Page 82 of Recipe for Temptation

They clung to each other for a long time, his hands stroking the silky dampness of her back as he murmured endearments to her.

At some point she lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed into his eyes with searching tenderness. His foolish heart constricted.

He leaned close, kissing her deeply and possessively.

She belonged to him now.

The sooner she stopped fighting it, the better off they’d both be.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Inside the cozy guesthouse located at the opposite end of the gazebo, Asha lay curled against Sterling’s side in the large bed where they’d just finished making love.

“Do you think anyone suspects anything?”

Sterling chuckled, a drowsy rumble. “About us? Or about Michael and Reese?”

“About us, of course.” Asha laughed softly. “Darling, everyone who was at the party tonight knows about Michael and Reese, not to mention the millions of viewers who tuned in to watch his show. My God, Sterling. Did you see the way he looked at her?”

“See it? Hell, I felt it.”

Sterling had never seen his son look at any woman the way he’d looked at Reese St. James. And they must have stayed on that empty dance floor for over an hour. If the musicians hadn’t stopped for a break, there was no telling how much longer those two would have danced together, oblivious to everything else.

Sterling wanted Michael to be happy, and Reese, God bless her, seemed to be just what the doctor ordered—no pun intended.

Asha sighed blissfully. “Looks like we’ll be planning another wedding in the garden soon.”

“We?”

“Of course. We both know you can’t be trusted to help plan a wedding. For starters, we already know what you’d include on the reception menu.”

Sterling scowled without rancor. “Michael happens to love barbecue. He’s been grilling since he was ten years old.”

“He’s a world-renowned chef,” Asha said dryly. “He can’t serve pork ribs and beans at his own wedding. And Reese is a doctor?—”

“From Texas, another barbecue-loving state.”

“—who’d expect nothing less than a classy wedding.”

Sterling guffawed. “Classy, hell. Reese is one of the most down-to-earth girls Michael has ever brought home.”

“Are you saying she’s not classy?” Asha challenged.

“Of course not. She’s got more class in her pinky finger than most people I know. But she’s not fussy or pretentious. She’s genuine. I think that’s one of the many qualities my son loves about her.”

“It doesn’t hurt that she’s exquisite. That body.” Asha sighed. “I’m already looking forward to designing her wedding gown.”

Sterling smiled softly. “Watching her and Michael on that dance floor—him in a tux and her dressed in white—it felt like we were already at their wedding.”

“I know.” Something in Asha’s quiet, triumphant voice made Sterling wonder if she’d orchestrated the whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise him. The woman was a damn control freak.

As if to prove his point, she said, “They can honeymoon at my chateau in France.”

Unnerved by the decisive finality in her tone, as if the matter were a foregone conclusion, Sterling muttered, “Michael has a cottage in Italy. I’m sure they’d want to honeymoon there instead.”

“Of course. How romantic.”

Asha’s casual mention of her French chateau was just another reminder of the vastly different worlds she and Sterling inhabited, as illustrated by tonight’s glitzy bash.

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