All in all, I was a hit. The girls loved me, and by the end of the third class I had a small band of hot and beautiful women following me around and hanging on my every word. They were charmed by my American appeal, my New York attitude and the way I filled out my jeans. Just wait until they see me naked. That’ll probably have their mouths hanging open to get a taste of me. Already, I had Sophia scheduled for Wednesday night; Tania for Thursday; Rebecca for Friday; Colleen for Saturday. Then I’ll take a day to rest before going back to make my ladies happy.
Heading to my fourth class with my entourage swirling around me, I turned the corner and bumped head on into another student. In a flurry of long chocolate hair and the sweep of a white lab coat, she swooped down to recover the clattering of cooking items that I’d knocked from her arms.
“Hey, I’m so sorry,” I said as I bent down to help her.
My entourage quickly scattered and slipped away as they hurried to their respective classes.
“I mean, pardonnez-moi,” I said to the girl in halting French.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said in plain English. Her voice soft, feminine, yet sultry. Damn, I was already aroused.
She looked up at me when our hands met over a saucepan and I was stunned.
“You? How . . . ? What . . . ?”
Equally stunned, she stared at me. “You! That drunken young man on the street? What are you doing here?”
“No. What are you doing here?” I was blown away by how beautiful she was. Her skin had a healthy glow. Her eyes, not blue like I’d first thought, but violet, sparkled with intelligence and wit, and her lips, so ripe and plump, invited a deep and passionate kiss. The memory I’d held of her since that dark and foggy night was nothing compared to the beauty who now faced me.
We rose together.
“You can let go of that now,” she said as she gestured to the large pot we still both clung to.
“Oh. Sure.”
She looked at me, her gaze questioning and curious, but it lacked the quality of the looks I’d been getting from the other girls all day.
She wasn’t charmed. Far from it, she seemed almost eager to get away from me.
I glanced down at the exquisite body hidden beneath the lab coat. A simple black dress barely hugged her curves, but it was enough to let me know she had breasts that would easily fill my hands, a tiny waist that was enticing and sexy hips that promised a seductive ass.
“Why don’t you let me help you with some of those?” I reached out for a pot but she turned away from me.
“I was managing just fine until you ran headlong into me.”
“I said I was sorry. Really, I am.”
“It’s quite understandable. I mean, how can you be expected to see what’s going on in front of you?”
Her voice was so sexy and sultry, it drove me nuts, all the more alluring because it was also feminine and innocent. That innocence had me instantly wanting to wrap my arms around her slim waist to protect her, to possess her. I don’t know what got into me, but suddenly, I wanted to be a caveman with her. To possess her. To spend every waking hour with her. Damn Bobby, I shook my head trying to stay cool. No woman likes a man who loses their cool.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“All of those girls hanging around you. It’s a wonder you’re not bumping into every wall.”
“Oh, them.” I shrugged and tried to laugh it off. “We were just all heading to the same class. That’s all.” I don’t know why I felt the need to justify the horde of girls I’d enjoyed having around until two minutes ago.
“It’s good to know you recovered quite well from your night of debauchery,” she said with a judgmental grin.
“I wouldn’t quite call it . . . I mean, it really wasn’t what you . . .”
What was it about this girl that had me stammering like some novice, like a real amateur? Get a hold of yourself, Cummings. She’s just some girl. You have tons of beautiful sexy girls hanging all over you. You could fuck a different girl every night and still have enough girls to keep you busy for the rest of the year. But my silent little pep talk didn’t help any. I was embarrassed, and couldn’t fully understand why. I loved those girls, those sexy girls with big boobs and plump asses. I loved hanging around every single one of them.
“Look, don’t worry about it,” she said. “What you do with your private time is none of my business.” She headed down the hall and I followed along like a lost and hungry puppy.
“Yeah, sure, I know, but . . . I mean, I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a night of debauchery. Okay, things got a little out of hand, but . . .”
She held her hand up to my face to silence me. “Like I said, what you do with your private time is your business.”
“Well, I just want you to understand that I don’t get drunk and I . . .”
Her arms overflowing with pots and pans, and her impatience churning in her eyes, she stopped at the door to a room and turned to me. “Oh, yes. That’s right. You’re American, aren’t you?”
She made it sound like a bad thing. Still, I nodded.
“I’m guessing you’re not of legal drinking age back home. It’s twenty-one there, right?”
I nodded again.
“And you’re . . .” She looked me up and down. “What? Eighteen?”
“Nineteen.”
She turned the doorknob but left the door barely ajar. “Just like I thought. You’re not really used to the effects of alcohol. You’re not allowed to drink back home so when you get out here it’s all wild parties and fun. You drink too much, too fast and when you’ve had too much, you just can’t handle it. Here we start to drink a little younger. We get a few sips of wine with dinner, then a little more. We learn to enjoy the flavor of good wine all while learning to adapt to the subtle effects of the a little alcohol. I guess you could say we learn to enjoy the pleasures of drinking and the light buzz that comes with it without going crazy and making ourselves sick.”
She was talking to me as if I were some kid. I felt like I was back in high school being reprimanded by a teacher.
“First off,” I said, pulling my shoulders back, “as it turns out, my mom owns a restaurant back in New York, and it just so happens that she serves the best beer in town. Believe me, I’ve indulged more than once before.”
“Good for you.”
Slam me down in the nuts like a punk. Shit, what was this girl doing to me?
“I’m just saying,” I went on. “I know how to hold my liquor. That night when you found me, it’s not what you think.”
She laughed. It was an adorable giggle that tickled me and left me wanting to make her laugh more. I wanted to hear that sound again and again. I tried to think of something witty and comical to say, but I drew a blank.
Damn it.
“It’s never what we think, is it?” she said.
There was something teasing in the way she looked at me that made me want to pull her into my arms and laugh along with her.
“I’m not the kind of guy who goes around looking for trouble.”
“Don’t tell me. Trouble just has a way of finding you.”
Obviously I wasn’t going to convince her that I was a good guy. “Look, in any event, I want to thank you for helping me out. I’m not really sure what happened that night, but I lost it and I don’t really know where I would have ended up if you hadn’t stepped in to help me.”
She chuckled and gave me another up and down glance. “Yeah. you really did lose it, and I apparently found it.”
“Well, it’s a good thing for me you did. I would imagine there aren’t a lot of people out there who would have helped a guy like me.”
Shrugging, she looked up at me and for an instant her eyes warmed to me before reverting to their cool gaze. “It’s the least I could do. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d learned the next day that a young American had been found unconscious on the streets . . . or even worse, dead.”
“That�
��s it?”
“What’s it?”
“That’s the reason you helped me out? Because I’m some helpless American tourist?”
“Well, no. If you’d been a Canadian tourist, or German tourist, Japanese tourist, or any tourist, I would have helped you out all the same.”
I grunted. It wasn’t the answer I was looking for. “You didn’t help me out because I’m a good looking guy and you were attracted to me. You didn’t bring me back to your place because you were sort of hoping that . . . you know . . . we’d. . . .”
Again she gave me an up and down glance, but she took the time to scrutinize me a little too well. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t really get that good a look at you. It was dark, but from what I could see you were pretty green around the gills, you know what I mean.” She shook her head in disgust. “It’s not really a good look on you.”
“Oh.” Damn, I couldn’t remember the last time a girl had made me feel so idiotic. Was I losing my touch? I should have had her wrapped around my little finger by now.
“Besides, how you look has very little impact on whether I would help you out or not. Do you really think I would leave someone out on the street because they look a particular way?”
Stunned, I just stared at her.
“I’m not that shallow.”
“That’s not what I was implying.”
“It’s exactly what you’re implying.” The teasing laughter had left her eyes and her brow furrowed in displeasure as she bumped the door wide open with her hip and entered a large and well lit room.
“Are you trying to win some good Samaritan award or something?” I followed her in. “Running for Mother Theresa? My sister has that title already.”
Setting down the pots and pans on a wide, stainless steel counter, she grunted and looked at me, her brow furrowed even deeper than before. “Running for Mother Theresa? Seriously?”
I stammered, before finally spitting out, “You know what I mean.”
She turned away and poured some liquid into the smaller pot then set it on an individual burner.
“Hey, what is this room?” The counter parallel to where we stood was lined with burners, tubes, vials and an assortment of cooking instruments.
She pulled an apron over her head, wrapped the ties around her waist and knotted it at her back. “It’s a food lab, silly. What does it look like?”
I nodded. “A food lab.” I picked up a jar marked ‘cream of tartar’ then spotted a canister of liquid nitrogen on the floor beside a vacuum cooker, and looked back at her. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I have other talents than playing Mother Theresa in dark alleys at night.”
“I have no doubt, but . . .”
“I work here. I’m an assistant cuisine technician.”
“Wow. Sounds impressive.”
“Well, it helps pay the rent, and I do enjoy it.”
“So what do you do exactly?”
“Try out new products, new techniques. I formulate new recipes. The possibilities are endless and I’m here to discover some of the better possibilities.”
“So what have you discovered?”
She looked at me with a playful frown. “I’ve been working on a few special sauces, but that’s all I can say on the matter for the time being.”
“Oh, secret stuff, huh?”
“It’s really easy to steal a recipe. When we find something new and innovative that works, we try to keep it hush-hush for as long as we can.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the counter behind me. “And here I thought you were just another pretty student. You continue to surprise and impress me.”
“Good to know.” Clearly she wasn’t as impressed by me as I was by her.
“How long have you been working here?”
“About six . . . seven months.”
She started to pull out a few jars and bottles, but then stopped to look expectantly at me. “I’ve really got to get to work.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“And don’t you have a class to go to?”
Shit. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. I was already five minutes late. “Yeah, I guess I should get going.” I really didn’t want to leave. I had so many questions for her. I wanted to know everything about her. Still, I headed to the door and turned to her. “I’m Bobby Cummings, by the way.”
“Again, good to know.”
I was disappointed she didn’t offer her name.
“And you are . . . ?”
She smiled and for a moment I thought she’d refuse to answer me. “Lilly Cooke.”
“Cooke, huh? The name suits you. Cooke in the kitchen.”
“Cute. I’ve never heard that one before.” But her crooked grin told me she’d heard it a million times.
Shit, even when I tried to be cute I was missing the mark.
I opened the door and stepped out into the hall, but stepped back inside for a final question. “Hey, I was just wondering. How did you find my sister?”
“Taryn? Easy. When I got you home, I tried to find a contact in your phone, but it was out. I plugged it in and it immediately started ringing. I picked up and it was your sister. She was pretty freaked out.”
“I guess you knew her already, right? Her and Errol King.”
“Sort of. I mean, I know of them. I know Errol taught here a while back, but he was already on sabbatical by the time I got here. I think I heard something about him being back in New York running his new restaurant or something. And then he took time off to get married and go on a honeymoon. Am I all caught up now?”
“Sure.” I was relieved to see she hadn’t really heard anything about me. I could just imagine what she would think of me if Taryn or Errol had inadvertently talked about me and my womanizing ways. I was usually pretty proud of my playboy status, but in front of this girl, I felt the need to hide that aspect of my life.
“You really need to get going.”
I nodded. “Hey, I’ll catch you later.”
Chapter 3
Needless to say, I was late for my next class, but it didn’t really matter much, because I didn’t hear a word the teacher said. The image of Lilly was stuck in my brain. Walking out of that class, I tried to shake the image of her face, of that black dress beneath that white lab coat out of my head. I had to concentrate. Taryn had already warned me about goofing off, and I certainly didn’t want to waste any of my mother’s money. Daydreaming about Lilly would have to wait until the end of the day.
But, damn . . .
I looked down at my lesson schedule to see what and where my last class of the day was; Le Science des Aliments in room 32-C. I glanced at the little map of the institute and hurried down the hall to my right. I was determined to make it on time, sit down and take in every last little thing from the next lesson. That said, having every class in French was draining. Not only did I have to learn the lesson, I had to first translate virtually every word spoken by the teacher. Fortunately I had a translation app on my phone to help me along, but it was still a tedious endeavor.
Running to the door of the classroom, I reached it at the same time as a brunette girl wearing a white lab coat and we collided just as we entered the room. She looked up at me.
“You again?”
“Lilly? Great. I was hoping we’d have a class together.” I scanned the room and spotted two seats at the back of the class. “Come on. There are a few seats back there.”
“You go ahead,” she said, her tone authoritative and strong.
Was she really going to brush me off that easily? A little perplexed, I headed to the lone seat closer to the front of the class and sat down. My jaw dropped, literally dropped, when Lilly walked to the front of the room and wrote her name on the chalkboard.
“Bonjour. Je suis Mademoiselle Lilly Cooke. Bienvenue a l’introduction aux sciences des aliments.”
My French may have been sketchy, but I knew enough to understand that Lilly Cooke would be tea
ching this class. She was about my age. How could she be teaching a cooking class, even if it was a basic science of cooking class?
As she went on with her introduction and her background, I quickly entered a succession of words into my phone to have them translated so I could try to keep up with what she was saying.
Before coming to the institute, she’d been an apprentice at one of the largest food labs in France for two years. Before that she’d lived in the French countryside where she grew up in a convent.
I had to enter that word in twice; couvent. I had to be mistaken. Maybe I was spelling it wrong. The gorgeous, smart girl standing in front of the class couldn’t possibly have spent years in a convent. It was insane. But she went on to explain how the convent grew much of its own food and prepared various products like sauces, soups and stews. Her love of cooking was born while she helped the nuns with new sauce recipes and tended to the fresh food products that grew in their own gardens.
I was blown away. I was also a little intimidated. Up until then I thought I’d had a pretty full and exciting life. I mean, growing up in New York City, and working at my mom’s restaurant since I was, what, twelve?
But this girl . . . this fragile beauty with the serene gaze and a world of wisdom. How could I ever measure up? No wonder she looked at me as if I were some punk kid.
As she continued to speak, she pulled the lab coat back to set her hands on her hips. Man, what a sexy figure she made. And the best part was that she was totally unaware of it. But that simple black dress . . . it was tantalizing in the most innocent way. It lured me, making me want to slowly unwrap the gift it hid. I had no doubt she had a body that could drive men nuts . . . and making love to her . . . Mmm. I was getting a hard-on just thinking about it.
Her gaze met mine and she licked her lips in a nervous and apprehensive manner that shot a blast of arousal to my hardening shaft. She quickly looked away, opened the folder on the desk in front of her and pulled out a small stack of paper.
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