by James, Anna
She nodded. “They were one of the first things I created after I got my internship with Christina D’Agata.”
“As in the clothing designer?”
Her eyebrows arched up. “You’ve heard of her?”
He shrugged. “I recognize the name. I attended a fashion show in New York a few years ago, a charity event to raise money for childhood diseases. Christina D’Agata was one of the designers whose creations were showcased.”
Nicole remembered the event. How could she not? One of her gowns had been slated to be featured on the runway. Only it never happened. Yes, the show had gone on, but where was she when the opportunity of a lifetime had presented itself? Sitting in a jail cell being browbeaten by the local and federal authorities to provide the names of her accomplices, that was where. Too bad they didn’t believe her when she told them she wasn’t involved in the illegal trafficking. “What were you doing there?”
He sighed. “Angela chaired the fundraising committee. She put the show together.” He waved a hand, dismissing the subject. “Tell me more about your internship.”
“There’s not much to tell. I interned over the summer between my junior and what should have been my senior year of college. Christina liked my work and we got along well. She offered me a permanent position and I took it. Unfortunately, my parents were not as thrilled by my new job as I was. They got angry with me for leaving school. So much so that my father and I didn’t speak for months.”
“Then you had to come home after the accident?”
She shook her head. “I came home two months before the accident happened. Ashley seems to forget that part. The truth is things didn’t work out in New York the way I’d hoped they would. So I came home. End of story. What about you?”
“What do you want to know?”
“For starters, tell me how Paradis and McNamara came to be.”
Max shrugged. “I worked my way through college doing construction and when I finally graduated I opened my consulting company. It was slow going for a lot of years. Then, with Reed’s help, I landed a major contract. Business continued to boom and I made Reed a partner.”
“Reed said you sold him your share of the business a year ago.”
A muscle in his neck jerked. “Yes.”
Max sighed. Why had he started this conversation? He should have realized she’d ask about his past when he’d asked about hers. So what was he supposed to tell her? He’d sold out and gotten the hell out of town because after making the deal with Angela he couldn’t handle facing Eve every day or the reminder of what a fool he’d been?
He’d kept his end of the bargain. Eve had quit on her own. He hadn’t fired her. And Angela . . . He shuddered. If the kiss she’d planted on Eve the other night at the college was any indication, he didn’t think she’d stay quiet about the real reason for the divorce much longer.
He’d be humiliated. Again. Bile roiled in his gut. Not going there.
“Will you come back to Paradis and McNamara now that you’re home?” Nicole asked.
He shook his head. “I’m looking for a new business venture, although I agreed to help Reed out when the wedding comes around and while they’re on their honeymoon.”
“Do you have anything in mind?”
“I’ve got a few possibilities. I’ll have to see where they lead.” He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “In the meantime”—he reached inside the breast pocket of his suit coat and pulled out two vouchers—“These came in the mail today. I’m wondering if you might join me?”
She gazed down into his hands and her eyes widened. “How did you get these? Tickets don’t go on sale for another week or so.”
“Not if you’re a baseball season ticket holder. They’re for Opening Day. What do you say?”
A smile lit her eyes. “Are you kidding me? I say yes, I’d love to join you.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said when they arrived back at Nicole’s house several hours later.
She grinned. “And here I thought gentlemen were a lost breed.”
“Not at all.”
They walked up the short flagstone path that led to the front porch. When they reached the front door, she said, “I had a great time tonight.”
So had he. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself as much. Pulling her into his arms, he dropped a kiss on her lips. “I want to see you again, tomorrow night.”
She sighed. “I can’t. I have to work at the restaurant.”
Damn. “Tomorrow afternoon then.”
She shook her head. “I need to spend tomorrow working on Ashley’s dress. Reed is taking her back to school on Sunday night.”
“Then have dinner with me on Sunday night.”
“Sunday is family dinner day. I’m making a leg of lamb.”
He sighed. “Right.”
“Maybe you can come over and I can teach you to cook?” she asked hopefully.
He flashed a wolfish grin. “Darlin’, I already know how to cook.”
Her husky laugh had a bolt of desire zinging through him. He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again.
“Food, Max, you can help me cook the food.”
His eyebrow winged up.
She grinned. “No, really, it’ll be fun. Besides, I’m making my chocolate lovers’ cake for dessert and I wanted to try a new little twist. I could use a taste tester.”
“Now you’re talking. What time should I be here?”
“Is nine o’clock too early? It’ll take almost three hours for the lamb to cook and we’ll have to make the cake first. Ashley and Reed have to leave by three so I need to have dinner on the table no later than one-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
“It’s a date then.”
He nodded, then crushed her lips with his again.
“You two really need to get a room.”
He released her and glowered as Reed moved past him. “I should probably go.”
“Yeah,” she said.
He gave her one last kiss, then turned to leave. The sound of female laughter and wolf whistling floated out the open door and made him smile.
Nicole went inside and glared at her sisters. “Oh, just shut up.”
Kate smirked. “That was one hell of a kiss.”
She flashed a satisfied smile. Oh yes, it was. “Good night, you two. Pleasant dreams.”
More laughter and wolf whistles followed her as she headed up the stairs.
Her cell phone buzzed. Maybe it was Max? She grabbed it from her purse, eager to read the new text message.
Tick-tock, tick-tock. Time is running out, Nicole. I hope you enjoyed your dinner at The Capital Grille. I want my money and I want it soon or your boyfriend finds out what sort of girl you really are.
Her knees buckled and she gripped the railing for support. One thing was certain. She had to get Carlo out of her life once and for all. But how?
Chapter 11
Nicole stood in the kitchen on Sunday morning setting out the ingredients for the chocolate cake when Max came through the door. She gave him a tentative smile. “Hey there. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Kate left just as I arrived. She said I’d find you in here. Wow, it smells really good already.”
“I decided to put the lamb in the slow cooker. That way we don’t have to rush. Ready to start on the cake?”
Heat blazed in his smoky blue eyes. “Not yet. Come here.”
A shiver ran down her spine as her gaze locked with his. The man just oozed sex appeal. One smoldering look from him sent her hormones into overdrive and got her hot and bothered in seconds.
She moved toward him, her eyes never leaving his.
He gazed at her for a moment and then
frowned. “You didn’t sleep well last night.”
No, she hadn’t. Barely a wink since she’d gotten the text from Carlo the night before last, and she still hadn’t come up with a plan to get rid of him without him divulging her secret.
His thumb caressed her cheek and the tenderness in his eyes had a lump forming at the back of her throat.
“You’ve got too much on your plate. Maybe you should think about giving something up.”
She stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“Promise me you’ll find time to get some rest.”
She nodded. “I will.”
His arms wrapped around her and he flashed a sexy smile. “Now, where was I?”
He gave her what she liked to call a full-body kiss, the kind where every inch of her pressed intimately against every inch of him and his lips and tongue tangled deliciously with hers. It was the kind of kiss that swept you off your feet, left you breathless and wide-eyed, and just a bit muzzy in the head when it was over.
He winked at her. “Now, I’m ready.”
It took her a few moments to gather herself, then she tossed him an apron and walked back behind the island, making a concerted effort to banish Carlo from her mind, at least for today.
“What do I need this for?” Max asked. “I’m just the taste tester.”
She grinned. “Change of plan. You’re going to make the cake.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t think so. I burn water, remember?”
“You made gravy last weekend and you didn’t burn that.”
“But, you’re the expert here, not me,” he insisted.
She walked over and slung her arm around his waist. “How about we make it together?” she said.
He stared down at her with another of his imperious glances. “You had this planned all along. Lured me in with the promise of sweet confections.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Maybe.” She grasped his hand and pulled him the rest of the way to the island. “Come on, I promise it will be fun.”
He tilted his head to the side as if considering. “You know you’re right.”
She eyed him speculatively. “That was too easy. What gives?”
He grinned. “I’m going to love teaching you how to play golf.”
“It’ll be more like a lesson in frustration for you. Professionals have tried, and failed, miserably.”
He came up from behind her, placed his hands on her hips, and brushed his lips against the crook of her neck. “It’s all about perfecting your stance,” he whispered into her ear.
She drew in a quick breath as his thumbs slid to the center of her back and traced a path up her spine. Her body tilted the tiniest bit and her shoulders and head rolled forward.
“That’s it,” he said in a low, husky voice then glided his hands over her shoulders.
She gasped when he ran his palms down the length of her arms and his thumbs grazed over the outside swell of her breasts.
He drew her hands together in front of her, then pressed his chest to hers and whispered, “We’ll work on your swing next time.”
He eased away but she didn’t move, couldn’t, because once again he’d reduced her to a mass of jangling nerve endings. If he could create these sensations in her when she was fully clothed what would it be like when they got naked together? And if she started thinking along those lines they’d never get anything done.
She finally stood and found Max leaning on the counter trying to steady his ragged breathing. Her lips curved into a satisfied feline smile knowing he’d been as affected by the sensual byplay as she. “Ready to make that cake now?”
He gave her another of his imperious glances.
She laughed. “We’re going to make the batter first. Grab the bowl I set on the counter next to the bag of flour.”
Max moved to do her bidding.
“The dry ingredients go in first.”
He peered at the items set out on the countertop. “Flour, baking soda, and salt. How much of each?”
She handed him a recipe card. “It’s all right here.”
He nodded. “Got one of those sifter things?”
She arched up her eyebrows and gave him one of his own arrogant looks, and he grinned.
“I confess. I used to bake with my mom when I was a kid, when it was just the two of us, but I haven’t done it in years.”
“What did you help her make?”
“My favorite, chocolate chip cookies. We made them every weekend.” He gave her a considering look, then added, “I guess we had a tradition after all.”
She grinned and set the mixing bowl aside after he added the ingredients. Note to self. Make chocolate chip cookies for Max. “Now, we melt the chocolate.” Moving to the stove, she turned up the double boiler that had been simmering and waited until the water came to a boil.
Max placed the required number of chunks into the pot and watched as they began to melt, then he grabbed the wooden spoon, which he’d stuck in the back pocket of his jeans, and began to stir. His cell phone must have buzzed because he yanked it out of his pocket, glared at the caller ID, and shoved it back in without answering the call.
She stiffened. Oh no, had Carlo somehow gotten Max’s number and called?
Um, paranoid much? the voice inside her derided. So much for putting thoughts of Carlo aside for the day.
Get a grip, girl, before you go off the deep end. “You can go ahead and return the call. I don’t mind.”
He shook his head and returned to his task. “It’s not important.” His competent hands whipped the butter and sugar together, then he went to the stove and checked on the chocolate.
“You’re pretty good at this. I’m starting to think this notion of you burning water is a complete fabrication.”
He snorted. “That’s Reed for you. Little pipsqueak has to rub it in because I kind of burned the Thanksgiving turkey one year. The rest of the meal turned out great. It’s just the turkey was a little overdone.”
He cooked Thanksgiving dinner? Talk about being impressed. Most guys wouldn’t have even tried. “What happened?”
He shook his head. “I forgot to put the damn thing in the oven on time, so I cranked up the temperature to four hundred degrees just to get it started. The trouble was I forgot to turn it down.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Yes, that’ll do it.”
“I’ll say. We wound up chucking two-thirds of the bird. The rest wasn’t bad, though.”
When the chunks melted into a smooth texture Max turned off the heat and set the pot aside. “These days I steer clear of the kitchen.”
But he was here now. With her. “Well, you’re doing great today,” she said.
Max walked back to the counter and glanced down at the recipe card again, then deftly added the moist ingredients to the whipped butter in the required order. “Where’s the vanilla?” he asked.
“This is where we put a new twist on an old family recipe. I’ll be right back.”
She walked into the living room and over to the far corner where an ornate, hand-carved walnut dry bar gleamed against the wall in the late-morning sun.
“This is a beautiful piece of furniture,” Max said and ran a hand over the smooth surface.
“It’s been in my father’s family for generations. I think my great-great-great-grandfather made it.”
“So you inherited your design talent from your great-great-great-grandfather, then.”
She smiled up at him. “Yes, I guess I did.” After fiddling with the old lock, she opened the door and took out a bottle of amaretto liqueur.
Max laughed. “This is your secret ingredient?”
“Yes. I think the amaretto flavor will
enhance the taste of the cake, but we’ll have to wait and see.”
Once they got back in the kitchen Nicole poured a jigger of liquid and handed it to Max. “Add about half to the batter, then we’ll taste it to see if we need more.”
Max added the liquor to the batter, beat it in, then dipped his finger in and tasted. “Needs more.”
Nicole frowned and stuck her own finger in the bowl, but before she could taste the gooey mixture, he snatched her hand and stuck it in his own mouth then sucked on the tip. A wave of desire crashed over her.
His eyes glittered as he gazed down at her.
Everything inside her melted.
Instead of releasing her hand, he placed it on his chest and her senses swam. Before she could stop herself, her fingers had unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it open, and her palms rested on his hard pecs.
He quivered.
It was all the incentive she needed. Her hands glided over every inch of him while her eyes feasted on every muscle and ripple.
He thrust his hand under her shirt, unclipped her bra, and cupped her breast in his hand. She cried out when his thumb brushed over her nipple.
The oven timer dinged, indicating it had heated to the designated temperature.
Screw the cake. “We should take this upstairs,” she said and grabbed his hand.
He froze and shot her a deer-in-the-headlights gaze.
She stared at him nonplussed. What the—?
“Sister in the house,” Kate called.
Max must have heard Kate before she had. Nicole dropped his hand and moved away making sure to refasten her bra and adjust her shirt. What the heck had she been thinking?