Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me
Page 38
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
She expected Jack to laugh at the joke. But he didn't. She took in Larry's earnest expression again and realized he might be serious.
"I've never fired anyone over a woman;' Jack said. "But if I had to ... " He let his words fall away, but the threat was obvious.
Rose's mouth fell open. Were they actually fighting over her?
God knew she didn't want to come between two men who were close friends as well as coworkers. But she'd be lying if she didn't admit to a slight thrill at the fact that two very sexy men were about to come to blows. Over her.
Fortunately, Larry heeded Jack's warning. He put his hands up in surrender-the effect of which was a little lost given the ten inch chef's knife in his left hand-and said, ''As long as she's happy with you, Boss, I'm happy' Turning back to Rose, he added with a wink, "But you know where to go if he ever treats you wrong' With that he headed back over to the large tri-tip he was slicing into thin slivers. Several other people in the kitchen waved their hellos, but Jack's possessive behavior had made them wary. He'd threatened to fire his sous-chef over her. Who knew what crazy stunt he'd pull next in the name of lust?
Because Rose knew that's what was driving him. As Vanessa always said, most guys thought a hard dick meant true love.
Jack's words broke into her cynical musings. "I'll give Hilary a call. She and the photographer can watch us make lunch." He leaned over and whispered the rest in her ear. ''And then you're mine until tomorrow afternoon. No interruptions:' His seductive tone left no question in Rose's mind as to what he had planned. Frankly, she was already painfully aroused and couldn't wait to be alone with Jack to have her very naughty way with him. Again. She was perfectly happy keeping the safe, quiet Rose locked up for another day. The real world would intrude soon enough.
NINE
HILARY AND HER CREW arrived ten minutes later, and the kitchen grew loud and bright as they set up the lights. "Maybe I should change?" Rose said, but Jack shook his head. "You're dressed perfectly' he said, and he meant it. But at the same time, he had other reasons for wanting her to remain in her adorably laidback outfit. He wanted to get this cooking lesson and photo shoot done with as quickly as possible. His time with Rose was running out, and every minute counted.
Plus, he couldn't wait to slide his palms up her T-shirt later tonight. His gut told him there was something lacy beneath the "denim. Just thinking about her panties-slipping them off her thighs, past her calves, over her perfect feet-made him ridiculously hard.
Food. He needed to concentrate on food. And then he could focus exclusively on Rose. "Spaghetti in red wine' he said. "A classic wine country dish' The cameras were already flashing as he handed Rose an apron and donned one himself. She wasn't looking him in the eye anymore-he guessed it was because she was afraid that the camera would see the emotions they couldn't hide-but Jack refused to stand for it.
"Stand here, next to me," he instructed Rose in a business-only voice. She moved closer and he said, ''I'm going to teach you how to chop parsley:'
He put his hand on hers and she pulled away. "I know how to chop;' she said.
Instead of arguing with her, he placed his hand on hers again, more firmly this time, and after laying several parsley leaves on the . clean cutting board, he forced their hands to become one, deftly chopping the herb into minuscule pieces. He'd never thought the aroma of parsley was a turn-on before, but then again, he'd never done it with Rose before either.
Even surrounded by a dozen people, as they worked chopping herbs, grating farm-fresh Parmesan, adding garlic, prosciutto and pepper flakes to the heating olive oil, it was as if there was no one else in the room. Fifteen minutes later their meal was prepared, and Jack could have sworn that Rose had forgotten all about the cameras, all about Hilary. It was one of the many things he loved about her:
She gave her all, all of the time.
Hilary took a bite of the dish and gasped with pleasure. "Oh my gosh, this is wonderful, Rose!" She fanned herself. "I don't know if it's the pepper flakes or the heat from the stoves, but I am burning up:' Rose smiled at Jack, a secret, wicked smile. They both knew why the kitchen was so hot. And it had nothing to do with peppers or hot ovens. Sparks flew when they were together.
"I think we've got enough shots," Hilary said as she nodded to her photographer to pack up his lights and equipment. Shaking Rose's hand, she said, "Enjoy the rest of your lessons with Jack. He's a very talented teacher' Rose's face flamed and, again, Jack knew what she was thinking. Little did she know that she'd taught him a few things and not the other way around. "If you don't mind, I'd like to give you a call on Monday to do a little interview about the experience:'
"Sure. Great' Rose said.
Jack waited until Hilary and her crew had left before asking
Larry, "You guys got it covered here without me tonight?"
He filled the sink to wash the pots and pans he and Rose had used for the cooking demonstration. Larry grunted without looking up from the veal he was beating with a wooden mallet into thin, tender cutlets. Not that Jack would have hung around if they had needed him. For once, his restaurant was going to have to run-and run well-without him.
The thought stilled his hands. Never had he thought to value anything more than his food, his restaurant. When he'd imagined himself with a wife and kids, they'd always been fuzzy, existing , somewhere in the background of his hectic life.
Meeting Rose had changed everything. To his utter surprise he found that he wasn't upset by this profound shift of priorities. If the was lucky enough to have her in his life, she would always l' come first, far above his restaurant, his cooking show, his book .' tours, and everything else that made up the daily life of a famous chef. And yet, at the same time, he knew Rose would be his greatest supporter and that his best ideas would be inspired by her.
He stopped his runaway thoughts to acknowledge the fact that neither of them had spoken of the future, of love. Yet. But that didn't change how he felt. And he was confident that everything would work out, even if they'd only met twenty-four hours ago. "Leave the rest;' he said. When she ignored him and continued to scrub at a spatula, saying, "I got 'em dirty, so I'm cleaning them up; he couldn't help but grin. Ah, yes, she was most certainly the woman for him.
He dug into the dirty dishes with renewed gusto. He'd have to remember to send Hilary a very expensive bouquet of flowers for bringing Rose Morgan into his life.
SATURDAY AFTERNOON WENT FROM PERFECT TO GLORIOUS and back again. The sun was shining, the sky was a bright, piercing blue, and Rose was falling harder and harder for her private Napa tour guide. Hopping on the bicycles in his garage, they rode to wineries--owned by his friends, of course-and were plied with the best Pinots and Chardonnays and Cabernets she'd ever tasted. As soon as the vintners saw Jack walking in the door, they opened their private label bottles, wines that would have sold for hundreds of dollars in San Francisco restaurants. Just when she began to feel overly tipsy, they headed to a gorgeous red barn in the middle of a field of cows and goats, laid out a blanket and feasted on mouthwatering goat cheese, pepper sausage, and French bread.
"I've never fired anyone over a woman;' Jack said. "But if I had to ... " He let his words fall away, but the threat was obvious.
Rose's mouth fell open. Were they actually fighting over her?
God knew she didn't want to come between two men who were close friends as well as coworkers. But she'd be lying if she didn't admit to a slight thrill at the fact that two very sexy men were about to come to blows. Over her.
Fortunately, Larry heeded Jack's warning. He put his hands up in surrender-the effect of which was a little lost given the ten inch chef's knife in his left hand-and said, ''As long as she's happy with you, Boss, I'm happy' Turning back to Rose, he added with a wink, "But you know where to go if he ever treats you wrong' With that he headed back over to the large tri-tip he was slicing into thin slivers. Several other people in the kitchen waved their hellos, but Jack's possessive behavior had made them wary. He'd threatened to fire his sous-chef over her. Who knew what crazy stunt he'd pull next in the name of lust?
Because Rose knew that's what was driving him. As Vanessa always said, most guys thought a hard dick meant true love.
Jack's words broke into her cynical musings. "I'll give Hilary a call. She and the photographer can watch us make lunch." He leaned over and whispered the rest in her ear. ''And then you're mine until tomorrow afternoon. No interruptions:' His seductive tone left no question in Rose's mind as to what he had planned. Frankly, she was already painfully aroused and couldn't wait to be alone with Jack to have her very naughty way with him. Again. She was perfectly happy keeping the safe, quiet Rose locked up for another day. The real world would intrude soon enough.
NINE
HILARY AND HER CREW arrived ten minutes later, and the kitchen grew loud and bright as they set up the lights. "Maybe I should change?" Rose said, but Jack shook his head. "You're dressed perfectly' he said, and he meant it. But at the same time, he had other reasons for wanting her to remain in her adorably laidback outfit. He wanted to get this cooking lesson and photo shoot done with as quickly as possible. His time with Rose was running out, and every minute counted.
Plus, he couldn't wait to slide his palms up her T-shirt later tonight. His gut told him there was something lacy beneath the "denim. Just thinking about her panties-slipping them off her thighs, past her calves, over her perfect feet-made him ridiculously hard.
Food. He needed to concentrate on food. And then he could focus exclusively on Rose. "Spaghetti in red wine' he said. "A classic wine country dish' The cameras were already flashing as he handed Rose an apron and donned one himself. She wasn't looking him in the eye anymore-he guessed it was because she was afraid that the camera would see the emotions they couldn't hide-but Jack refused to stand for it.
"Stand here, next to me," he instructed Rose in a business-only voice. She moved closer and he said, ''I'm going to teach you how to chop parsley:'
He put his hand on hers and she pulled away. "I know how to chop;' she said.
Instead of arguing with her, he placed his hand on hers again, more firmly this time, and after laying several parsley leaves on the . clean cutting board, he forced their hands to become one, deftly chopping the herb into minuscule pieces. He'd never thought the aroma of parsley was a turn-on before, but then again, he'd never done it with Rose before either.
Even surrounded by a dozen people, as they worked chopping herbs, grating farm-fresh Parmesan, adding garlic, prosciutto and pepper flakes to the heating olive oil, it was as if there was no one else in the room. Fifteen minutes later their meal was prepared, and Jack could have sworn that Rose had forgotten all about the cameras, all about Hilary. It was one of the many things he loved about her:
She gave her all, all of the time.
Hilary took a bite of the dish and gasped with pleasure. "Oh my gosh, this is wonderful, Rose!" She fanned herself. "I don't know if it's the pepper flakes or the heat from the stoves, but I am burning up:' Rose smiled at Jack, a secret, wicked smile. They both knew why the kitchen was so hot. And it had nothing to do with peppers or hot ovens. Sparks flew when they were together.
"I think we've got enough shots," Hilary said as she nodded to her photographer to pack up his lights and equipment. Shaking Rose's hand, she said, "Enjoy the rest of your lessons with Jack. He's a very talented teacher' Rose's face flamed and, again, Jack knew what she was thinking. Little did she know that she'd taught him a few things and not the other way around. "If you don't mind, I'd like to give you a call on Monday to do a little interview about the experience:'
"Sure. Great' Rose said.
Jack waited until Hilary and her crew had left before asking
Larry, "You guys got it covered here without me tonight?"
He filled the sink to wash the pots and pans he and Rose had used for the cooking demonstration. Larry grunted without looking up from the veal he was beating with a wooden mallet into thin, tender cutlets. Not that Jack would have hung around if they had needed him. For once, his restaurant was going to have to run-and run well-without him.
The thought stilled his hands. Never had he thought to value anything more than his food, his restaurant. When he'd imagined himself with a wife and kids, they'd always been fuzzy, existing , somewhere in the background of his hectic life.
Meeting Rose had changed everything. To his utter surprise he found that he wasn't upset by this profound shift of priorities. If the was lucky enough to have her in his life, she would always l' come first, far above his restaurant, his cooking show, his book .' tours, and everything else that made up the daily life of a famous chef. And yet, at the same time, he knew Rose would be his greatest supporter and that his best ideas would be inspired by her.
He stopped his runaway thoughts to acknowledge the fact that neither of them had spoken of the future, of love. Yet. But that didn't change how he felt. And he was confident that everything would work out, even if they'd only met twenty-four hours ago. "Leave the rest;' he said. When she ignored him and continued to scrub at a spatula, saying, "I got 'em dirty, so I'm cleaning them up; he couldn't help but grin. Ah, yes, she was most certainly the woman for him.
He dug into the dirty dishes with renewed gusto. He'd have to remember to send Hilary a very expensive bouquet of flowers for bringing Rose Morgan into his life.
SATURDAY AFTERNOON WENT FROM PERFECT TO GLORIOUS and back again. The sun was shining, the sky was a bright, piercing blue, and Rose was falling harder and harder for her private Napa tour guide. Hopping on the bicycles in his garage, they rode to wineries--owned by his friends, of course-and were plied with the best Pinots and Chardonnays and Cabernets she'd ever tasted. As soon as the vintners saw Jack walking in the door, they opened their private label bottles, wines that would have sold for hundreds of dollars in San Francisco restaurants. Just when she began to feel overly tipsy, they headed to a gorgeous red barn in the middle of a field of cows and goats, laid out a blanket and feasted on mouthwatering goat cheese, pepper sausage, and French bread.
