Page 8 of Recipe for Temptation

“I know,” Michael murmured, holding the woman’s dark gaze. “I’m driving her home.”

He thought about calling her out on her lie and sending her packing. But then a better idea came to him. He’d play along with her just to see how far she was willing to go. Then, when she least suspected it, he’d spring his trap.

By the time he was through with her tonight, the woman would think twice about pulling another stunt like this.

Chapter Three

Reese’s stomach was a vicious tangle of nerves as she and Michael left downtown and cruised onto the freeway in a sleek black Mercedes-Maybach. She stared out the passenger window, too preoccupied with her racing thoughts to register the passing scenery.

She couldn’t believe she’d asked Michael Wolf to drive her home.

It was the most impulsive thing she’d ever done in her life. Her sister, Raina, had always teased her about being the older, wiser, sensible sister—one who was never ruled by her hormones or emotions. But that Reese had been nowhere to be found tonight. In her place was a woman who’d seen something she wanted and had gone after it, consequences be damned.

She bit her lip, guilt pricking her conscience when she thought of Victor. They’d only been apart for two days, and already he’d been reduced to an afterthought. She definitely hadn’t been thinking about him when she’d invited Michael to keep her company over dinner. And she definitely hadn’t been thinking about Victor when she’d asked Michael to take her home, to which he’d responded in a voice like dark velvet: “Nothing would please me more.”

Reese shivered at the memory of that steamy, tantalizing exchange. She couldn’t believe she’d been so bold, so reckless.

“Where are you from?”

Michael’s deep voice snapped Reese out of her reverie. Startled, she turned from the window to stare blankly at him. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “I asked where you’re from.”

“Oh.” She let out a breath. “Houston.”

Michael nodded. “Right.”

Reese thought she detected a hint of mockery in his expression. But no, it must have been a trick of the passing streetlights.

“I’ve been thinking about expanding to Houston,” he told her.

“Really? That’d be wonderful!” Reese grinned, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “I’ve been hoping you’d open a restaurant in my hometown. So have a lot of people I know.”

“That’s definitely good to hear. I can’t take credit for the idea, though. It was pitched to me by someone I met at a book signing.”

Reese nodded. “I’m no market analyst, but something tells me that Wolf’s Soul would do extremely well in Houston.”

“My marketing and research team seems to think so, too.” He slid her a lazy smile. “Maybe you’d be the first to review the restaurant.”

Reese grinned. “I’d be honored.”

“I assure you, Miss St. James, the honor would be mine.”

Reese flushed with pleasure. Am I dreaming? she wondered, not for the first time that evening. Is any of this really happening?

As Michael returned his attention to the road, she couldn’t help admiring his handsome profile. The proud bridge of his nose, the sculpted perfection of his square jaw, the curve of those full, masculine lips she wanted so badly to kiss.

Her gaze drifted lower, lingering on the strong column of his throat before continuing to the hands resting on the steering wheel. They were big, broad and long-fingered, the nails cut short and neat. Reese thought about the culinary masterpieces those talented hands had produced. She could only imagine the things they could do to a woman’s body. To her body.

At that moment Michael turned his head, meeting her gaze. Slowly he smiled, as if he’d read her mind. Her stomach fluttered.

“And to think that I almost went home after the fundraiser,” he said softly. “What a shame that would’ve been.”

“A travesty.” Reese smiled. “Of course, this wasn’t going to be my only visit to your restaurant. I planned to keep returning until I’d tasted everything on the menu.”

Michael chuckled. “Is that right?”

“Of course.” She grinned playfully. “Any food critic worth her salt knows that multiple visits to a restaurant are absolutely necessary in order to provide a fair, accurate review.”

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