Huddle with Me Tonight (Kimani Romance)

by Farrah Rochon

  “You have nothing to fear.” Torrian reached between them and took her hand. He ran his fingers over her skin. “Once we start, you’ll forget those cameras are even there.”

  She doubted it, but the low timbre of his voice lulled her into almost believing there was some truth to his words. Delicious warmth radiated from where his fingers touched her.

  “But if I don’t, you’ll make sure I don’t look like an idiot, right?”

  “You couldn’t look like an idiot if you tried,” Torrian said, his voice still low, not quite seductive but definitely in the neighborhood.

  John came back into the green room. He held up a clipboard. “I’m still learning,” he apologized. “We’re going to open up with a five-and-a-half-minute interview with the both of you on the main set. We’ll go into the background of the blog controversy, and what makes you two such great adversaries.”

  “Actually,” Torrian said, “Paige and I discussed this, and we’d rather not be seen as adversaries.”

  “But that’s the whole point of the cook-off,” John said, clearly deflated.

  “It’s what gave you all the idea for the cook-off,” Torrian reminded him. “We’d rather make this more about the charities than the little thing that happened on her blog.”

  “I know that, but—”

  Torrian shook his head. Paige recognized that conciliatory smile. She’d seen him use it on reporters who tried to pry personal information out of him during interviews. John was going to get about as far as those interviewers got, which wasn’t very far at all.

  “Look,” Torrian said, “New Yorkers know what to expect from Torrian Smallwood, and it’s not some guy who spars with a woman, especially one as beautiful as Paige.” The smile he sent her was more genuine, and caused Paige’s breath to hitch. He was laying on the charm, but Paige had a feeling it was no longer just for John’s benefit. “We want to make it clear that there’s no more bad blood lingering because of her blog. And whatever bantering we do on camera will be good-natured fun. Right, Paige?”

  “Yes.” Paige nodded.

  “Don’t worry; your viewers will still be entertained,” Torrian assured him.

  “I should give the anchor a heads-up, just in case some questions need to be adjusted,” John said, heading back out the door.

  Paige crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “How did you manipulate that entire situation right before my eyes?”

  “They’re going to get their ratings no matter what,” Torrian answered. “But it won’t be at the expense of either of our reputations.”

  He said it as if they were a team; the two of them against the big bad media.

  “So, is that what we’re striving for, good-natured bantering?”

  He smiled that smile again; the one where the corner of his mouth lifted up just a bit. It made something tremble at the base of her stomach. “I think we’ve moved past the bickering stage, don’t you?”

  “There are stages at play here?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. He leaned an inch closer. Then another. “There are those milestones two people encounter as they fight the attraction building between them. Just to be clear, I’m no longer fighting it, but since you are, I’ll lay them out for you.

  “First, they try to fight it.” He leaned closer. “Then they think if they just forget about it, it’ll all go away. Finally, they acknowledge it. One may still shy away, but it becomes pretty clear that there’s no use. The attraction between us is even more intense, so I doubt it’ll take long to reach the ultimate goal.”

  His decadent voice had reached a new level of seduction.

  “Why are you doing this?” Paige asked, though she already knew the answer. She’d known it from the minute their eyes connected. The attraction between them was tangible, a thick, cloaking presence that drugged her senses. Paige realized stage fright should be the least of her worries—being pulled in by the desire in Torrian’s eyes was much more deadly.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” he said. He took her chin in his hand and lowered his mouth to hers.

  The instant his soft, sensual mouth touched hers Paige’s entire body ignited. Slowly, decadently, he brushed his lips back and forth, teasing her senses and feeding the desire that had been building within her for days. His kiss was delicate, but it quickly became dangerous when he angled his head and urged her lips to part. As soon as they did, Torrian’s tongue pushed its way into her mouth.

  His tongue stroked in a wickedly insistent rhythm, thrusting against her own and reminding Paige of everything that had been missing in her life for so very long. The feeble protest her brain tried to conjure was no match for the assault being waged against her senses with such carnal skill. As his tongue dipped in and out, Paige couldn’t help the erotic images that flashed through her mind. Images of her body draped over Torrian’s as their erotic kiss led to something more.

  With a reluctance that came through loud and clear with his groan, he pulled away. Paige felt his warm breath on her face as he whispered, “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Her eyes flew open, but before she had a chance to form a coherent thought, John came back through the door. “Makeup is ready,” he said.

  Paige forced herself to shake off the remnants of their kiss as she tried to focus her mind on the interview that was about to take place. It felt as if the knots in her stomach were twisting and tying, turning her insides into a tangled mess. Had Torrian done that just to rattle her? No, he probably thought his kiss would help to lessen her distress about being in front of the camera. But he was wrong, and Paige had a feeling her nervousness over the interview would pale in comparison to the new anxiety Torrian’s sensual kiss had created within her.

  Chapter 11

  Torrian cocked one leg atop the opposite knee and stretched his arm across the back of the loveseat. If she questioned him later, he would tell Paige he adopted the pose because he wanted to foster a feeling of relaxed camaraderie between them.

  In all honesty, he just wanted to touch her.

  He’d been bowled over by the vulnerability he’d witnessed when she pleaded with him to take over if she got stage fright. He wanted to wipe that fear from her eyes; to protect her.

  He looked over and noted Paige’s stiff, set jaw. He squeezed her shoulder. “Relax,” he said. “Take a deep breath. Remember, it’s like you’re having a conversation with a few people.”

  “And half of New York,” Paige said.

  “Forget the cameras,” Torrian reiterated. “Pretend they’re not even here. Look at this.” He motioned to the set. “It’s like we’re in a living room talking with friends.”

  Paige sucked in a lungful of air and let it out with a whoosh. “Okay,” she said with a self-assured nod of her head. “Wow, I actually feel…better.”

  “You have to learn to trust me,” he said, giving her shoulder another squeeze. She had yet to knock his hand away, one notch in the plus column.

  The news anchor came running toward them, one of the hairdressers close on her heels. She sat in the comfy armchair and asked, “Are we ready?”

  Paige flung his hand from her shoulder and shifted a few inches away from him. He bit back a smile.

  “We are now,” Torrian answered.

  The hairdresser sprayed the anchor’s hair, flipped a curl, and dashed out of the way.

  “Here we go,” the anchor said, then immediately turned to the camera straight ahead. “Welcome back. This morning, we have a real treat for our viewers. The juiciest gossip to hit New York in the last few weeks has been the online war between popular entertainment columnist, Paige Turner, and Sabers wide receiver, Torrian Smallwood. The two have decided to bring their battle into our studios here at Channel 10.”

  The anchor finished her introduction, then turned to Paige and Torrian.

  “We’ve all read the review that started all of this, Paige. What was it about Torrian’s book that you hated so much?”

  Torrian sensed her stiffen
but then relax. “Actually, Stephenie, I think people have blown this entire situation out of proportion. I didn’t hate Torrian’s book per se. Did I have a few issues with it? Sure. But hate it?” Paige shook her head.

  Torrian had not realized his muscles had tensed so much until he let out a breath, and the tension with it.

  Paige continued. “I think this is another case of me writing what I thought was a funny, tongue-in-cheek review, only to find that my words were taken completely out of context.”

  “I think that’s happened to all of us a time or two,” the anchor replied. She turned her attention to him. “Unfortunately for you, Torrian, when it happens to a well-known celebrity, the ripple effects last much longer.”

  “Yes, they do,” Torrian answered. “I guess I have a bit of learning to do. I think there’s still hope for me, if Paige is willing to help.”

  She actually blushed. It was gorgeous on her.

  “Well, all of New York is still buzzing about your online skirmish, and we’re all anxious to see who comes out on top in your battle in the kitchen.”

  “I have my own prediction,” Torrian answered, “but there’s only one way to find out.”

  The anchor looked into the camera. “Thankfully, for us, New York, the wait is almost over. Stay tuned for round one of Playing with Fire.”

  The anchor took out her ear piece. “That was good,” she said. “I was a bit concerned when John said we wouldn’t be working the sworn-enemies angle, but I think viewers will like this more. Good luck in the kitchen today,” she said.

  John left his post next to the cameraman. “The kitchen is almost ready,” he said. “You’ll both need to be there in the next five minutes.”

  Paige pushed up from the sofa, and Torrian quickly followed her. “That was painless, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “Almost.” She laughed. “I hate to admit it, but you were right. I probably would have been a lot less comfortable if we were duking it out during that interview. Things flowed a lot better without the fighting.”

  “The one thing I don’t want to do with you is fight,” Torrian said.

  He stared down at her and allowed the desire that had been building within him to show in his eyes. He wanted to make sure there was no mistaking what he had in mind.

  He wanted her.

  She held his gaze, her lips slightly parted, understanding, naked and raw, in her eyes.

  “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” she panted.

  “What do you think?” Torrian asked.

  John came up to them. “We’re ready to start.” He ushered them toward the kitchen.

  When Torrian arrived at his cooking station, the ingredients for his crepes were portioned in a half dozen small stainless steel bowls and arranged around the cook top. They had been told beforehand that they could cook the food that would be judged off-air, but Deirdre had warned that the crepes would be rubbery if he made them ahead of time. The filling was ready, and the plates were decorated with curly green garnish, but to secure a win, Torrian would have to get the crepes done during their cooking segment.

  Paige took her place behind her stove. She seemed to have recovered from the moment that had passed between them. She picked up the blue-and-white pin-striped apron with the KWEZ Channel 10 logo etched into the center and pulled it over her head, tying it in the back.

  She looked over at him and expelled a dramatic sigh. “Please put that apron on.”

  Torrian’s head flew back with a crack of laughter. He tied his apron around his waist. “Are you still not going to tell me what you’re cooking?”

  “Nope,” she said. “You’ll find out when the rest of New York does.”

  “It had better be good,” he warned. “I predict my dish is going to be the most popular appetizer on the menu at my restaurant.”

  “Well, I predict you’ll be asking me for my recipe once we’re done today,” she said with an extra sweet smile.

  Torrian returned the smile. “We’ll see about that.”

  Paige didn’t know what happened, but as soon as the camera started rolling every bit of anxiety she’d been feeling vanished. The light banter Torrian had promised occurred naturally between them.

  The camera was focused on him at the moment. He spoke to the audience with a presence that commanded attention.

  “The key when making crepes is to make sure you spread the batter evenly,” Torrian said as he used the bottom of the ladle to smooth the thin batter. “You have to keep your eyes on them because they’ll burn in an instant.”

  He flipped the crepe over, and Paige couldn’t help but be impressed by its perfect coloring.

  “Spoon about three teaspoons of the spinach and artichoke mixture into the center of each crepe and fold the sides over.” He folded the paper-thin pancakes. “I see you drooling over there,” he said, looking up from his task long enough to send Paige a sly, impossibly sexy grin. “Don’t worry, there’s enough for you.”

  “They do look pretty,” Paige said, “Unfortunately for you, I believe our judges have taste buds.”

  “Ouch.” He put a hand to his chest. “You mind keeping your daggers on your side of the kitchen?”

  “Sorry, but the truth does hurt,” Paige answered with exaggerated sorrow.

  “Just for the record, I added a little crow to your crepe. I have a feeling you’ll be eating some pretty soon.”

  “Good one.” Paige pointed her finger at him. “Gotta love your confidence.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she added garnish to her dish. “Of course, confidence is about the only thing you have going for you, because those crepes won’t get you very far.”

  “Can someone please get the knives away from her?” he called out, his eyes roaming around the studio as if searching for someone to come to his aid. There was a flurry of laughter around the set.

  The camera cut back to the news desk. The morning anchor, who was still grinning, said, “We’ll see who our celebrity judges choose as the first-round winner in this most spirited kitchen battle.”

  Torrian walked over to her, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You got over that camera shyness pretty quickly.”

  “I did,” Paige agreed. “This has been more fun than I thought it would be.”

  “The cooking or the cheap shots you keep taking at me?”

  “Oh, definitely the cheap shots.” She chuckled. She leaned toward him. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I hate to cook.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m available as your target. This would be torture if you had no one to grill.”

  “It’s nothing personal.” Paige continued to grin. “You are being a good sport about all of this. Just let me know if I go too far.”

  “You’d have to get a lot nastier to reach too-far status,” Torrian answered. “Compared to what I have to put up with from reporters, you’re being downright friendly.”

  “You do shoulder a lot of criticism, don’t you?” The realization caused Paige to feel a twinge of regret for some of the things she’d said to him.

  Torrian shrugged it off. “It comes with the territory. I guess I didn’t realize it would be more of the same with the book and restaurant. Maybe I should be thanking you. Now I know what’s to come from other food and book critics.”

  “Not necessarily,” Paige said. She couldn’t keep the wry smile from surfacing. “After all the heat you’ve taken over my review, I’m sure all the other critics will take it easy on you.”

  “You may be right.” He paused, then continued. “I’m happy you decided to do the show. We have a natural rapport once those cameras start to roll.”

  “That seems to be the case,” Paige agreed, her eyes locked with his. She felt herself staring, but even when she tried to pull away, her brain wouldn’t let her. “I think viewers will respond to this better than they would have responded to a formal apology. We’re actually showing them that there are no hard feelings between us.”

  “So, there are none
?”

  “Hard feelings? I thought we already took care of that.”

  “I still wasn’t sure,” Torrian said. He stepped closer, leaned in, and with a whisper, said, “Maybe if you actually accepted a dinner invitation from me, it would convince me.”

  Paige stopped short. A rush of heat flowed over her skin at the hushed, sensual tone in his voice.

  “C’mon, Paige?” he continued, his warm, moist breath like a tantalizing wisp of sensation in her ear. “It’s not as if we haven’t gone out to dinner before.”

  “That was by accident,” she said, infinitely grateful her voice did not crack. “And I told you then that there could be nothing between us.”

  “I didn’t like your reason.”

  Paige forced herself to break out from under the sensual web his nearness had woven around her. She knew what was at stake if she allowed herself to be seen with Torrian in anything other than a professional light. If she landed that syndication deal, people would automatically think she’d used his celebrity to make it happen.

  “What’s the real reason you won’t go out with me?” Torrian asked.

  Paige stepped away from him, needing the physical distance to clear her head. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said. “This is just the way it is; the way it has to be. I hope you can accept that.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  The urgency in his voice caused Paige’s head to whip around. She found nothing but raw honesty in his hazel eyes.

  He glanced over to the stagehand who was setting up the table where the three judges would judge their recipes in the next segment. Torrian grabbed her elbow and gently tugged her toward the back of the set.

  “Paige, I haven’t been able to think about anything but you for days,” he admitted. “It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. You can’t expect me to ignore this.”

  Paige closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. Need burned deep within her chest. A part of her wanted to say to hell with professionalism. So what if everyone thought she’d only glommed on to Torrian because of his celebrity? She knew differently. Why deny them both the chance to explore the heat that had erupted between them simply because she was afraid of what others would say?