And He Cooks Too

by Barbara Barrett

  Apparently oblivious to the cue, Trudy settled back, cuddled a throw pillow. “Does this new status mean you won’t be able to give me any more cooking lessons?”

  Reese nearly choked on her tea. Despite the high drama surrounding the day’s taping, all this woman cared about was her cooking lessons? “I don’t know how much free time I’ll have for awhile. We’ll have to see.”

  Her face wrinkling into a pout, Trudy’s response was interrupted by a new arrival.

  “Reese? You in there?” Nick’s voice called from outside. Before Reese could reply, the door opened and James wheeled him into the room. Nick greeted her with, “Hey, Champ! I thought we might cel— Uh, hi, Trudy.”

  She would have guessed Nick had headed off to his own dressing room to crash. But he’d sought her out instead. Interesting. “Look. Trudy brought me tea. Want some?”

  “Uh, no.” He held up the bottle of water he’d tucked into the side of the wheelchair. “Thanks, James. You don’t need to stay. Reese will get me back to the set.”

  He then turned to Trudy. “Thank you, too, “ he said dismissively.

  Trudy continued to lounge.

  More pointedly, he asked, “Would you mind giving us some privacy?”

  Privacy? Was he still remembering that bear hug and the intense look they exchanged, like she was?

  Trudy took her time but finally, reluctantly, drew herself up and departed.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Nick pronounced, “Alone at last!” He planted his hands on his thighs. “I’ve always wanted to say that. It sounds so Cary Grant.”

  “Channeling the movie star today?”

  “If he gets me the girl, yes,” he said, his eyes riveted to hers.

  She knew that look. It said, “man on the prowl” whether he was mobile or not. Her stomach fought to maintain equilibrium while it felt like the floor had been removed from beneath her. Suddenly, the room temp shot upward, as she fought to clear her head. So, he had taken more away from that hug than just a simple show of mutual support. Decision time. Did she really want to cross that line?

  She was still on a high following the taping, but forget that. Yes, she wanted to step over the line. Step? No, she wanted to leap across, banging her drum all the way.

  However, that didn’t necessarily mean jumping right into bed with him. But she could certainly enjoy his attention.

  “And what girl would that be today?” she flirted back. “Rosalind Russell? Katherine Hepburn?”

  He continued to train his eyes on her. “Reese Dunbar.”

  Oh. Wow. He really did mean business. “Well, Cary. You’re in luck. Reese Dunbar is available.” Was that her purring? Available and out of my mind.

  Determination in his eyes, he reached over and grabbed both her hands. The contact had the same effect as igniting the pilot light on a gas stove. Her whole body, her heart still pounding from her on-camera experience, was ready to cave.

  His deep blues pinned her down. “You were beyond fantastic out there. It was like you’d been doing this for years.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Out there? When I said you were a natural at this? That wasn’t just for show in front of Jasper and the crew. I really meant it. I know I’ve been pushing you to do this since the night I went after you at Solange, but I had no idea how well you’d do until seeing you in action today.”

  Her libido warred with her pride. Her body heat nearing nuclear reaction stage, his praise burned deeper, warming her pride. He liked it! She’d been so worried throughout the taping that she’d go too far and step on his actor’s ego.

  “I couldn’t have made it through without your support. Like you figured, I was scared silly.”

  “All I did was play straight man. You took it from there. You have a real flair for this stuff.”

  “Coming from you, that’s a true compliment.”

  “Good! Take that as my invitation to zap me out there whenever it feels right.”

  She blinked. “That’s some concession.”

  “Just don’t get carried away,” he told her with mock gravity. Before she could zing him on that, he went on, holding her hands even tighter, if that was possible. “Now, that said…” His eyes became even bluer, his gaze even more intense. In a low, raspy voice, he said, “Something else happened out there. Not in front of the camera. Between us.”

  The air in the room seemed to disappear. At least there didn’t seem to be much available for breathing.

  She waited for him to go on. When he didn’t, she probed, “Yes?”

  All the while watching her, he said, “I think you know what. I’m crazy to act on it now. But then, no one’s ever accused me of overdoing restraint.” He released one hand from hers, placed his freed-up hand behind her neck, and drew her toward him. His lips crushed hers, drinking them in as if they were heady wine. When he at last released her, he pulled away and stared. Gulped. “Incredible.”

  The kiss at the comedy club had been nice but brief. This kiss was…different. Longer, to be sure, but also much more intentional and inviting.

  She struggled to remain aright, her knees ready to cave. He was telling her what he’d say to any woman he was celebrating with. But her inner core told her that wasn’t important right now. She should simply give in to it and enjoy the sensations percolating through her body.

  He started to rise from the chair but immediately fell back. “Damn!”

  “Here. Let me join you.”

  His frown melded into a broad smile. “Be my guest.”

  She parked her backside on his lap and turned sideways so she could see him. She couldn’t resist wriggling a bit to get settled, which she knew had to be throwing him into overdrive due to his quick intake of breath. It was doing things to her too. Setting off fires that should stay unlit until after the taping had officially ended. But she couldn’t hold herself in check. Just beneath the surface of the feelings she was barely containing was a conflagration rivaling any four-alarm fire.

  “Oh, babe,” Nick murmured close to her ear. His breath tickled her hair and caused the tendrils along her neck to stand on alert. “That does crazy things to me.”

  She faced him. “Maybe it’s the drugs in your system.”

  “If I didn’t think I’d mess up the other ankle, I’d roll us both out of this chair and onto the floor.”

  She cut off the rest of his words by lowering her mouth to his. His lips were firm and welcoming, tasting of mint. Her brazenness made it all the more tantalizing and exciting. She deepened the kiss, plunging her tongue into his mouth, not stopping to consider the consequences or the proprieties. She was running on sheer emotion and enjoying herself immensely.

  Nick’s good hand snaked its way inside her chef’s jacket, plowing upward under her tee, spreading warmth as it went. She’d never made out in a wheelchair before. The confinement, though challenging, enhanced the excitement. Involuntarily, she began to wriggle against him and felt him stiffen beneath her.

  His fingers were about to slip under her bra when a sharp rap at the door startled them both.

  “Reese? It’s Jasper. I’ve got great news!”

  Nick withdrew his hand and she sprang from his lap as if running to rescue a cake left in the oven too long. “Be right there, Jasper.”

  “Later,” Nick whispered, his eyes a promise.

  “Later.” She attempted a couple long, deep breaths before opening the door to their director. “What…what’s the verdict?”

  If Jasper picked up on the scene he’d interrupted, he didn’t show it, other than a brief flicker of an eye as he moved past the wheelchair on his way to the day bed. “Good. You’re both here. We found a few minor glitches on the tape. Some we can edit and some we’ll keep. But I’d say we’re good to go. We’re done taping.”

  Reese clapped her hands and blinked several times to stanch unexpected tears.

  Nick sank back in his chair, a huge grin on his face. “That’s great.”

  “W
e’re not home free yet. There’s still Leonie to contend with,” Jasper reminded them.

  Nick rolled his eyes. “Geez, man. Give us at least sixty seconds to celebrate before dumping cold water on the good news.”

  Jasper shot a speculative look Nick’s way, as if to say, “A little cold water might not be a bad idea at the moment,” but instead, he merely smiled and shook his head. “Take the rest of the day off. I think I know how to get her on board.” Without giving them any more details, he sailed out the door.

  Though Jasper’s visit had halted the wheelchair gyrations, Reese was still very much aroused, having unsuccessfully calmed her breathing. She glanced at Nick, raising her eyes and running her tongue lightly over her lips. “We, uh, seem to have the rest of the day to ourselves. Got any ideas how to spend it?”

  He raised a brow. “Just one.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I don’t see either your car or your driver,” Reese said, as she pushed Nick out of the building.

  “Gave James the day off. We’ll need to grab a taxi to get to your apartment.”

  Her apartment. Right. Were her bedsheets clean? How about her bedroom floor? She usually dispensed with dirty underwear immediately, but every so often, preoccupation with some new cooking challenge made her forget. Stop it, Reese. Five minutes ago, you nearly seduced him in his wheelchair, and now you’re worried about a messy bedroom? If he was still as revved up as she was, he wouldn’t pay any attention to her housekeeping, as long as he could get to the bed.

  As soon as they’d piled into the taxi, wheelchair and all, Nick told the cabbie to step on it.

  Their driver took him at his word and wove around slower vehicles, accelerating whenever a space opened up to get through the next stoplight before it turned red. Despite the clip at which the vehicle moved through traffic, the cabbie apparently felt compelled to chat. Every so often, he’d glance over his shoulder to deliver some snippet of useless chatter.

  Though Nick attempted to resume what they’d started back in her dressing room before Jasper interrupted—running a hand up the inside of her leg and blowing in her ear—the jostling of the cab and their driver’s penchant for conversation thwarted anything more serious from happening.

  When she alighted from the cab, Reese’s nerves felt like frayed electrical wires, off-kilter, erratic, her earlier spontaneous mood dampened.

  “Whew! That was some trip,” Nick commiserated as they rode up in the elevator. “Having my own car and driver, I’ve forgotten how life-threatening taxi rides can be.”

  Reese couldn’t keep from asking, “You still want to do this?”

  Nick took her hand, his thumb massaging the pad of her palm, and the earlier connection she’d felt to him rekindled. “What do you think?”

  What did she think? That despite Trudy’s warnings not to get mixed up with their host, despite Leonie the Lioness’ best efforts to put her down to her nephew, and despite her near celibacy the last few years, she was going to get involved with this guy. If only for the rest of today, and maybe tonight, if she was lucky, better sense was going on sabbatical. Living for the moment was moving in. “I think this elevator can’t get us there fast enough.”

  As soon as she’d wheeled him into her apartment, he grabbed her hand again and pulled her around to face him. “If I weren’t laid up in this contraption, I’d swoop you up in my arms and show you that our spontaneous, uh, celebration back in your dressing room wasn’t just your imagination. Since that’s not possible today, I’m at your mercy.” He spread his arms like a detained prisoner. “Have your way with me.” His boyish grin held both an invitation and a challenge.

  She couldn’t waver now. “Wow. A girl doesn’t receive a blank check like that very often.” She inspected the contraption, walking around it, sticking a hand through the limited space between one of the arms and the seat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I like to finish what I start, but I don’t think the two of us facing each other in that thing will work.”

  A knowing look changing to one of regret came into his eyes. “Too bad. That would’ve been…memorable. Got any other ideas?” He gazed up at her expectantly.

  Her mind reached for possibilities. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d entertained a man in her apartment. The floor, a kitchen chair, the sofa? She just wanted to keep the momentum going before Nick lost interest or she lost her nerve. Easiest solution? Her bed.

  “My boudoir.” She didn’t give him a chance to reply as she pushed him through her small living room to her bedroom. She helped him out of the chair and settled on one side. When he started to lean back, she said, “No. Stay like that.”

  He raised a brow.

  “Not quite the wheelchair, but we can simulate how it might have been.”

  “I like how you think, lady.”

  The room temp felt like the AC had never come on today. She tugged at the collar of her jacket. She unbuttoned the garment, folded it quickly and set it aside. The action was freeing, like a snake shedding its skin to move ahead to a new life. She shook out her hair, then fluffed it. “That’s better.”

  Nick eyed the snug white tee the removal of the jacket had revealed. “Much. That’s all that’s coming off?”

  She stared him down. “As a matter of fact, these slacks are a bit confining as well.” She kicked off her clogs and then made quick work of unzipping and stepping out of her pants, forget folding them, simply throwing them off to the side. Her top came down to her waist, leaving three inches of skin showing above a pair of lacy white bikini panties. She’d never stripped for a man. The fewer clothes she wore, the more her confidence, along with her pulse rate, increased.

  “Big improvement.” His dusky eyes were also appreciative.

  “Thanks.” His rapt attention gave her a rush. She pivoted to show off her backside.

  Turning back to Nick, she asked, “How about you? You must be roasting in that long-sleeved shirt.”

  “I am, but with this damned wrist, I could use a little assistance.”

  “At your service.” She climbed onto his lap, facing him. Straightening in her seat, a slight movement beneath gave her all the encouragement she needed to proceed.

  Their faces were only inches apart. She breathed in the scent of his musky cologne blending with the smell of male, the overpowering effect causing her to sway a bit. His hypnotic blues eyed her intently. She couldn’t turn away, drawn as she was to the look of raw desire that stared back at her. Though he didn’t speak, she heard his message loud and clear. “I want you. Here. Now.”

  His good hand, as if hoisted by some invisible puppet-master, reached slowly for a section of hair that fell along the side of her face. He combed his fingers through it gradually until they reached the ends, then he repeated the process.

  Waves of heat consumed her scalp, as if the very follicles were on fire.

  He brought the strand to his nose and inhaled. “God, that smells good. Like you shampooed in a field of lavender.” His voice had assumed a different quality, lower, throatier.

  “Th-thanks.”

  He released the lock of hair and looked back at her again. “Your hair was the first thing I noticed that night you ran out of Solange. No, I take that back. I noticed your rear first. How that incredible ass swung from side to side as you charged past me. When you pulled off that hair net, these glorious locks fell around your head like a black veil. I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt you and your boss, I was so engrossed watching you.”

  She wriggled, yet again sensing the power poised below the ass he’d admired.

  He drew her hair back and zeroed in on her neck. “This pale column caught my eye too.” His fingertips barely grazed the area behind her ear, but his touch made all the tiny hairs on her neck stand at attention.

  She was supposed to be having her way with him, yet he was making her crazy. She was down to bra, panties and T-shirt and he was admiring her hair and neck? And heating up a
body that had already reached the boiling point.

  “Are you ever going to kiss me, Nick?”

  He shifted away from her neck to face her again. “Impatient, aren’t you?”

  “When I know what I want, yes.” She didn’t wait for him but instead covered his mouth with her own and showed him what she meant.

  He returned the kiss with the same intensity. But at length, he pulled away, attempting to catch his breath. “Slow down, sweetheart. We’ve got the whole day to do this right.”

  “Agreed. But right now, I’ve got this itch that needs to be scratched, and I can’t wait while you complete your examination of my anatomy. My God, you’re only at the neck!” In one swift jerk, she stripped out of her tee, just so he knew she meant business. Then she started to remove his shirt.”

  “Okay, I get the message.” He helped her get the shirt off, and while she was tossing it aside, reached around her and unhooked her bra. Bad wrist or not, his expertise was clearly evident.

  He sat back at the sight of her naked chest. “Whoa! Hold up. Give a guy a chance to admire the landscape.”

  She supposed she could wait for him to take in what she usually tried so hard to disguise beneath her chef’s jacket. Meanwhile, his bare chest wasn’t such a turnoff either. In fact, she had to gulp just looking at the well-developed pecs and wide shoulders, her mouth watering at the thought of touching them. And more.

  Nick placed both hands on her breasts. “No wonder you wanted me to get on with it. These needed attention.” No more fingertips, light stroking, or agonizingly slow caresses. He meant to admire her up close and personal, and that’s exactly what he did for several mind-blowing minutes.

  Reese had been groped by high school boys anxious to get a feel and engaged in more intense sexual encounters in later years, but Nick’s appreciation was quite another matter. At length, his breath coming heavily, his lips wet, he managed to say, “You…are…incredible.”