Recipe for Temptation (19 page)

She sighed heavily. “I don’t need to have experienced it to know that cheating is wrong.”

Michael frowned. “You aren’t cheating.”

“No? Then what do you call it?”

“Exploring your options.”

That wrung a grim laugh out of her. “Let’s not kid ourselves, Michael. As unforgettable as last night was, we both know it was nothing more than a one-night stand.”

“You’re wrong,” he said mildly. “By its very definition, the term ‘one-night stand’

could never apply to us.”

“And why is that?” she challenged.

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a silky murmur. “Be cause I intend to have you again. And again.
And again.
”

Her breath hitched, and he watched in satisfaction as her dark gaze went to his mouth, then roamed over his bare chest before lowering to where his erection tented the covers at his waist. Heat flared in her eyes. Above the top edge of the sheet, her breasts heaved as she struggled to regulate her erratic breathing.

“No, Michael,” she whispered.

“
Yes,
Reese.”

Their gazes held for another long, sexually charged moment before she glanced away, expelling a shaky breath. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled. “You’re not listening to me. I just explained to you why this was a mistake, and why it can’t happen again.”

“And
I’m
telling you that it can, and it will.”

“What’s the point?” she burst out in exasperation. “You and I both know this isn’t leading anywhere! In less than two months I’ll be back in Houston, and you’ll be back to enjoying your status as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. Why ruin lives over what essentially amounts to a summer fling?”

“This ain’t no damn summer fling,” Michael snarled, incensed by her repeated attempts to trivialize what may have been the most spectacular night of his life.

“Oh, come on, Michael,” she scoffed. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I mean, you’re
Michael Wolf.
You can have any woman you want, whenever you want, wherever you—”

Something snapped inside him, and he exploded, “I don’t want
any
woman! I want you!”

Reese stared at him, her eyes wide with stunned disbelief.

He glared back at her, his jaw tightly clenched as he fought for self-control. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and his entire body was vibrating with the fierce, overpowering urge to pin her to the mattress and make love to her in a way that would leave no doubt in her mind that she belonged to him.

“Oh my.” Reese bit her lip, shaking her head slowly at him. “You really
are
going to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?”

Michael’s pulse thudded. An emotion suspiciously akin to hope sprang to life in his chest. And then he saw a trace of amusement glittering in her eyes.

“What’s so damned funny?” he snapped.

“You. Me.
Us.
” She sighed, shaking her head again. “The truth is, Michael, I’ve been halfway in love with you for the past three years. My family, friends and colleagues tease me constantly about having a major crush on you. It’s so bad that they’ve even taken to calling you my fantasy boyfriend.”

Michael wasn’t amused. “So what are you saying? Last night was about you living out some sort of fantasy?”

Reese gave a low, indulgent laugh. “Oh, now, don’t give me that wounded look.

You have no reason to be offended. What we shared last night far exceeded my fantasies, and I didn’t think that was even possible. But just because you rocked my world doesn’t mean I foolishly expect you to become my boyfriend.”

“And why the hell not?” Michael growled. “What would be so damn crazy about that?”

She gave him a gentle, almost pitying look. “Come on, Michael. You’re not
real
-

boyfriend material. You’re
fantasy
-boyfriend material. You’re that smokin’ hot guy every girl fantasizes about. The guy who, though you know he’s totally unattainable, you’d jump at the chance to spend one wild night of sex with. And then years down the line—long after you’d settled into a comfortable life with the safe, sweet, reliable man you ended up marrying—you’d indulge in a moment of girlish whim and tell your daughters all about that one reckless night of passion you had with your fantasy lover.” She smiled demurely.

“I’m lucky. Not every woman gets such an opportunity.”

Michael glowered at her, seething with anger and something darker, something infinitely more dangerous. Something that made his heart ache with fierce, primal yearning.

Reese’s smile wavered. “Uh, Michael—?”

He lunged at her just as a cell phone suddenly rang, intruding like the blast of an explosion in the room.

Reese scrambled to the other side of the bed, looking as relieved as a small doe that had narrowly escaped the clutches of a savage predator.

Scowling, Michael watched as she reached down, grabbed her phone out of her purse—when the hell had she brought
that
upstairs?—and answered in a breathless rush,

“Hello?” Pause. “Yes, this is Reese St. James.”

The sheet had become dislodged in her mad scramble to reach the phone. Michael stared, his penis twitching at the sight of her full, luscious breasts crowned with dark nipples. He remembered the delicious weight of them in his hands, remembered the way they’d swelled beneath the hungry lash of his tongue, remembered the way they’d bounced and jiggled as he drove into her.

He reached down to stroke his erection before he caught himself.

Reese listened into the phone for a moment. “Sure. I’ll hold.” Her eyes lifted to Michael’s. “It’s—” She broke off at the arrested look on his face. Following the direction of his gaze, she gasped and snatched the sheet back over her breasts.

Michael felt a sharp pang of regret—and annoyance. Who the hell was calling her this early in the morning? It’d
better
not be her damn boyfriend!

“Who’s that?” he demanded.

Her eyes narrowed at his jealous, possessive tone. She pressed the mute button on her phone and said coolly, “It’s Drew’s assistant. They want me to come down to the studio today for an orientation session, and she also wanted to remind me that you and I are supposed to be shooting our promo spot tomorrow for the apprentice series.”

“I don’t need a damn reminder.” Leaning back against the headboard, Michael gestured impatiently at the phone. “Why are you on hold?”

“She’s double-checking some details with the production crew.” Reese clutched the sheet tighter to her chest, pinning him with a hostile glare. “I’d like to get dressed.”

“Knock yourself out,” he muttered, waving in the general vicinity of the adjoining master bathroom.

“My clothes are downstairs,” she reminded him.

“So go get them,” he retorted, defiantly rebelling against every gentlemanly instinct that had been instilled in him from the time he could walk.

He could almost hear Reese gnashing her teeth. “I’m on the phone,” she said tersely. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not wander around your penthouse butt naked. Especially with all these damn windows.”

“We’re on the fortieth floor. No one can see you.”

Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “I’m asking nicely.”

“You don’t sound very nice to me.”

“Pretty please!”
she snapped.

Heaving an impatient breath, Michael flung back the covers and swung out of the bed. To demonstrate to Reese that they were safe from the prying eyes of voyeurs, he stalked across the master suite and stood before the wall of windows, just as bold and nude as he pleased.

“See,” he said, turning back toward the bed. “It’s all g—”

The rest of the words died on his lips.

Eyes filled with raw, naked hunger stared back at him.

His body reacted with a sharp jolt of lust that sizzled through his veins and rushed straight to his groin. His erection, which had taunted him all morning, now hardened into full-fledged arousal.

Reese was utterly riveted.

Driven by some perverse impulse, Michael reached down and trailed his fingers lightly along the jutting length of his shaft. Inwardly he smiled at the soft gasp that came from across the room. Without looking at Reese, he wrapped his fingers around his erection and gave himself a long, stroking caress. Up and down, slowly and provocatively. He let his eyes drift closed, as if he were so caught up in pleasuring himself that he’d completely forgotten he had an audience. A captive audience, judging by the sound of Reese’s ragged breathing.

Not that he was entirely immune to the eroticism of being watched by her. As he pumped himself, he imagined that it was her hands sliding along his shaft, as she’d done last night. Stroking, caressing, driving him insane with lust. He became so aroused by the explicit images that a pearly bead of pre-come seeped from the tip of his penis, adding to the realism of his little “performance.”

When he finally stole a peek at Reese, her eyes were heavy lidded and glazed with desire, her lips parted on a soundless moan. He felt a surge of wicked triumph that was tempered only by his own mounting arousal.

Giving her a lazy smile, he left the windows and began sauntering from the room.

“Yes, I’m still here,” he heard her croak into the phone.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her reach beneath the covers to touch herself. As she closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath, he grinned with satisfaction.

Maybe being a fantasy boyfriend wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Chapter 14

“H
oney, I’m home!” Raina Mayne announced in a singsong voice that brought a grin to Reese’s face on the other end of the phone.

“Hey, you,” she greeted her sister, sinking into her favorite armchair in the living room. “How was Italy?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” Raina said dreamily.

Reese’s grin widened. “I want to hear all about it.”

“Well, the conference was productive, of course. I came away with a wealth of information about the latest advances in spa therapy, which I can’t wait to incorporate at Touch of Heaven.”

“That’s good.” Reese knew how much her sister’s luxury day spa meant to her.

“As great as the conference was,” Raina continued, “the other things we did are what made the trip so special. We went on moonlit gondola rides, explored beautiful vineyards. Oh, and the
food,
Reesey. The pasta, those gelatos. You would have been in foodie heaven.”

Reese smiled, fighting a small pang of envy. “It all sounds
very
romantic.”

“It was. It felt like a second honeymoon.” Raina sighed. “You should have been there.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I would’ve been a third wheel. Maybe next time.”

“Not as long as you and Victor are together,” Raina muttered under her breath.

Reese’s smile faded. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Raina said brightly—too brightly. “Anyway, enough about my trip.

How’s Hotlanta? Are you having fun?”

“You could say that.” Now that Reese finally had her sister on the phone, she didn’t even know where to begin. She had so much to tell her. And yet, a part of her wanted to keep the most intimate details of her liaison with Michael to herself, like a cherished secret.

She decided to start somewhere safe. “First and foremost, I have some exciting news to share. Remember the contest I entered six months ago to become Michael Wolf’s apprentice?”

Raina snorted out a laugh. “Of course I remember. You were—” She broke off abruptly. “Wait a minute. Are you about to tell me that—”

“You’re speaking to Michael Wolf’s new apprentice.”

“Oh my God!” Raina let out an ear-splitting squeal that must have brought her husband running. Raina excitedly repeated the news to him.

“Hey, that’s great,” Warrick Mayne’s deep, masculine timbre could be heard in the background. “Tell her I said congratulations.”

“Warrick says congratulations,” Raina quickly relayed.

Reese smiled. “Tell him I said thanks.”

“He just left the room. This is unbelievable, Reesey,” Raina continued in a breathless rush. “I
knew
that recipe you submitted would knock the judges’ socks off.

Remember how much we all loved it when you made it for us?”

“Yes. Thanks for being my guinea pigs.”

“Hell,
we
should thank
you.
Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Of course. They were very excited. I made them promise to let me tell you.”

“Man, why did
I
have to be the last one to find out?” Being the baby of the family, Raina had a complex about being last in
anything.
“When’d you get the call?”

“Tuesday, technically. But I didn’t listen to the actual message until Wednesday.”

“Today?”

“No, last Wednesday.”

“
Last
Wednesday!” Raina cried in disbelief. “You should have called me!”

Reese laughed. “I didn’t want to disturb you. Besides, there was a six-hour time difference.”

“I don’t care! You could have called me any time.”

Reese grinned. “Even if you and Warrick were in the middle of, ah…” She trailed off pointedly, clearing her throat.

“Well…” There was no mistaking the naughty mischief in Raina’s voice.

Again Reese laughed. “I didn’t think so.”

“You could have left me a message,” Raina insisted. “That’s what voice mail is for.

Anyway, you must have been thrilled when you got the call.”

“Actually,” Reese said drily, “I was anything but.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’d met Michael Wolf at his restaurant the night before. Let’s just say we got off to a rocky start.”

Knowing Raina would never accept such a cryptic response, Reese gave her a detailed account of everything that had transpired between her and Michael that night, as well as the next morning when he’d called to apologize to her, only to further antagonize her.

“I can’t believe he behaved that way,” Raina exclaimed at the end of the story.

“Warrick always speaks so highly of Michael Wolf. I wouldn’t have expected him to come off as such a jerk. It just goes to show—”