How is it possible for the chemistry between two chefs to be hotter than a ghost pepper yet colder than liquid nitrogen? When THE Tatum Elliott shows up to run the catering kitchen at my family's farm and event center, I don't trust her any more than I did back in culinary school. But like it or not, she's here. On my territory. My turf. In the kitchen that shares a building with my farm-to-table restaurant. And she can't seem to keep her hands off my parmesan. Our old rivalry flares to life faster than a flambe, but there's something else flaming between us too. And it's heating up quicker than anything we're making in the kitchen. But I can't forget that Tatum is the daughter of Christopher Elliott-America's most famous chef. She belongs in a big city, in a restaurant with her name on it. Not running the catering arm of Stonebrook Farm. Whatever her reasons for being here now, I can't see her permanently walking away from the fame and fortune her father can offer her, no matter how well she fits in on the farm-how well she fits with me. She'll leave eventually-I'm sure of it. I just have to make sure that when she does, she doesn't take my heart with her.