Feel the Heat (Hot In the Kitchen) (21 page)

She opened her mouth and he gave her the hand. The hand!

“—or you hadn’t provoked me into kissing you in a public bar with half of Chicago watching or I hadn’t spent every moment since I met you imagining you naked”—he paused to take a breath and she matched him—“your life would have been just fine.”

She snapped her jaw shut, shocked at how he had reduced the last forty-eight hours to its essence like one of his sauces. But the take-home was clear. She was just as much to blame. In his immediate orbit, she had no control, so the sooner she escaped this magnetic pull he had over her, the sooner she could get back to her just-fine life.

“Yes, it would have been, and once you leave—” She turned up a shaky palm in query.

“Day after tomorrow.”

So soon?
A burning, tight band of steel wrapped around her chest. Somewhere along the pause, he had moved in, putting oxygen at a premium. Butterflies took flight in her belly. “Day after tomorrow, I’ll be fine again.”

“Fine,” he said, his face now so close she could lick her lips and simultaneously swipe his hard, angular jaw.

“So fi—”

Before she could finish, his mouth fitted over hers. It was that easy. Her eyes shuttered on his kiss and in no time at all, his sweet assault became more sure. He followed her Twitter rep’s advice and played glorious grab-ass with her notorious booty. Oh, she loved how he made her feel. So beautiful, so sexy, but also special. His intimate taste enveloped her until it was only him and her heart, now beating wildly.

Stay,
she urged with her tongue as she mapped his mouth.
I’ll be anything you want, everything I can.
Her fingers licked the nape of his neck and they both shivered.
Hold me,
she spoke with her hands.
I want to wake up to your warm laugh tickling my ear.
The kiss deepened and curled inside her, finding private and untouched places.
Love me,
she thought as her breath mingled with his.
I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Knowing her pleas would go unheard, she took from it everything she needed to tide her over for the long night ahead. At last, he released her with a soft “damn,” and they retreated to scant inches apart, a little dazed, a lot dissatisfied.

Neither of them moved for several seconds.

Then the edge of his mouth lifted in…was that cockiness? “Now, don’t you think the finer things in life are worth fighting for, sweetheart?”

He wasn’t giving up! This tenacious, infuriating, beautiful man wasn’t giving up, but there was no missing the underlying dare in his tone. If she wanted this, she had to woman up.

Like a sleepwalker, she shuffled back and shut the door. Through the spy hole, she watched him linger, his expression half swallowed by the shadow in the dimly lit hallway. She knew he was smiling because she was smiling, and if any kiss deserved a joyful reaction, it was that one.

It didn’t last. Well, it couldn’t, could it? Smile vanishing, she sank to the floor, her body a spineless mess, her stomach knotted so tight it hurt. The challenge had been thrown down; the choice was a minefield. She could get what she wanted and lose him, or give him what he wanted and lose her heart. Either way, it was going to be wonderful.

And then it was going to suck.

Chapter Thirteen

It’s me-ee.” Through the intercom, Cara sounded more shrill than usual, or maybe it was just the indecent hour that made her voice resemble a velociraptor giving birth. She breezed in. Eyes bright and perfectly lined. Check. Killer gams tapering to four-inch Manolos. Check. Blond chignon à la Grace Kelly. Check.

Chilled, chocolaty, caffeinated beverage, which she handed off to a grateful Lili. Check.

After making a five-course meal out of surveying Lili’s apartment, with its mismatched thrift-shop furniture and cluttered art arrangements, she delivered a love-what-you’ve-done-with-the-place simper. They settled in at the kitchen table, last night’s scene of the crime. Lili suppressed a yawn. Her sleep had been restless, her dreams steamy and all Jack.

“So, how famous are you today?” Cara asked.

Lili was beginning to think she had some sort of self-obsession disorder. Wake up. Shower. Google herself. How did famous people ever get anything done when there was so much being said about them online?

“Shona Love, the entertainment reporter for Channel Five, wants to interview me.”

Cara frowned. “Probably not a good idea. If she calls again, direct her to me. Let’s keep this about the show. Anything else?”

Lili sighed heavily. “My Twitter stand-in, FatChicksAss, says it hears beeping every time it backs up. But on the plus side, I’m getting plenty of offers on the Facebook fan page Gina created.”

Cara’s lovely pout stretched to a grimace. “Do I want to know?”

“Apparently I have a great future in carnie-themed pornos. Fat ladies and Siamese twins.”

“Is that even a thing?”

Lili sighed. “Jack says I shouldn’t read it.”

“Well, he’s right.” Cara giggled, all sugary wickedness, and leaned in, ready for confidences. “Now spill. I want to hear every smutty detail. Is he as good as he looks?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Cara’s mouth dropped open in a most unbecoming way, which pleased Lili much more than it should have. Ah, the little things.

“Shut. Up. What about all that malarkey in the hotel?”

“He was just kidding around. We never did anything.”

Her sister pursed her lips like a prim schoolteacher, contemplating this revelation. “Did you try to be funny? Guys don’t like girls who are too funny.”

“Oh, he found my seduction attempts to be the height of hilarity.”

Cara had a multitude of rules for dating—don’t make stupid jokes, never pay for a meal or finish said meal, and don’t put out for anyone who makes less than $500K a year—which probably accounted for the fact that her love life was about as successful as Lili’s.

Her sister huffed out a disapproving gust of air and eyed Lili’s hair as if it were the culprit. “The girls are going to the salon to get all gussied up before the show. Maybe you should go. Gina wants to get vajazzled.”

A mouthful of coffee trickled into Lili’s lungs, and she spluttered to recover. “You’d better not let her. She’ll need to show everybody, and your cameraman will have to gouge his poor eyes out.”

“Oh, nothing throws Jerry. But I won’t have time to babysit them with all the prep I have to do. The production crew is already downstairs, I’ve got the menus to finish, and I have a million other things to sort out.”

“I can take care of the girls. Just tell me what else you need.” Lili’s stomach growled and her mind replied,
Leftovers
. Veal parm for breakfast might not be acceptable in other cultures, but it was more than acceptable in the DeLucas’. “Is Jack at the restaurant yet?” she asked oh-so-casually.

“He went to the meat supplier with Dad. Speaking of Il Duce…”

“What about him?”

Lili could see Cara picking her words carefully. “He seems even more dictatorial than usual, if that’s possible. I don’t know why you put up with it.”

So you don’t have to.
“He’s worried about the restaurant.”

“Is it really so bad?”

“It’s not good. I mean, the show should help and all the current drama is good for reservations, but that can’t last.”

“Could we borrow money?”

Lili smiled at the cozy use of
we
. Nice to know Cara wanted to include herself in the family’s crisis. At least this one.

“No go. We remortgaged the house three years ago, but we’re still losing hand over fist. That’s not the solution, anyway. We need to make changes, redesign the menu, appeal to a more diverse customer base.” Lili stood and wrenched open the fridge door. A solitary fat-free yogurt cut a lonely figure on the bottom shelf. “Dad’s clinging to a way of doing business that died out with Betamax. Cooking for the same few customers who show up like clockwork once a month. He thinks if we change anything, we’ll lose them.”

“Well, business was never his forte, Lili. Food’s his religion. When we were growing up, it sometimes felt like he was chef first, father second.”

Startled, Lili turned back to her sister. That was a curious way to put it together. “Food’s important to him. Like any chef.”

Cara shrugged. “Remember when Dad was worried about something, we would wake up to find the kitchen full of meals he’d worked on all night? Lasagna and chicken cacciatore as far as the eye could see. You know how he is—cooking is his touchstone; the kitchen is his cathedral…Hey, I need to write that shit down. That’s going to sound great in publicity for Jack’s new show.” She extracted her phone from a slouchy red hobo and started tapping.

Lili had completely forgotten about Tony’s all-nighters when he was upset. That cooking allowed him some measure of power over a life that had spun out of control when Mom became ill made a strange kind of sense. She’d always thought she could read him, but Cara’s keen insight surprised her. Didn’t sit so well, either.

“And he’s worried about Mom,” Lili continued, getting back to familiar territory. “Her checkup is next week.” Three months cancer free if everything went well. Cara probably had a gift basket ready for distribution.

“About Mom.” Cara’s voice wavered as she placed her phone down on the table. “I know I suck.”

Oh hell. Lili squeezed her sister’s shoulder, immediately feeling guilty about the snide thoughts twisting her brain. She never used to be this bitter. Envious that Cara had got away, but not bitter. “Cara, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. When Mom first got sick, it was tough, but when she started the treatments, it near killed me. I know I haven’t been there for you, but I just can’t handle seeing her like that. All skin and bone. No hair. It’s incredibly selfish, but…I don’t know how to explain it.” Cara’s voice hitched high in her throat.

Hearing Cara describing her reaction slammed Lili’s heart to the back of her rib cage. It also felt like she wasn’t getting the whole story. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“I don’t know. Every time we spoke on the phone, I could feel this judgment coming off you in waves. Or maybe it was my terrible phone service. Freaking AT&T.” She laughed, but it got snagged on a sniffle. “And I didn’t know what to say when you were doing all the work.”

Recognition welled up in her throat as Cara’s words fisted Lili’s heart. Maybe she’d been enjoying the view from up on her high horse a little too much. And not just with her sister.

Cara’s eyes met Lili’s, so blue and stunning. “Sis, you’ve always been the strong one. When we were little, nothing fazed you. Remember when you broke your leg after you climbed into that tree because Tad dared you?”

“I couldn’t do anything for weeks. Worst summer ever.” Lili sat again, her hollow stomach forgotten. “And you fainted.” Cara had earned as much attention for hitting the deck in a swoon as Lili had for breaking her leg in two places.

“You didn’t even cry. You just lay there quietly waiting for Dad to take you to the ER.” Cara wagged her finger. “And I fainted because your bone was poking out and it looked like something out of
Alien
.” Even now, her sister’s face turned chalky at the gruesome memory.

Lili gave what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. “We’re just different.”

“I know you think I’m a princess.”

“Well, you are.”

“All right, I am,” Cara said, stubborn chin up. “But I still think you’re the most beautiful, kick-ass person I know.”

Guilt and regret fought for space in Lili’s chest as she was reminded of how they used to be friends. She longed for that closeness once more, and making a joke seemed as good a way as any of finding the way back there.

“So, throwing me at your boss was your version of penance?”

“Seemed like a good idea but…” She gave Lili a half-smile, Cara style. “Forget about Jack.”

Say what, now?
Lili’s mouth went slack-jawed, shaken by the brusque declaration.

“I’m beginning to think it’s for the best nothing happened. I should never have encouraged it.”

“I know he’s out of my league.”

“That’s not it.”

Lili readied for the worst. He frequents swinger clubs or his tastes stretch to weird, New York–style kink. Or any style kink. The tabloids had been long on innuendo and short on cold, hard facts.

Cara raised both perfectly plucked eyebrows. “You’re not out of his league. He’s out of yours.”

Oh…say double what, now?
“Why would you think that?”

Cara shot Lili through with that know-it-all look she brandished like a weapon, and Lili braced for one of her “here’s how it works in the real world” speeches. “Jack’s hotter than a jalapeño and he’s got charm up the yin yang, but there’s no depth there. All he cares about is cooking and fucking. He’s good enough for a one-night stand, but don’t rely on him for anything long-term. He’ll break your heart.”

All that time working with Jack, and Cara hadn’t learned a single thing. She had bought into his media image just like everyone else. Just like Lili had at first. Within minutes of meeting him, she had smirked her disapproval and called him awful names because she’d thought herself so above him and his trivial existence. She had always considered herself a giving person. An unselfish person. But last night, Jack had given and she had taken, proving herself no different than the vultures who wanted a piece of him.