1 tablespoon heavy cream
1 teaspoon all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon salt
Confectioners' sugar, for dusting (optional)
Preparation
Position rack in center of oven; preheat to 375°F. Lightly coat two 10-ounce ramekins with cooking spray; coat the insides of each with 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar.
Using a microwave melt chopped chocolate in a small microwave-safe bowl on medium, stirring every 20 seconds, until melted, 1 to 2 minutes. Let cool for a few minutes. Note: You may also use a double boiler, if you prefer.
Whisk egg yolk and cream in a medium bowl until combined. Temper by adding a small amount of melted chocolate and whisking, to bring to temperature. Then whisk in the remaining chocolate until smooth. Be careful not to dump it all, or you will have chocolate scrambled eggs!
Whisk flour and cinnamon in a separate bowl. Add flour mixture to cream/egg/chocolate mixture until incorporated.
Using an electric mixer or hand held mixer (separate bowl), beat egg whites and salt on high speed until soft peaks form. Beat in the remaining 2 tablespoons sugar in four additions, until stiff, glossy peaks form. Egg whites should stand up when touched and not meld back into the bowl.
Using a rubber spatula, gently fold (a “bottom to top” motion—don’t stir!) half the beaten whites into the chocolate mixture until fairly smooth; then gently fold this combined mixture back into the remaining egg whites until no white streaks remain. Divide between the prepared ramekins and place on a baking sheet. Bake until puffed and firm to the touch, 18 to 22 minutes. Dust with confectioners’ sugar, if desired. Serve immediately.
Want more sensuous treats? Check out Julianne’s Kitchen at JulianneFloyd.com
SNEAK PREVIEW- PANTS ON FIRE
(Sexy Southerners Series - Book 2)
Chapter One
That bitch.
Suzanne turned her cell off and tossed it in the depths of her designer leopard print handbag. She couldn’t believe that her cousin would have the nerve to keep texting her, not after what she discovered her doing in Barbados.
Or who, rather.
It was bad enough that her best friend Jessica’s cheating ex-asshole was playing the field in Suze’s scheduled vacation spot.
It was quite another to see your cousin slipping out of his hotel room in the wee morning hours, half dressed and clearly doing the walk of shame.
Except that Caro had no shame.
Suze was livid.
She hustled it back to Atlanta, and buried herself in her charity fundraising to take her mind off the fact that her closest relative was a backstabbing bitch.
Really, did no one have any loyalty these days?
Suze scanned the room, taking in the white linen tablecloths and pricey orchid floral centerpieces, all designed to impart a sense of elegance. Everything was set to perfection—her exact specifications. The musicians were queued. Decor dripped of exclusivity and expense with polished silver candlesticks and crystal stemware.
The benefit guests were just starting to arrive, so she tucked her clutch under her arm and mentally steered herself for another evening of too much Chardonnay and speeches designed to jerk tears and empty wallets. A-listers from Atlanta society, such as herself, were not expected to display boredom, even if she had spent the past two weeks planning out every minute detail, from the height of the centerpieces to the number of wait staff in attendance.
At least she wouldn’t have to spend another night alone.
She plastered a faint smile on her lips, nodding to the patrons who were handing their raffle tickets to the concierge for their silent auction number assignment. Anything was better than going back to an empty house, even a dull society affair.
She’d made sure to tap the right people for auction donations —everything from luxury vacations to professional sports memorabilia. Tonight’s fundraiser would no doubt land her on the front page of the Atlanta Weekly Journal society column. She waved at an AWJ photographer making the rounds, snapping shots of everything. He gave her a ‘thumbs up’ gesture, grinned and took a photo of her by the picture windows. His flash popped, dancing like disco lights in Suze’s vision.
Disco. Just like the music on the night she’d found her cousin doing the horizontal mambo with Jessica’s ex.
Suze blinked and meandered to the center hall to clear her head. She was here to help raise funds for the new wing of the children’s hospital, not to fume about Caro. And now that Jess was moving to Texas with her new man, Suze needed to find ways to fill the gaps in her social calendar. While she couldn’t be more thrilled that Jess had found love, her bestie’s big move was going to leave a big gaping hole in Suze’s life—a hole that might never be filled.
Especially since Caroline was persona non grata. That bitch.
The musicians started to play, another droning classical piece. Suze stifled a yawn and snagged a glass of white wine from the circulating trays and moved towards the reception hall podium to check the guest list of arrivals.
“Well, well…look who the cat dragged in.” The male voice behind her was confident and deep, with a buttery southern drawl like caramel. “Hello, Blondie.”
Suze froze.
That voice. That nickname.
Of all the charity events, in all the cities in the world…he had to crash hers.
Suzanne gritted her teeth and pivoted on her Jimmy Choos. “Hello, Chase.” She gave him a chilly smile. “How nice to see you again.” Nice didn’t begin to describe her feelings. Her fingers tightened involuntarily on the stem of her wineglass.
Chase Weston, former football star and jet setter of the southern hemisphere. At her local charity event. She wanted to die.
She was a tall woman, especially in her four inch stilettos. But Chase Weston was even taller. An ex-University football star, he had the most gorgeous Caribbean blue eyes and a chiseled chin that would make a movie star jealous. As a junior coed, she’d succumbed to his magnetic charms, swooning for him on more than one occasion. Not that he’d noticed.
“Nice?” Chase leaned in to give her the perfunctory cheek kiss, smelling faintly of bourbon. The jerk would be drinking hard alcohol at a polite social event. “I don’t recall ever being labeled that. Not by you.” He turned, and Suzanne noticed a shorter, balding man with glasses just behind him. “Billy Jessup? Meet the infamous Suzanne Collins. Suze and I are old…ah…friends, Billy.”
Jessup maneuvered around Chase’s broad form to shake her hand. “Hello, Suzanne. I’m Mr. Weston ‘s agent.”
“Handler, is more like it.” Chase muttered, sloshing a little bourbon over the side of his tumbler. He seemed more than a little tipsy. Suze compressed her lips. Chase had never been much of a drinker that she recalled. He’d been too busy with physical training and all those five a.m. workouts. Ten years later and he still looked too damn good.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Suze replied, dutifully. Her nose wrinkled at Chase’s bourbon dripping fingers. He noticed her gaze, and immediately stuck his fingers in his mouth to suck off the alcohol. Those blue eyes of his seemed to turn a shade darker.
Suze averted her eyes, and swallowed the urge to wet her lips.
“What brings you two here?” she forced her tone to be bright, as if she was really interested.
“Just checking out the local scenery.” Chase’s fingers lingered on his lips. Then, he dropped his hand and tipped his chin in a devilishly charming manner. “You look good, Blondie.”
“Ahem,” Jessup cleared his throat. “Er…we wouldn’t miss the most promising event in Atlanta society.” He elbowed Chase hard in the ribs. Chase grunted, but barely flinched.
“Yes,” he echoed, his eyes raking over her face. “Promising.”
“Hmm….” Suze tilted her head, pretending his butterscotch charisma didn’t affect her. Inside, her stomach did flips. “I didn’t see your names on the invitation list. What a very pleasant sur
prise.” She purposefully left a bite in her tone that left no room for misunderstanding.
“Well,” Chase nodded. “We figured you wouldn’t turn down a few party crashers, as long as a contribution to the cause was made.” He patted the coat of his jacket, emphasizing the check book outlined against his lapel. The navy blue of his suit made his eyes even more breathtaking. Suze took a shaky breath.
“Wonderful. Then we’ll be seeing you two at the silent auction. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe the dessert buffet needs some attention.” She had to get out of here. Suze found herself wondering if that hungry look on his face had more to do with her than the fact that the food hadn’t been served. If his intent expression was any indication, the only thing on his menu…was her.
Nope, nope, she chided herself. She wasn’t going to go there.
Chase Weston was a playboy and an asshole. And there was no way she was falling for him again.
***
Well, god damn.
That was literally the first thing that crossed his mind when he caught sight of Suzanne Collins.
She trotted around looking more delicious than ever. She wore a platinum dress, simple and elegant, that showed off her lean, trim figure. He’s always liked the athletic chicks. Her hair was pulled up in one of those fancy hairstyles, piled on top of her head like a crown with little wispy pieces tickling the back of her neck. He wanted to pull out the pins and run his fingers through it.
Chase shook himself. He was a little drunk, maybe more than he should be at one of these hoity-toity society things that Jessup was always pushing him to attend for his public image, not that he gave a damn.
He hadn’t cared about much of anything. Not since the first time he’d let her go.
But he’d been nervous about tracking Suze down, especially considering what he needed from her. Even after all these years, she was just as breathtakingly gorgeous as she’d been in college, but perhaps without her old innocence. He’d been callow, then, and too full of himself. A campus celebrity with a promising pro career after another winning season as quarterback, he’d seen her only as a stuck up trust fund baby. She’d fallen for his charms, just like every other girl and, fool that he was, he’d thrown her away.
Then, he’d discovered how wrong he was.
Suze was anything but ordinary.
Now, as he watched her circulating the floor, his chest felt tight. He fingered the collar of his expensive navy suit, feeling unaccountably hot in a way that had nothing to do with the bourbon, and everything to do with the sweet leggy blonde stalking away from him as if she could stab his eyes out with her stilettos.
He almost wished she could.
Then he wouldn’t be subjected to the unconsciously seductive sway of her tight little ass as she left him.
Jessup, next to him, gave a low whistle. “So, that’s Suzanne Collins.” His eyes were plastered on the beautiful blonde.
“Yeah.” Chase was irritated with Jessup’s interest, though he couldn’t say why.
“She’s even better in person.” Hell, Jessup was practically panting.
“Yeah,” he repeated. If he wasn’t careful, he was liable to smash his fist into something. Like Jessup’s eager face. “Put your tongue back in your head. She’s off limits.”
“Maybe for you. She didn’t look too happy to see you. I still can’t believe you let that one slip through your golden fingers.” His agent’s eyes devoured her greedily.
“You think you have what it takes to nail her down?” Chase gritted, through clenched teeth. He took a hefty swing of his almost empty glass. “I never did.”
“I’d like to nail her, for sure.” Jessup gave him a chin jerk. “You sure we need her?”
Boy, did he.
Chase needed her all right. Her astute fundraising talents, her considerable financial resources, her high society connections. “I’m sure. She’s the one.”
The fact that he wanted to bury himself in her sweetness had nothing to do with it.
He was a known playboy, a man that knew how to manipulate women in and out of his bed. But he needed her—and only her. All his plans depended on it. After so many years as the most eligible bachelor on the sports circuit, now, he’d have to put every scheme in his playbook into action to score the hottest blonde in Hotlanta and make all his dreams come true.
Table of Contents
JulianneFloyd.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Featured Recipe
Sneak Preview
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LIAR LIAR (Sexy Southerners series) Page 17