Recipe for Temptation (7 page)

Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “Who else came close to being as good as Reese?”

Michael racked his brain trying to recall the other contestants’ faces, but most of them were a blur. As much as he hated to admit it, the only one who’d stood out was Reese.

“You have to admit that the stars seem to be aligned in her favor,” Drew said, pressing his advantage. “First the recipe she submitted was our test kitchen favorite. Then she just happened to be in Atlanta when we notified her. As it turns out she’ll be here on sabbatical for the next two months, which means she’ll be available for taping the apprentice episodes and attending any publicity events we ask of her. And if that’s still not enough proof that she’s the right woman for the job, she just gave an audition performance that was clearly head and shoulders above the rest.” He cast an impatient glance around the table. “Quite honestly, I’m surprised we’re even debating this.”

“Well,” Lexi argued diplomatically, “with all due respect, boss man, it
is
Michael’s show. And since he’s the one who’s going to be working closely with this apprentice for the next few weeks, it’s only right that he get the final say on who it will be.”

Michael smiled at his old friend.
Finally! A voice of reason.
“Thank you, Lexi.”

“That said,” she added, dark eyes twinkling, “I think you’d be out of your mind not to pick Reese St. James.” Everyone laughed.

Everyone but Michael. Leaning back in his chair, he blew out a deep, frustrated breath.

“Well?” Drew prompted, eyeing him expectantly. “What’s the verdict? Is the doctor in?”

Michael’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he muttered darkly, “but if we end up getting hate mail from scandalized stay-at-home moms, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Chapter 5

R
eese was in a daze.

She’d just gotten off the phone with Drew Corbett, who’d called to tell her that she’d won the apprentice competition. He’d praised her audition performance as

“captivating” and “brilliant.” Reese had been floored, and undeniably flattered. Perhaps that would explain why, when she opened her mouth to politely decline the offer—as she’d planned—what came out instead was, “Thank you so much for this incredible opportunity.

I look forward to working with you!”

After the call ended, she’d stared incredulously at the phone in her hand. She couldn’t believe how easily she’d abandoned her plan to get even with Michael. What on earth had gotten into her?

Who are you kidding?
her conscience mocked.
You never had any intention of
turning down the opportunity to work with Michael Wolf. Who in their right mind would?

Despite everything Reese had told herself, and despite the fact that she’d spent the past three days calling him everything but a child of God, she still wanted Michael. He’d awakened something deep inside her. Something wanton, delicious, intoxicating.

Something dangerously irresistible.

She couldn’t have stayed away from him if her life depended on it.

Her cell phone jangled suddenly, jerking her out of her trance. When she saw Victor’s number, her face heated with shame, as though he’d intercepted her traitorous thoughts from hundreds of miles away. She considered ignoring the call, but she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever.

Blowing out a deep breath that ruffled her long bangs, she answered the phone.

“Hello, there.”

“Reese? Thank God you picked up.” Victor sounded both relieved and exasperated.

“I was just about to call your sister to see if we needed to file a missing person’s report with the police.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Reese said drily. “Besides, Raina wouldn’t have appreciated being awakened early in the morning.”

“What do you mean?”

“She and Warrick are attending that conference in Italy, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.”

Reese had nearly forgotten herself. She’d been dying to call her sister and tell her everything that had happened in the past four days. In fact, on the night she’d met Michael, she’d excused herself after dinner and made a beeline for the restroom just to call Raina.

She’d dialed her sister’s number before she remembered that Raina was out of the country with her husband, Warrick. Since returning from their honeymoon three months ago, the newlyweds had been inseparable, and while this recent trip was for business, Reese had no doubt that they’d spend as much time
in
bed as out of it.

“We should have gone with them after all,” Victor said wistfully. “I could have shown you guys around Venice and taken you to some of the best places in the world to eat.

We could have had a wonderful time together.” He sighed. “If only you and I weren’t such workaholics.”

Reese refrained from pointing out to him that
he
was the one who’d cited their busy schedules when Raina approached them with the idea of accompanying her and Warrick on their overseas business trip. Reese had been willing to take time off from work for a romantic excursion to Italy, but Victor had refused.

His remark was just another example of his selective memory. Apparently he’d also chosen to forget that he’d promised to give Reese space. Calling her every day wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she’d asked for a breather.

“I’ve left you several messages,” he told her. “Did you get them?”

“Yes. I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”
You haven’t
given
me a chance,
Reese added silently.

“So what have you been doing with yourself? Done any sightseeing?”

“A little.” Inside the kitchen, Reese walked to the refrigerator and removed a plate of thawed veal cutlets she’d seasoned earlier to make veal parmigiana for dinner. She’d made a pact with herself not to eat out more than twice a week, although it was tempting with so many great restaurants to choose from.

“Why are you being so vague?” Victor complained. “I’m not interrogating you. I just want to know what you’ve been up to.”

Reese gave him a quick rundown of her week. Other than to mention having dinner at Wolf’s Soul, she didn’t elaborate on her encounters with Michael Wolf, or the apprenticeship. She didn’t feel like dealing with Victor’s jealousy.

“How long are you going to keep running away, Reese?”

Here we go.
“Don’t start.”

“Damn it, Reese, can’t you see how crazy this is, how irrational you’re behaving? If I skipped town every time
I
lost a patient—”

Anger slashed through her. “Don’t
even
go there.”

Victor sighed. “Reese—”

“No,” she snapped, her voice trembling with leashed anger. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you. You made your feelings perfectly clear before I left. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

“
Merda!
Would you just listen to me?”

“I’ve heard enough!” she shouted. “God, I can’t believe you’d be callous enough to throw Deidra Thomas’s death in my face like that! The most awful day of my life was the day I had to look her husband in the eye and tell him he had to raise their three young children alone. I will
never
forget—” Her voice broke, and she blinked back tears.

“Reese—” Victor began.

“I’ve been trying my damnedest not to think about what that poor man and his family must be going through. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m trying.” She swallowed a hard knot of emotion. “Maybe I’m not as strong as you are, Victor. Maybe you would have handled Deidra’s death better. But
I
needed to get away for a while and clear my head, and I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“I never asked you to,” Victor said defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Reese shot back.

He heaved a breath. “Let’s not argue anymore,
cara mia.
Please?”

There was a time Reese would have melted at the endearment. Now she just felt annoyed, as if he were trying to manipulate her by speaking Italian. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She sighed. “Look, I should go. I want to finish making dinner so I can catch a movie later.”

“Alone?”

“Yes,” she bit off.
“Alone.”

“Will you call me tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Can I call you?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” When he started to protest, she said firmly, “Give me at least a week, Victor.
One
week. I’m serious.”

He sighed harshly in her ear. “If that’s what you really want—”

“It is.”

“Fine. Have it your way.”

“Thank you. Good night.”

Reese hung up and dropped her cell phone onto the countertop with a loud clatter.

She could feel the onset of a headache behind her eyelids, and as she surveyed the veal cutlets she’d removed from the refrigerator, she realized she’d lost her appetite.

Damn you, Victor,
she thought rancorously.

Abandoning her plans to make dinner, she strode to the butler’s pantry and snagged a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from the wine rack. She poured herself a glass and headed into the living room. As she sank into a comfy armchair, her gaze landed on Michael’s
Howlin’ Good
cookbook on the fireplace mantel, where she’d placed it so she wouldn’t forget to burn it.

That was three days ago. The rage she’d felt toward Michael had lessened considerably since then. Truth be told, she was angrier with Victor at the moment than Michael. So angry, in fact, that she was beginning to think that their relationship couldn’t be saved. It had been on life support for a long time.

Maybe it was time to finally pull the plug.

Chapter 6

“U
ncle Mike! Uncle Mike!”

Michael had just stepped out of his car when two miniature tornadoes, in the form of his three-year-old nephews, came hurtling down the driveway toward him. By the time he closed the car door, the twins had launched themselves at his legs. Laughing, Michael reached down and scooped them into his arms, planting an affectionate kiss on top of each boy’s head.

“Hey, pups,” he greeted them. “How was Disney World?”

“Fun!” Matthew and Malcolm Wolf chorused, their identical faces lit up with wide, dimpled smiles. “You shoulda come with us!”

Michael chuckled, watching as his brother, Marcus, sauntered toward him. “I wish I could have, but I had to work. Maybe next time.”

“You promise?” entreated Matthew, who’d already established himself as the more demanding twin.

Coming to Michael’s rescue, Marcus said chidingly, “Little boy, your mother and I need to catch our breath before we even
think
about taking any more trips to Orlando.”

Michael grinned at his brother. “Ran you ragged, didn’t they?”

Marcus chuckled. “Let’s just say I’ve never felt so old in my life.”

“That’s because you
are
old.”

“Hey, look who’s talking!”

Though almost six years apart, Michael and Marcus had often been described as dead ringers of each other. Like Michael, Marcus was tall, broad-shouldered and long-legged, with smooth mahogany skin and the strong, masculine features they’d both inherited from their father. A prominent tort attorney, Marcus had been enjoying the carefree lifestyle of a renowned ladies’ man—until he went to Washington, D.C., four years ago and got tamed by Samara Layton.

As Marcus plucked Matt out of his brother’s arm, Michael swung Malcolm over his head and onto his shoulders, making the boy squeal with delight. Marcus did the same with Matt, lest he feel cheated.

“Where’s Samara?” Michael asked his brother as they started up the walk toward their father’s house.

“Getting her hair done.” Marcus smiled. “After a week of swimming and sweating out her hair at one theme park after another, she said she was in desperate need of a fresh relaxer. I told her to treat herself to a massage while she was at it, so we might not see her for a long time.”

Michael gave his brother an amused sidelong glance. “What a kind, thoughtful husband you are.”

Marcus shrugged. “What can I say? Nothing but the best for my queen.”

If the comment had been made by anyone else, Michael might have rolled his eyes in laughing disbelief. But he knew better than anyone how much Marcus loved Samara. He worshipped the ground she walked on and would do anything for her. So when he called her his queen, Michael knew he was speaking from the heart.

“Grandpa!”

Sterling Wolf was waiting in the doorway, an excited grin wreathing his face at the sight of his sons and grandchildren. As they drew nearer, he snapped a picture with the expensive digital camera he’d received as a gift last month on Father’s Day.

“Beautiful,” he pronounced, beaming with pride as he tucked the camera into the front pocket of his polo shirt. “You boys look just like your father and uncle did at your age.”

Michael and Marcus had barely set down the twins before they rushed into their grandfather’s wide-open arms. Sterling hugged them tightly, bellowing with laughter as they began babbling about their adventures at Disney World.

“Whoa,” Marcus called out, raising his voice to be heard above the cacophony.

“Grandpa can’t understand a word you boys are saying. One at a time.”

“Aw, leave ’em alone,” Sterling said good-naturedly. “This is music to my ears.”

Michael and Marcus exchanged amused glances. “Do you ever remember him saying that when
we
were growing up?” Marcus asked.

Michael grinned. “Nope.”

Pointedly ignoring them, Sterling whispered conspiratorially to his grandsons, “Ms.

Frizell has a special treat waiting for you in the kitchen. Why don’t you go see what it is?”

With eager squeals, the boys took off down the hall in a flash of matching blue Tshirts and white sneakers. Sterling smiled as he watched them go, the epitome of the proud, doting grandfather. He’d wept with joy the day the twins were born—the first time in years Michael had seen his tough, hard-nosed father reduced to tears.

Heaving a deep sigh of contentment, Sterling turned to Michael and Marcus. “It’s good to have the Wolf pack together again,” he declared, draping an arm around each son’s shoulder as they started for the foyer. “Thanks for coming over and spending your Saturday with your old man.”