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And He Cooks Too

Page 15

by Barbara Barrett


  She trailed a finger across those lips, dabbing at the moisture. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Her finger continued its path down his chin, past his Adam’s apple, which twitched as she made contact, and southward through the hard valley of his sternum and on down the furry path of his abdomen to his waist. She checked his expression.

  “Do it.”

  Though a novice at removing a man’s trousers, she released the button and unzipped him with great dispatch, all the while her hand absorbing the staggering heat generated by his body and feeling the rock hard bulge beneath.

  Nick struggled to rid himself and Reese of the rest of their clothes. “Gonna need some help here, sweetheart, if you want to keep sitting there.”

  Somewhere inside her, instinct passed down by centuries of seductive female ancestors told her not to make this easy for him. He’d appreciate the result if he had to work for it. Eyelids lowered, she breathed out, “I suppose we could give in to the conventional and roll onto the bed. But I like this better. Don’t you?”

  She didn’t give him time to decide but instead lifted her buttocks just enough to get a purchase on her panties and wiggled out of them one leg at a time.

  Buck naked, she straddled him, her legs parted in heated invitation, the current emptiness inside her pulsating in expectation. She actually ached for him to take her. If there had been any question in Nick’s mind about her willingness to offer herself to him before this, there could be no doubt now.

  She stared into his blues. “Your turn.” With one hand, she balanced on the side of the bed and gripped the top of his trousers and briefs together, inching them down a few inches.

  “Wait!”

  He’d changed his mind? Please no. Not with her body so primed.

  “My right pocket. Get the condom.”

  Oh. Good idea. She’d totally spaced on that detail.

  Emboldened, she continued to remove his pants. Her breath caught, as his package emerged, enlarged and ready for action. She wanted to shout to the heavens as she felt him stiffen, grow even harder beneath her, but her voice wouldn’t work. Her insides quivered as she felt herself grow slick.

  She slid his pants and briefs down around his ankles. He kicked his good leg out, leaving the pants pooling around his booted ankle.

  She glanced up to find him watching her, his eyelids heavy. “You are spectacular,” he said, his voice croaky. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  He pulled her closer, as if that was possible, his hands seemingly everywhere at once. His lips covered her mouth, demanding, bruising. He entered her easily, whispering, “Oh, babe,” as he drove into her.

  Reese could only moan, words still impossible.

  Everything to this point, though staggering to the senses, was prelude. Her body exploded at the sensation of being possessed and possessing him. Though still totally conscious of every thrust, her mind floated, taking her to a level of pleasure she had never known. She felt so desirable and complete. She didn’t want this to end.

  But at last, both of them spent, she collapsed against his perspiring chest, the rapid beating of his heart throbbing in sync with her own. Reese smiled to herself. She could stay like this forever. The last thing she would have suspected she’d find with Nick would have been peace and security. She’d come to him for hot, uncomplicated sex. And he’d totally delivered. But what now? She didn’t know what to think. All she wanted to do was remain close to him, listening to his heart, riding the rise and fall of his chest.

  As Nick’s breathing settled, he looked her in the eyes, a lazy grin across his face. “That was some idea you had. You’re a great lay.”

  Though meant as a compliment, she supposed, her mood shattered. She looked away as a tiny lump settled in her chest. What had she expected? That he’d confess his overwhelming love for her? Men talked dirty like that, thinking that’s what women wanted to hear. Couldn’t blame Nick. He’d given her exactly what she wanted. And more. She’d just have to shake off those other, deeper feelings. She didn’t need them anyhow.

  He rolled them into the middle of the bed. “My turn to take charge.” And he did. Two more times before she asked, “Are you hungry? I’m famished.”

  “Starved. What are you going to fix me?”

  “Me?”

  “You’re the hostess.”

  True. She rose, grabbed a robe and headed for the kitchen, returning within two minutes. “Uh, this is embarrassing. I don’t have any food.”

  “You, the ever-ready chef?”

  She bit a lip. “You’re forcing me to do something I almost never do.”

  “Now that I want to hear.”

  “We need to order out.”

  Sometime after midnight, pizza box and Chinese food containers strewn about the room waiting to be disposed of in the morning—so unlike her to let these details go—Reese lay in bed watching a very worn-out Nick sleep. Sleep refused to come as she remembered Nick’s final comment as, exhausted, he’d given in to sleep, “I’ve rarely mixed business with pleasure. Probably shouldn’t have this time.” Did he regret this already? Did she?

  What should have been deep, luxurious rest after the most spectacular sex she’d ever experienced, instead turned into fitful, dark dreams that had her jerking awake more than once. Her magnificent Prince Nicholas was imprisoned by Leonie, the wicked witch of the kitchen, in a castle vaguely resembling a TV monitor. No matter how fast Reese stirred, chopped, blended or sautéed, she couldn’t free him.

  Sometime later, through a bleary fog, she sensed Nick’s lips near her ear, whispering, “Sleep tight, my lovely chef. I’ll see you later.”

  In her semiconscious state, she heard the faint metallic sound of Nick attempting to manipulate his wheelchair out of the room, then a sharp rap as he bumped into a small table near the door, knocking something over.

  “You don’t have to steal away,” she croaked. She dragged herself from bed, grabbed blindly for her robe and lunged for the handles on the wheelchair.

  “Didn’t want to wake you.”

  She took him to the elevator and stayed with him until it arrived. Neither spoke, whether that was from the early hour or mutual reticence to break the bond of lovemaking, she didn’t know. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Finally, she broke the silence. “My doorman will help you out of the building and into a cab. It should still be Gordy until seven. Call him by name. He likes that.”

  Before the elevator arrived, she bent and kissed him one last time. It was a long kiss, not terribly passionate but filled with feeling and caring, like it might be their last. At least for some time.

  Just before the elevator doors closed, he called out, “Last night was great.”

  “Great,” he’d said, as he returned to the world of their work relationship. You don’t know the half of it, Nick. She’d let a man back into her life, even if only for one night. For her, the night had been epic.

  ****

  Nick stared at what remained of the Monforts’ gift package and shook his head. Those two overgrown adolescents were probably back to harping at each other, the argument he tried to referee long over with many more having come and gone. And here he was, an ugly black boot and a wheelchair impeding every little thing in his daily life. After six days, he was ready to get rid of them, but at the moment, he needed whatever rest he could muster before James picked him up for the nine o’clock debriefing.

  What man in his right mind made love to a gorgeous, desirable woman like Reese while confined to a wheelchair? After an intense day of taping, no less.

  But that’s not what was bothering him. Reese was irresistible. A man would make love to her any way it was offered. The way she’d jumped in and engaged him in a humorous, light approach to cooking during taping had been remarkable. She’d made the show fun, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He’d been stoked after the taping. His relief at successfully getting through it all had exploded when he kissed her, which led to going home with h
er.

  But he shouldn’t have let it happen. She was going to want more. Hell, he already did. But he couldn’t go there. Once he finessed Reese replacing him, the plan was to get as far away from the show, his aunt and Reese as he could. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep.

  He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. Couldn’t afford to dwell on his night with her now. His body needed to reenergize while his head prepared for the debriefing only hours away. Especially if Leonie deigned to join them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the time Nick reached the studio, whatever energy he’d recouped from his few hours of sleep had disappeared. He nursed his container of coffee as he slumped in his wheelchair, parked against the conference table.

  Despite the lethargy, he’d beaten the others to this meeting. Jasper and Reese had better show up soon, before Leonie appeared. If she showed. He hadn’t heard from her since she disappeared the day before.

  The door opened with Reese pronouncing, “This must be the place.”

  “Where’ve you been?” His words came out like an accusation.

  “I’m ten minutes early.”

  “Sorry. Guess I was worried about having to deal with Leonie on my own.”

  “She’s actually coming?’

  “That she is. I called her this morning,” Jasper said from behind her. “She was incensed I’d even ask.”

  Reese took the seat next to Nick on one side of the table, Jasper moved in across from them. Ideally, Leonie should sit with Jasper to even things out. But that wouldn’t be the case. Leonie always placed herself at the head of the table.

  “Does she know about me co-hosting?”

  Jasper flicked invisible lint from his golf shirt. “Uh, yes. So we won’t have to waste time updating her. On the other hand, since she knows what we did, she’ll be ready to tear it all apart.”

  Nick’s stomach curdled. Only part of that was the drugs. “You still ready to fight for this?” he asked Jasper.

  Jasper squared his shoulders. “More so than ever since I watched the playback again last night. You guys were even better than I thought.” He shifted his gaze to Reese. “Remember what we discussed yesterday, Reese. I’ll do the talking. When I need reinforcements, Nick’s my second. You, my dear, don’t talk. Sit there and look unimpeachable. Like you’re the best thing to come along for all of us in a long while. Because you are.”

  “Okay, Jasper, but—”

  “No buts. As great as your quips were yesterday, we don’t want to do anything to deflect her attention from what we have to tell her today. Are we clear?”

  “Clear.”

  Nick was impressed. Where had Gentle Jasper gone? Leonie didn’t stand a chance while New Jasper walked the Earth.

  Leonie stood draped in the doorway, waiting for their attention. “I’m told I missed quite a show yesterday.”

  “Leonie. Glad you could make it,” Jasper said, rising and striding over to greet her. “The delivery company confirmed that you received the tape I sent by messenger last night. Wasn’t it something? Who’d have thought we could carry off such an audience-grabber without a script?”

  Nick held his breath. None of them believed they’d emerge from this session unscathed. An outburst of tempest proportions stalked the horizon. Trouble was, they didn’t know how or when Leonie would strike.

  His aunt brushed past Jasper and went directly to Reese. “So? You co-hosted this last episode?”

  Reese backed into her chair just a tad, all the while keeping her eyes on Leonie. “That’s right.”

  “Amazing,” Leonie gushed, shaking Reese’s hand. “One would never guess it was your first time.”

  Tiny prickles of disbelief stung the back of Nick’s neck.

  “Thank you,” Reese returned, so far adhering closely to Jasper’s dictate.

  But Leonie wasn’t finished. “We appreciate your assistance in our moment of need.”

  “All without a script,” Jasper reiterated, seizing upon the apparent bonhomie to interject himself. “Both Nick and Reese showed remarkable improvisational skills.”

  Leonie’s smile could have frozen fire. “Uh, yes. That too.” As swiftly as she’d sought out Reese, she turned away and swept into her self-appointed seat at the head of the table. She descended into her throne and folded her hands in her lap, much like any monarch holding court. “I’m sure we’ve kept you from enjoying your day off, Ms. Dunbar. Thank you for coming in for the debriefing. You may go now.”

  Under the table, Nick placed a restraining hand on Reese’s knee, reminding her to keep silent, at the same time reminding him of the familiarities they’d shared just hours before.

  Jasper countered. “Actually, Leonie, since Nick’s doctor told him to expect a recuperation time of several weeks, we’re going to need Reese’s assistance a bit longer.”

  His turn. “Jasper was right to rein me in yesterday. I couldn’t have made it through three tapings on my own.”

  “And we would have had to postpone this week’s show if it hadn’t been for Reese,” Jasper added.

  So far, they seemed to be laying out a reasonable case for keeping her on. But Leonie McCutcheon didn’t deal with reason, unless it worked to her own advantage.

  The executive producer’s back went ramrod straight in her chair. “Yesterday was an emergency. We had to think fast and use the best of only a few options available at the moment.”

  We? Leonie had deserted the ship when she couldn’t get her own way.

  Before Jasper or Nick could reply, Leonie continued, “We have more time to plan for the next show.” She turned wide green eyes on Nick. “Perhaps it’s time to experiment with some of those ideas you’ve been spouting, dear.”

  Great. Now she wanted to consider what he’d proposed. She must really feel threatened. “One of those ideas was to get a partner,” he told her.

  Leonie waved away his response with a perfectly manicured hand, the deep red of her nails matching her beet red jacket. “I was thinking more in terms of adding new segments to the show.” She brightened. “What about that review-a-restaurant theme?” she asked, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

  Jasper came over to huddle near Reese and Nick. “Leonie! I can’t believe you’re suggesting we put this guy,” he clapped a hand on Nick’s back, “through anything other than minimal program changes while he’s functioning on only half his strength.”

  “I agree. This isn’t the time to be experimenting. Beyond adding Reese to the mix, that is. It’s all I can do to manipulate the wheelchair on my own.” That wasn’t for sympathy. It was just to point out the huge disadvantage he was contending with.

  Leonie sprang from her chair and was instantly at Nick’s side, touching his arm. “Of course I realize you’re not up to par yet, darling, but it’s amazing how well you’re doing. You’ve really come a long way in just a few days.”

  She flitted away before Nick could comment, returning to stand behind her seat. “Perhaps it’s time to exercise that indisposed clause in your contract. What do you think, Jasper? Could we put the show on hiatus for two, three weeks while Nick recovers?”

  Now she was willing to hold off taping? After he was almost dragged out of bed the day before and with the network supposedly so interested in them? “I don’t think that will be necessary. All we have to do is repeat what worked yesterday.”

  “Which would be everything but the theme and menu,” Jasper added.

  “And those are already mapped out for the next several episodes,” Nick put in. “We’re in great shape.” So untrue.

  Apparently forgetting Jasper’s admonition, Reese started to chime in about future shows, but Nick squeezed her knee again before she got out two words. Although the unanticipated pressure caused her to jerk, his prompt worked, and she sat back in her chair.

  Leonie examined her nails. “Yesterday’s success was a fluke. Beginner’s luck. I doubt we could pull it off a second time.”

  The old
girl didn’t give up easily. But she had also begun to use the we pronoun instead of you. She was coming around. In time, she would have switched everything around to sound like it had been her idea in the first place.

  Like a defense attorney about to present his summation to the jury, Jasper returned to the chair across from them but remained standing behind it. “Others don’t think it was a fluke.”

  Leonie yanked her head up. “Others?”

  He removed a small packet from inside his jacket. “I was so excited about yesterday’s taping, I sent a preview to our sponsors as well as the station manager. Just to reassure them we were carrying on in spite of Nick’s injury.”

  Nick sat forward, almost forgetting he was a prisoner of his wheelchair. “Great idea, Jasper. Farsighted.”

  “Foolish,” Leonie replied, her voice rising. She turned away from them.

  “Perhaps,” Jasper admitted. “But—” dramatic pause followed by a broad smile—”they loved it! Couldn’t believe how we turned an almost certain disaster into something so—” he stopped, seemed to consider, “how did they refer to it? Extraordinary, that’s it.” His smug smile spoke for itself.

  Nick bobbed his head, the fingers on the hand he’d removed from Reese’s knee tap-dancing frantically on the table. “Extraordinary,” he repeated, almost giddy.

  Jasper held up a finger. “And…the verdict is to keep on doing what we did yesterday. At least for a few more shows.”

  Leonie swung around to face them. “Put your finger down, Jasper. You’ve made your point.” Her voice had assumed a different tone. Not quite resignation, and definitely not defeat, but the usual arrogance was missing.

  “Don’t sound so deflated, Leonie. This is a good thing. They’re suddenly interested in the show,” Jasper reminded her.

  “Jasper’s right,” Nick agreed. “We hardly had time to breathe before taping started yesterday. Now, we’ve got several days before the next show. No telling how much better it will be, but I’m pumped. Can’t wait to get started.”

  Leonie moved over to the windows, her back to the rest of them. She stood there, slowly rubbing her hands together.

 

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