapphire blue eyes. Her stomach sank through her gut. They had been evil forces that left those chocolates on the seat before her, evil! Angels had nothing to do with it.