I need to go back to my husband.”“Look in my eyes and tell me you do not feel it,” Jacques demanded.“I do not feel it!” Marguerite declared....��Look in my eyes and say that!” Jacques insisted, lifting her chin and meeting her gaze.She stared at him for several long seconds, then whispered, “I cannot.”“I was lost the moment your lips met mine. Why do you think your husband insisted that you kiss me? It was to torture me! To let me have but one taste and then deny me any more for the rest of my. This time, I only sold off what my Dad wasn't going to need for the coming year.My father knew just about every one of the big owners in the baking business. Whenever I'd get a line on a bulk purchase of a common ingredient, he'd give me the contact information for people who he knew could use a large quantity of it. Almost to a man, these other bakers trusted each other more than they trusted ingredient suppliers. Everyone remembered being held up because of some jobber induced, artificially. More

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