Heat 1 (Heat: Master Chefs #1)

by Kailin Gow

  Probably the penthouse. Yeah, it was just like him to go for the best, the top, the cream of the crop. Man, I envied that guy.

  “We were, but I’ve decided to return to the Institute and finish my studies.”

  “And I’ll be teaching a few classes,” Errol added. “To keep an eye on Taryn. You know how many boys tried to get her to go out on a date with them back when she was a student. Well now, she’s my wife, and I will be around as much as I need to in order to make sure she remembers she’s with Errol King now for better and for worse.”

  Errol shot Taryn an intense look that spoke caveman, hands-off my woman all over it. Taryn looked down blushing. Man, so that was what it was like to feel so passionate about a woman that you reek like a caveman sending out signals to other cavemen all over to back off. This woman was mine. I wonder if I would ever feel so strongly passionate about a woman that I would reek of caveman, too.

  Great. So with Caveman Errol and overprotective, over-alarmed big sister Taryn at the Institute, my idea of fun was soon turning into something else. I’d have Mother Theresa on my back watching my every move and her military sergeant of a brother-in-law to add to the strain.

  “After what happened to you this weekend, I think it’s a good thing that we’ll be so close,” Taryn said. “We’ll be able to keep you out of trouble.”

  Errol chuckled. “At least we’ll try.”

  “Seriously?” I raked my fingers through my hair. I’d let it grow out a bit, giving me a bit of a European feel… kind of like what Errol had going on; that casual, windswept look that seemed to drive the girls crazy.

  “Mom didn’t send you out here to party, Bobby.”

  “I know that, but all work and no play…”

  “Can make Bobby a very rich and successful man if he plays his cards right.”

  I glared at Errol.

  “Do you really think I got where I am today by getting drunk and falling all over myself?”

  “No,” I muttered. I shoved my hands into my jean pockets and realized they’d put me into bed almost fully clothed. “So what’s the deal? Am I going to have to stay here with you guys?”

  “Not quite,” Taryn said.

  “Our honeymoon isn’t quite over yet.” Errol smirked as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. She looked at him in that adoring way she had and I suddenly felt like an intruder.

  “You’ll get to stay on campus like you’d planned, but…”

  I knew there was going to be a but.

  “I will be keeping a close eye on you, Bobby. And I have no qualms about snitching. If you go on to get yourself into all kinds of trouble, I’ll let Mom know and she’ll pull you back to New York quicker than you can say crème brulé. You got me?”

  My shoulders slumped down and I felt like I was ten again. “Gotcha.”

  “I’ll also remind you,” Errol said, “that the classes you’ve enrolled in are very demanding and it’s tolerance zero for any fooling around. One stupid move on your part and you can easily be kicked out. You're in Paris to learn, not to get into trouble. Understood?”

  I grunted and crossed my arms over my chest as I turned to look at him. “I would have thought that you of all people would have understood where I was coming from. I mean, you were a young guy once. You know what it’s like to want to play the field, to test the waters, to taste variety. Hell, I even read an article about you that literally had the headline ‘Notorious Bad Boy Chef, Errol King, on the Prowl Again.’ And you expect me to play choirboy? Come on. There’s nothing wrong with a guy my age wanting to play the field. Man, there are women out there.” I licked my lips as dozens of ripe, firm breasts paraded in front of my mind’s eye, each pair more succulent and appealing than the last. “So many, beautiful, sexy women who have so much to teach me… and man oh man, I want to learn.”

  “I’ll admit I was an asshole for a time, and it almost cost me everything. Not only did I come close to ruining my career, but I almost lost something even dearer to me; Taryn. Believe me, you don’t want to find the woman of your dreams and come to her with all that baggage, all the mistakes you made. If you're smart, you’ll cut that bullshit now.”

  Squinting, I looked out the window again. “Are you guys through giving me the third degree? I think I’d like to go back to bed now.”

  “Don’t you think you at least owe your sister an apology?” Errol said, his tone no longer amused and indulgent. “Do you know what it did to her to receive that call in the middle of the night? From a stranger? Do you know how frantic she was when she jumped out of bed and, without even bothering to get dressed, rushed me out of here so I could drive her down to le 19ieme arrondissement? Crazy, that’s what she was. Crazy with worry for her little smart aleck brother who thought he could go out into a strange new city, with a foreign language and manage on his own.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Sorry, sis.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears as she came to me and squeezed my face with her hand. “Don’t mess this up, Bobby.” She gave me a firm, but loving tap on the cheek. “Mom isn’t working her butt off so that you can come here and slack off, and believe me, Bobby, if Errol doesn’t get on your case about getting into trouble, I will.” She gave me another firm tap on this cheek, this time with a little more vigor.

  Feeling a little down on myself, I shrugged. “Maybe I just shouldn’t have come to Paris to begin with. You're obviously not happy to have me here.”

  “I’m thrilled that you're here, I’m just pissed off by how you're acting.”

  “And, if I may add another reason to walk a straight line, the fact that you're my brother-in-law means you’ll be held to greater scrutiny.”

  “Good to know,” I said. Hearing the sarcasm in my voice, I glanced to Taryn to see if she would hit me again.

  She simply glared at me and said, “Don’t let me down, Bobby.”

  “I won’t.”

  Chapter 2

  My first day in class was an eye opener. It’d started early enough, with my entire dorm awakening at a torturous six o’clock in the morning. It was barely light out and the hall just outside my door buzzed with activity and boisterous conversations in a variety of languages; among them, a lot of French, a healthy dose of English, some Italian and a pinch of German.

  No longer able to sleep, I’d schlepped out of bed and taken an extra long shower, putting extra care to lather up good and wash my hair. I wanted to smell good for the babes in class.

  And I was glad I did. The girls in my class were amazing; beautiful women with luscious lips, smoldering eyes and shiny hair swept up in a variety of sexy upsweeps, bohemian buns and tight, intellectual chignons. Most wore comfy shoes with rubber soles, but a few dared heels that screamed fuck me, which I will as soon as I get their numbers. Most chose simple attire that hid their curves, but were comfortable and functional, but, not too surprisingly, the few with heels showed a desire to stand out.

  And, man did they stand out. I had trouble concentrating on the day’s lesson. I wanted to dive into Sophia’s cleavage, and run my hand along Coreen’s sexy backside. I winked at Daniella when she glanced at me over her notebook, and smiled at Eloise with syrupy charm when I picked up the pencil she’d dropped. Apparently since Taryn, who was a student here and from a humble background, landed herself the most eligible bachelor in the world – Errol King, the female enrollment at the Institute had skyrocketed…which for me being one of the few guys in here who with rock hard abs and biceps, was like being in a candy store. I smiled. Being at the Institute in Paris was actually turning quite nicely.

  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 nig
ht; 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?”