Page 16 of Recipe for Temptation

“This is Michael Wolf.”

Reese moistened her dry lips. “What do you want?” she asked curtly.

“It seems that I owe you an apology.”

Reese sat up straighter in bed. It was the last thing she’d expected to hear from Michael. Hell, she hadn’t expected to hear from him at all!

“I’m listening,” she said coolly.

“Last night I accused you of lying about your identity, and I was wrong. So I’m calling to apologize.”

Reese was silent, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. She knew she should accept his apology and leave it at that, but she just couldn’t let him off the hook that easily. Not after the way he’d humiliated her.

”What possessed you to accuse me of something so outrageous?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Michael said evenly. “My maître d’ must have gotten you confused with a food critic who has a similar name. Ever heard of Randi St. James?”

“No.”

“Apparently she also had dinner reservations. My guess is that my maître d’ got your names and dates mixed up. When the restaurant opens at ten, I’ll call and have someone check the reservation database for me. But I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.”

“In the future,” Reese said dryly, “you should probably get your facts straight before you go around maligning innocent people. Especially when those people are paying customers.”

“Point taken.” There was a note of wry amusement in his voice. “I understand congratulations are in order. You’re a finalist in my apprentice contest.”

“Imagine that,” Reese said with as much enthusiasm as if he’d told her it was going to rain.

“My producer tells me he called you yesterday.”

“Yes, he did. My phone was turned off, so I just received his message this morning.” She paused, then added sarcastically, “Just in case you think I had an ulterior motive for not telling you last night that I was a finalist.”

When Michael said nothing, Reese frowned.

“Wait a minute,” she said suspiciously. “You didn’t actually think that, did you?”

He hesitated. “The thought may have crossed my mind.”

“I don’t believe you!” Reese burst out, indignation launching her from the bed. “Just how conceited are you?”

He made an impatient sound. “I’m not?—”

“Yes, you are! Only a conceited jerk would concoct outrageous scenarios in which women are so desperate to be with him that they resort to lying and impersonating others just to have him.” She shook her head in disgust. “Congratulations, Mr. Wolf. In one fell swoop, you’ve gone from being my favorite chef to the most arrogant, overbearing man I’ve ever met.”

“I thought Bobby Flay was your favorite chef,” Michael reminded her.

“He is now!”

“Good. Then why don’t you go and audition for his show? Oh wait, that’s right. You entered a contest to become my apprentice.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” Reese jeered. “Trust me, it won’t happen again.”

“I’m so glad you feel that way, Miss St. James?—”

“That’s Doctor to you,” Reese snarled, though she’d never been hung up on titles.

“Fine. As I was saying, Dr. St. James,” Michael said, bitingly mocking, “I’m glad you realize you made a mistake by entering the contest. Showing up for the audition would’ve been a huge waste of your time and mine. It wouldn’t have worked out between us.”

“That’s the understatement of the year!”

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