“And what would you like to eat?”
He thought about the dark delights that hid behind her lacy apron. He swallowed hard.
“Surprise me.”
Oh yeah, he had it bad.
****
The following Sunday morning Rose sat in the brightly painted family visitor’s room at the Mid-Orange Correctional Facility. She never got used to the sight of the armed guards stationed at strategic points around the room, the same guards who also dispensed sets of dominos and decks of cards to approved visitors. In one corner, a group of toddlers gathered around a television set to watch a Disney video. Seated in anxious knots at the other thirty or forty tables scattered around the room, adult visitors awaited the arrival of their incarcerated loved ones from the cell blocks.
Finally, Rose spotted Mikey coming through the metal door. Always a slight kid, he’d bulked up a lot in the eighteen months he’d been here. He told her being bigger kept him safer. She didn’t like to think about what he meant by that. And she still couldn’t shake the thought that if she’d been paying closer attention to him instead of throwing herself into culinary school, she might have prevented him getting into trouble in the first place.
Their parents had died suddenly several years before, leaving Rose, only nineteen, as the guardian of her two younger siblings. Keeping them fed and going to school every day had seemed a major accomplishment at the time. She hadn’t meant to let Mikey go astray.
Visitors and inmates were allowed a short hug, and Rose almost cried when Mikey clung to her for several seconds past the regulation twenty. They sat down across from each other and she dealt out the playing cards as usual. They played gin together every time she came. The game gave them something to focus on for the hour she was there.
After the second hand, she leaned across the table and looked him in the eye.
“I’m going to get you out of here, Mikey.” She’d been making that promise to him every time she visited. Saying the words did nothing to dull the sharp edge of guilt she always carried. But now, with Zack Cranston paying her double for Friday nights, she’d have the money to cover a new attorney’s retainer in a matter of a few months.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I just got a big raise from one of my clients. In no time you’ll be getting a visit from one of those hot-shot lawyers at Feinstein, Jackson and Lowe. Once they hear how the DA railroaded you, I’m sure they’ll take your case. If they’re half as good as I’ve heard they are, you’ll get that appeal and you just might make it home for Christmas.
Mikey’s hand covered hers and squeezed.
“I’m counting on turkey with all the trimmings, sis.”
“Cranberry sauce, pie, the works,” she promised.
Mikey’s eyes went shiny.
“Thanks for believing in me.”
“What kind of big sister would I be if I didn’t?”
“You’d be surprised. Lotsa guys in here, their families don’t stand by ‘em. I’m lucky to have you watching out for me.”
Rose swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She couldn’t imagine abandoning her brother, especially since she was partly to blame. She was the lucky one to have found a way to make a good living when so many other chefs were without jobs.
But she knew how Mikey would react if he found out she cooked for her clients in the nude. The sooner she could get this money set aside, the better.
****
The following Friday afternoon Rose stood at the meat counter of her favorite gourmet grocery store surveying the selection of aged prime beef. Finally deciding on a beautifully marbled rib eye steak, she placed the package in her basket and moved on to the produce aisle. Never having prepared an evening meal for Mr. Cranston, she didn’t like assuming he was a steak-and-potatoes kind of man, but she had to start somewhere. And since he was obviously wealthy and not a vegetarian, a good aged steak seemed like a safe bet this first time.
In the produce section she chose ingredients for a simple salad, plus lemons and garlic for a homemade Caesar dressing. Then she stocked up on eggs and cream, planning to make custard for dessert. And last of all she bought a bottle of nice cabernet.
Would he prefer cocktails? If so, he’d no doubt make a point to maintain his own stock of liquor.
Everyone enjoyed a glass of fine red wine with beef, didn’t they?
At the check-out counter it really began to bother her that she didn’t know more about him. By the time she settled back in the cab for the ten minute ride to his apartment, she had an attack of full-blown curiosity going on.
How odd. This hadn’t happened with any of her other clients. She’d had no problem at all maintaining a purely business relationship with everyone else. But then none of her other clients had insisted on hiring her for additional hours and paying her twice her standard rate to do so. That ramped everything up a notch.
So what did she know about Zack Cranston?
Well, aside from his obvious wealth, she knew he liked fine art and had excellent taste. The walls of his impeccably decorated apartment sported several pieces by well known mid-century American painters. He seemed to be a neat person. Even the little powder room where she changed her clothes always sparkled. He probably had maid service once or twice a week. As for what he did for a living, she hadn’t a clue. She’d had the agency do all the screening, and she had never had reason to ask to see his file.
And then there was the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous. His hotness was something she’d tried her mightiest to ignore, and up until tonight she’d done a pretty fair job of not thinking much about him. As with her other four clients, she’d managed to keep any personal feelings completely at bay. But she was only human. Of course she had noticed his broad chest and shoulders, the tousled wealth of his dark hair, the chiseled planes of his face.
And his eyes. They were hazel, a changeable blend of browns and greens and hints of steel blue. The most striking pair of eyes she had ever seen. Not that she’d looked directly into them very often. Doing so always seemed to cause havoc with the rhythm of her heart.
Until now she’d only seen those eyes in the morning, when long rays of yellow light slanted in through the east windows. What color would they be tonight with only lamplight to pierce the shadows that fell across his handsome face?
As the cab neared his building she took out her compact and checked her makeup, then gave her reflection a stern scowl. There was nothing different about tonight, she told herself. She would just be fixing dinner instead of his usual breakfast. He’d be the perfect gentleman, as he always was, and she’d cook a fine meal and clean up afterwards just as she always did. It was true that he sometimes liked to kid around with her, but she would be silly to take his teasing seriously. He’d never come close to crossing the line. And that was a good thing. There couldn’t be any deviation from the rules outlined in their mutual contract, or her whole plan would be in jeopardy.
And she wasn’t about to let Mikey down.
But as she climbed out of the cab and smiled at Jeffrey, she found her heart was pounding in a most disconcerting way.
****
Zack nearly let out a yelp as the buzzer rang and Jeffrey’s voice on the intercom announced that Rose was on her way up. Should he let her use her key as usual, or would it be permissible to show her in, as he would a guest? Somehow, having her come here in the evening did seem to change the dynamic between them. He most definitely did feel as if she was more like a guest.
He went to the door and listened for her footsteps on the polished floor of the hallway. Eventually he heard the tip-tap of her high heels getting closer. His damp palm made the door knob slippery, and just as he finally managed to turn it, she inserted her key. He swung the door open hard, pulling her in with it.
“Oh!” she made a soft sound of surprise as she ran headlong into his chest. Only the bulk of her coat and the bag of groceries she carried prevented them from making more intimate contact. He reached out and steadied
her, his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of her body permeated the coat making his skin hum.
“Excuse me,” she said, attempting to back away. He held her fast.
“My fault,” he said, getting a whiff of her hair. The exotic but subtle floral scent immediately bewitched him. He couldn’t seem to let her go. His eyes locked with hers. He’d never looked into her eyes before. Up this close, he was amazed at the rich brown color of her irises. They were like a deep glass of cognac tinged with firelight.
Her luxuriant voice. Her sexy brown eyes. What else had he missed?
“You’re squashing the groceries,” she whispered.
“Oh. Right.” He let his hands drop and stepped back, allowing her to pass.
He followed her into the entry hall, feeling strangely awkward. Always before, he would wake to find her ensconced in his kitchen, sans clothing. What was the protocol here tonight? Should he offer to take her coat? He didn’t think so. For all he knew, she didn’t have a stitch on beneath it.
In the kitchen, she set the groceries on the counter and began taking items out of the bag. A package wrapped in butcher paper, lemons, potatoes, lettuce, eggs. He watched as she emptied everything from the bag. Finally she handed him the bottle of cabernet.
“Dinner in one hour. I’ll put you in charge of opening the wine.” She turned and whisked around the corner to the powder room off the entry. He heard the door close with a decisive thunk.
Roaming the length of the massive kitchen island and back, Zack attempted to regain some semblance of the composure he had planned to possess tonight. What was wrong with him, anyway? He didn’t normally freak out in the presence of sexy women. In fact, the women he knew always chided him for his cool detachment, his lack of emotion. But lately, around Rose, he’d behaved in a way that, frankly, had him baffled. Take for instance those rash proposals of marriage he’d made last Sunday. Luckily she had known he was only kidding. A less secure woman might have tried to press her advantage.
Wait.
Had he been kidding? Or had some part of him been testing the water, halfway wanting her to take him seriously?
He checked in with himself as he poured a generous amount of scotch into a short glass. No. At thirty-three he was a confirmed bachelor and that wasn’t likely to change. He’d seen up close and personal how marriages went bad. He only needed to think about his four stepmothers to reaffirm that getting hitched would be a losing proposition. He didn’t figure he had any better chance of success at long-term commitment than his father.
So this thing with Rose? Probably nothing more than a silly, temporary fixation, no doubt enhanced by her unavailability. Right?
Yes, that had to be it. The only reason she had held his attention as long as she had was because they hadn’t slept together.
Yet.
Zack grinned and drained the glass. Now he had a handle on the situation. The quickest way to get beyond this obsession and regain his sanity was to get Rose into his bed.
Of course, the clause in the contract he’d signed stipulated no physical contact. His grin widened. Technically, he was already in breach of that clause, wasn’t he, after their collision at his front door? And Rose hadn’t seemed to object in the least.
Chapter Three
Rose hung her coat on the back of the powder room door and turned to face the mirror. Spots of high color marked her cheekbones and her breath had more than a little hitch to it. As she got undressed, she tried to tell herself those symptoms had nothing to do with Mr. Cranston grabbing her arms the way he did, or the wild, mossy-stone depths of his eyes close up, or the way his cologne made her toes curl in her stilettos. For a brief moment there, she had thought he might try to kiss her. How silly. They had a written agreement preventing such things from happening.
Besides, he was a wealthy, successful bachelor. No doubt he had all the women he wanted without having to stoop to seducing the hired help.
But as she tied the lacy apron around her waist and checked the view from all angles, her pulse continued to carom like a pinball. Something changed between them in that moment in his entryway. She’d become aware of a current of energy sparking between them that hadn’t been there before.
Or maybe the current had been there all along, and she’d been unwilling to acknowledge it. Like she’d been unwilling to admit her curiosity about him or the fact that she was definitely attracted to him physically. Earlier in the cab she’d decided that her unfortunate attraction to him didn’t need to affect their business relationship, but now she wasn’t so sure. Could she ignore her feelings and maintain the status quo?
Staring into her own eyes, Rose let herself picture Mikey sitting in that dark concrete prison for another ten years. Without a new trial, led by a new defense team that actually knew what they were doing, there was no hope of Mikey getting out of there anytime soon.
She shoved down the sensation of nausea that always threatened when she thought of her sweet little brother locked behind bars, then dug her favorite red lipstick out of her purse. As she colored her mouth with a shaking hand, she vowed to clean up her act around Zack Cranston. She couldn’t afford to let physical attraction to him distract her from her true purpose. She couldn’t afford to blow this job. Not if he would pay her double for an occasional Friday night.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom and lifted her chin. Somehow she would make it all work.
When she got to the kitchen he was no longer there. A quick scan of the living area revealed the man in question standing outside on the condo’s expansive terrace, a drink in hand. Used to seeing him in his bathrobe, unshaven and just out of bed, she hadn’t been prepared for the way he looked in Italian slacks and silk shirt. Beyond handsome, way beyond. Right off the cover of GQ magazine.
Breathing a sigh of thanks that he seemed happy to stay on the terrace, she started on the custard cups, which would bake with the potatoes while she prepared the rest of the meal. She had just cracked the eggs and measured sugar into the bowl, when he wandered back in and stood across the island from her.
For nearly a minute he didn’t speak, but stood there watching, fidgeting with his empty glass while she whipped the yolks and sugar together into a smooth golden batter.
“What’s on the menu?” he finally asked.
“Rib steak. Potatoes. Caesar salad and custard for dessert.” She didn’t look up as she added cinnamon and salt to the mixture and then slowly poured in scalded milk. Even from three feet away she could feel the heat of his body and smell his yummy cologne. He pointed to the six buttered ramekins waiting on the counter.
“Are we going to eat all of those?”
“You can save some of them for later.”
“Or you could stay over and we could share them for breakfast tomorrow morning.”
What a kidder. She looked up, expecting to see the telltale gleam of humor in his eyes, but he looked back at her without a hint of a smile. As her gaze locked with his, her pulse began that crazy pinging action again. For several seconds she forgot to breathe. She steadied herself against the counter and let her eyes drop to his chest. Almost immediately she found herself imagining how sensuous the silk of his shirt would be against her naked nipples.
Then she remembered why she was here and who was counting on her to keep her head straight.
“Mr. Cranston!” She made her voice as stern as possible. “You’re getting far too personal with me.” She wagged her finger at him like a school teacher lecturing a sassy boy.
Bad move.
He was standing so close, still just across the island, that it took nothing at all for him to make a quick grab and capture the offending finger in his fist.
Rose gasped and froze in place. What an odd sensation. It was almost as if he’d imprisoned her whole body, not just her finger. Heat crept upwards from her chest to her face. Finally she let her gaze lift to meet his.
“I liked that.” His voice soft as butter, a whisper almost. The clean, p
leasant smell of the scotch on his breath wafted to her. His pupils were huge and velvet black.
“What?”
“I liked it when you were bossy with me just now.”
“Oh.” Something like pleasure curled in her belly.
“Are you always so sure about things, Rose?”
“Yes,” she lied. She forced herself to maintain eye contact, though her heart was absolutely hammering in her chest. “Please release my finger.”
For a moment he didn’t move. Then a grin spread over his lips.
“Okay, Rose. Whatever you say.” He nodded. “For now.” He opened his fist, letting her finger drop. Then he spun on his heel and headed for the bar.
****
Whoa. Since when had touching someone’s finger given him an instant hard on? As Zack replenished the scotch in his glass, he refused to turn and look at her. He needed to give her some time to rearrange that outraged expression on her beautiful face into one that didn’t spell the imminent demise of their relationship.
He’d crossed the line just now, yes. But could you blame a guy? She’d stuck that delectable digit right in his face.
To be honest, there were other delectable parts that he’d much rather have captured. Those parts are what had no doubt given him the erection. There were her lush red lips, which had been only inches away from his, not to mention her naked breasts swinging soft and full as she’d beaten the eggs. Oh how he longed to close his mouth around one of her firm pink nipples.
Setting the bottle down, he swirled the liquor against the edge of the glass and then turned around. She was carefully filling the ramekins with hot custard, pretending to ignore him. Fine. As long as she didn’t put on her coat and leave in a huff, he hadn’t totally blown it with her.
He let out a long, slow breath. Okay. He’d bide his time for now; he’d continue to play the game her way. After all, he did have a reputation for his nerves of steel, his cool control, even under the most severe pressure. He was confident that her reserve would thaw, contract or no, and he’d have her between the sheets. He’d seen the way her pupils dilated and heard the catch in her breath. Hell, her nipples were hard as buttons right now, and not because of a chill in the air. He’d bet his BMW she was just as turned on as he was.
Naked Treats Page 2