Recipe for Love (3 page)

She put a hand on his chest as if to push him away, but it merely rested between them over his wildly beating heart, while shook her head as if trying to clear it. “I may have given you the wrong impression.”

Following his instincts, he licked the exposed curve of her neck and felt her shudder with pleasure against him. Desire for her swept away the last of his resolve. He was a man who believed in following his passions. And tonight, there was only this one woman and his need for her. “I don’t care about why you’re here. All I care about is this.” He claimed her mouth with all the passion building within him and loved how her tongue met his eagerly.

***

Holy Moly.

Nothing in Madison’s sexual past had prepared her for the instant attraction she’d felt when Richard had stepped out of the darkness. A few inches over six feet with a deliciously muscled body, he was definitely not what she’d been expecting. Now, moments after meeting him, she was kissing him more intimately than she’d ever kissed one of her boyfriends. His hands cupped her buttocks and held her firmly against him. She should be afraid.
Throw-all-decorum-to-the-wind lust doesn’t happen outside of the movies, does it? And if it does, you should at least know the other person. So this is what happens when you wear see-through thongs.

So much for him not noticing I’m here.

Maddy’s desire surged. She arched backward to allow him access to her shoulder. Nothing mattered except the heat that was spreading through her and the need to be closer to him. He trailed kisses across her exposed collarbone and she arched even farther back, desperately wanting to feel those hot kisses farther down. Her nipples tightened and begged for his attention.

I’m not the kind of woman who has a one-night stand.

Any stand, for that matter.

Maddy shivered with desire when Richard cupped one of her breasts in his hand. His thumb caressed and teased. His breath warmed her as his mouth replaced his hand. He suckled her, his hot, wet tongue circling her. She felt the gentle tug all the way down through her stomach. Her body readied itself for him, pulsing and tingling.

How can a bad idea feel so good?
Every place he touched burned for him. Every place he didn’t yearned for him.
I should stop now before this gets out of control.

If it’s not already.

As if he could hear her inner debate, Richard raised his head. His eyes were ablaze with desire for her, but his voice was soft. “What is it?”

What is it not? I’ve left everything I know behind to shack up with a stranger and, instead of locking my door and seeking a way to make a dangerous choice safer, I’m seriously considering throwing my moral compass in the trash.

“I’m a virgin,” she blurted.

He gripped her by both upper arms and demanded, “A what?”

Embarrassment flooded in and she tried to pull away from him.
“You heard me.”

Richard’s hands tightened on her arms painfully. “Are you joking?”

I wish I were.

Richard bent, lifted the blanket off the floor, and tossed it at her. He was saying something angrily in French, and for once she wished she’d paid attention to her language tutors.
Although when they said I’d need the skill someday, I’m sure they never imagined this scenario.
“A minute ago you didn’t care who I’d slept with. Why does it matter if I haven’t been with anyone?”

Have I lost my mind? Am I actually arguing for him to continue pawing me?

He paced in front of her, running his hands through his hair and cursing in French. She had no problem translating most of that. Some profanity is universal. He grabbed her by an arm again and swung her to face him. “I don’t sleep with virgins.”

“Fine,” she said and wanted to kick herself for sounding less and less mature with every word that came out of her mouth. She tried, unsuccessfully, to pull her arm free from him.

He stood in front of her, close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his angry glare with one of her own. “What about your
lover?
Did he expect something in return for supporting you? Is that why you left him?”

Still feeling a bit raw from his refusal, Maddy snapped, “This isn’t about a man.”

“So, you lied to my sister?”

Oh, yeah, that.
“She assumed that was why I looked upset. I just didn’t correct her.”
Because apparently lying runs in my family.

“Are you in trouble with the law?”

Maddy almost laughed, until she realized he wasn’t kidding. “No, but I needed to find someplace where I could think.”

“And you thought you could do that here?”

She raised her chin defiantly. “You were supposed to be short and fat.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, as if her comment amused him despite his annoyance. As he continued to look at her, his expression changed, and with unexpected compassion he asked, “Did someone hurt you?”

The question threw her. They had, but not in the way she knew he thought. It was too complicated, and the details could potentially hurt her family if they went public, so she merely shook her head.

He didn’t believe her. He rubbed a hand roughly over his face as if trying to clear his thoughts. “You don’t have to lie to me. You’re safe here.”

“Am I?” she asked hoarsely. They both knew what she was asking.

With his features set in harsh, cold lines, he said, “It was a kiss. People do more on the dance floor after a few drinks.”

Where do you dance?
Maddy thought as a gurgle of nervous laughter bubbled in her throat. “I should probably still go.”

“I told you you’re safe here. Nothing further is going to happen between us.”

“Because I’m a virgin?”

He growled something in French beneath his breath. “
Oui,
and too young for me.”

Let it go,
the voice of reason in her pleaded, but she couldn’t. “You’re not much older than I am.”

“In years, perhaps not. In experience, we couldn’t be more different. Sex to me is like a good meal, pleasant but not necessarily best always served from the same cook. Could you handle that?”

“No.”

“That,
ma puce,
is why you are perfectly safe here tonight.” He turned and headed toward the door of the suite.

Maddy doubted that, after he’d walked out, she’d ever see him again. Despite their verbal clashes, the thought made her a bit sad.
What do you say to someone who just made a decision you should have—one you would have if you weren’t so angry with the world that a dose of danger felt good?
“Richard,” she called out to him softly, and he stopped. “Thank you.”

He turned slowly and leaned against the doorjamb, watching her cautiously, “It’s not a problem.” Then he smiled a bit playfully and, in a beautifully sexy French drawl, said, “Well, it was less a problem before I saw those beautiful breasts of yours. But it’s nothing a cold shower won’t fix.”

The connection they’d felt earlier deepened when she smiled at his joke and he smiled back. There was more intimacy in that moment than there’d been in kissing and ripping at each other’s clothing. It shook Maddy. She didn’t want him to leave, but she wasn’t brave enough to ask him to stay. “I should have been honest with your sister. I’m here because I quarreled with my father. Have you ever been put in a situation where you have to do something, but no matter what you do, you know nothing will ever be the same?”

His expression darkened with the pain of some memory. “
Oui.
”

“What did you do?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“What I had to, and then I walked away.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

The sincerity in her voice seemed to touch a cord in him. He straightened from the wall and said, “It looks like you already did.”

“I’m so confused,” she admitted hoarsely.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her gently on one cheek. “You and I both,
ma puce,
I will not sleep easily tonight.”

He spun and left with the cat following at his heels.

Maddy groaned and, picking up her tablet, walked alone into the guest bedroom. She slid under the covers of the bed, still clutching the device, which she didn’t turn on.
I doubt there is a book on there that could make me forget that I almost gave my virginity to the first sexy Frenchman I met, only to be refused like I’d offered him a case of the measles.
She set the tablet on the night table, flipped the light off, and stared at the dark ceiling above.
Is he lying in his bed imagining what it would have been like between us? Not that I want to be just another meal he enjoyed and then forgot.
She closed her eyes and remembered how her body had responded to his touch. Her skin still tingled at the memory.

Sex is supposed mean something.

A hot night with a complete stranger would have been wrong.

She rolled onto her side and hugged one of the pillows to her chest.

Or it would have been heaven.

Early the next evening, Richard paused from issuing orders to his kitchen staff to throw a sheet pan in the dish pit with enough force that the sound echoed throughout the room and caused a momentary halt in activity. With a glare, he set his workers back on task. They knew better than to joke with him when he was in a mood.

Yes, he held them to impossibly high standards, but he didn’t ask them to give any more than he gave of himself each day: everything.

He was an artist, not a cook. He fed people’s souls, the same way a painter or musician would. The world could survive without art or gourmet food, but who would want to live in such a world? He was driven to create dishes that would be remembered long after they were experienced. It was an obsession—until today.

The only thing worse than spending the day distracted by the thought of Madison in his house was the thought that she might no longer be there.

Memories of her tight body outlined by the light of a side lamp brought him to an uncomfortable level of arousal. And those eyes.
Mon Dieu,
those chocolate eyes—flashing with anger, melting with desire, while she offered herself to him.

An offer I turned down.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from returning to his houseguest and their short encounter. He’d formed an opinion of her before they’d met and had been set to dislike her. Instead, he found himself fascinated, and not just sexually.

She was in his thoughts, his blood, an itch that could not be denied.

And all I did was kiss her.

I don’t even know her last name.

If she left, I’d never be able to find her.

That thought was enough to have him striding over to Bertrand. Even though the restaurant was closing early that day, he couldn’t wait a moment longer. “I’ll be at my house if you need me, but only call if you’ve lit the place on fire.”

His sous-chef was so surprised that he asked a question he already knew the answer to. “Y-you’re leaving?”

Richard imagined Madison as he’d found her, lying on the couch, and hastily discarded his chef coat. Bertrand was perfectly capable of running the kitchen—even if it was the first time he’d been asked to do so. Richard had never been one to second-guess his decisions and was not about to start now. “I am.”

“Are you ill?” Bertrand asked with real concern.

“No. I have something at my house that requires my attention.”

Bertrand shook his head in confusion and said, “In all the years we’ve worked together, I’ve never seen you leave early. You don’t celebrate the holidays. Is it your sister? Is Alyson okay?”

“Everyone is fine,” Richard said impatiently. “I just have to go.”

Bertrand persisted, “You know, we’re business partners, but we’re also friends. If you need help, let me know.”

“I probably need psychiatric help, but tonight just worry about the restaurant.”

A slow, understanding smile spread across the older man’s face. “Only a woman could make a man that crazy.”

“Just close the restaurant tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Or not,” Bertrand said happily. “Take your time. I’m perfectly capable of running this place without you for a few days.”

Richard opened his mouth to say he’d be back early in the morning as usual, but if everything worked out the way he wanted it to, he wasn’t sure he would be. So he kept his thoughts to himself and headed toward the door. Bertrand clapped his hands loudly and, in a tone much like Richard would have used, put the kitchen staff back on task.

Richard exceeded the speed limit on all the roads that separated him from the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. On the way he rehearsed how he would tell Madison that he’d changed his stance on virginity.

***

Right, left, then another left after the farmhouse. Or was it left, right, then left at the farmhouse? Shit.
Maddy stood at an intersection, wishing she’d paid more attention on the way into the small town near Richard’s house. Her arms were aching from the weight of the bags she’d filled with Christmas decorations.

When she’d decided to head into town and pick up a few holiday items to surprise Richard, it had seemed like a good idea. However, getting lost outside the town near his house added an almost comically ridiculous element to the day.

Would it kill this town to have a taxi service? Not that it would have helped much because I can’t remember his exact address.

Yes, please drop me off at the large stone mansion on the hill. Oh, all the mansions in this area are stone and seem to be on hills? Well then, how about the one owned by a hot French chef? There can’t be many like him around.

Name? Richard.

Last name? Oh, I forgot to ask. Sure, I almost slept with him without that knowledge, but it would be helpful to know it now.

Or even the name of his restaurant.

No wonder Gino thinks I can’t survive on my own. I feel like a five-year-old who should have worn a tag to help people return her home if she got lost.

Home.

Maybe that’s where I belong. Maybe my father is right. Maybe if I grow up I’ll understand why my family made the decisions it did.

I should call Gino and tell him to pick me up. Hard to ever truly be lost in the world of technology and GPS tracking. The moment I turn on my cell phone he’ll find me. He’s probably still in the local area looking for me. He’d never leave me. That used to make me feel safe. Now I feel cornered.

Choosing a direction, Maddy set off walking down a side road, regretting again that she wasn’t wearing practical walking shoes. Her suede high heels were comfortable for a short stroll, but this was becoming a several-mile hike. She was dressed in black corduroy pants, an ivory loose-fitting sweater, and her jacket, and yet the wind blew right through the layers and chilled her skin. Along with the fading sunshine, the temperature was quickly dropping.

Nothing looked familiar, and her frustration was growing. At any other time in her life, she would have called her mother for advice, but she’d made that option impossible. She saw now that she should have spoken to her mother before leaving, but she’d been angry, and the anger had made her impulsive. Her mother must have known about Uncle Vic’s lie. She’d probably known for years and done nothing. Maddy had always thought that she and her mother told each other everything. She’d been wrong.

Is that why I felt ready to toss my virginity to the wind? Do I want to hurt my family like they hurt me?

She remembered the feeling of Richard’s lips on her body and blushed as her skin tingled in memory.
No, it was more than that.

Although she was uncertain about how to deal with her family, she knew exactly why she was waiting for Richard to come home.
I’ve never felt anything like what I felt last night, I want to feel that again. I have to know if his kisses really are as good as I thought they were. Was my heart beating wildly the whole time we spoke because he’d woken me with a start or because our attraction was that strong?

What would have happened if I hadn’t blurted out my lack of experience? Does it matter? Will I ever find out?

The street ended in a driveway. Maddy cursed and waved a hand angrily at the waning late-day sun. She dropped the bags at her feet, hugged her thin coat to her, and shivered. As the sun slipped below the tree line she took out her phone and turned it on. She didn’t need to call Gino. She’d known him long enough to be certain that he’d stayed nearby and would be there soon.

As she walked, she grumbled toward the sky, “You win. This was ridiculous from the beginning. It’s time to go home.”