Page 26 of Recipe for Temptation

Biting back an impatient oath, Michael quickly and succinctly explained what happened on Tuesday night, glossing over the kiss he and Reese had shared. When he’d finished his account, Marcus shook his head in amused disbelief.

“Is she unattractive?” he asked.

“Far from it,” Michael grudgingly admitted.

“Then why would you even think she’d have to resort to a stunt like that?”

“Like I said,” Michael ground out, “it was an honest mistake, one that could’ve happened to anyone. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. She got her revenge.”

“How so?” Sterling and Marcus asked in unison.

Michael smiled grimly. “She’s going to be my new apprentice.”

His father and brother listened raptly as he told them about the riveting audition performance that made Reese a shoo-in to win the competition. By the time he finished describing her sassy comedic shtick, both men were laughing pretty hard.

“Damn,” Marcus said. “Wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

“Me, too,” Sterling agreed with a grin. “Reese sounds like a little firecracker.”

“Oh, she is,” Michael muttered as a memory of glittering, defiant eyes flashed through his mind. And the mouth on her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been both infuriated and aroused while sparring with a woman. “She’s definitely gonna be a damn handful.”

Marcus gave him a knowing grin. “Think you’re up for the challenge?”

“Of course,” Michael retorted, thinking, God help me if I’m wrong!

Chapter Ten

Reese drew a deep, fortifying breath, then raised her hand and pressed the doorbell. As she waited for a response, her heart hammered so hard she thought it might bulldoze its way right out of her chest. Not for the first time that morning, she questioned the sanity of what she was doing. She must be crazy for coming here like this, uninvited. Maybe she should just?—

A scrape of movement inside the apartment forestalled any thoughts of escape.

Then suddenly the door opened.

Michael stood there in a sleeveless white T-shirt and black pajama bottoms, his long feet bare. His goatee looked thicker, dark stubble covered his jaw, and his eyes were heavy lidded and bleary.

He squinted down at her for a long moment, then closed his eyes as if he expected her to be gone when he reopened them.

Which, of course, she wasn’t.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

“What time is it?” His voice was a low, husky rasp that made her stomach clench.

“It’s just, um, after nine o’clock,” she answered sheepishly.

He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes again, this time looking as if he were trying to find his center of gravity. When he reached up and scrubbed his hands over his face, his thick, muscular biceps bunched and flexed with the movement.

Reese gulped. Hard.

After another interminable moment, those dark eyes slanted open and refocused on her face. He looked so big and menacing framed in the doorway that for a moment Reese felt like a hapless camper who’d wandered too far into the forest and awakened a bear from hibernation.

“What the hell,” he growled, “are you doing here?”

Ungluing her tongue from the roof of her mouth, Reese thrust a covered cup at him. “I brought you coffee.”

He stared at the cup in her hand, making no move to take it. “Coffee,” he echoed flatly.

She nodded. “From a gourmet coffee shop near Layla’s house. It’s pretty good, though not as good as the coffee I make. Next time I’ll bring you some of mine,” she added, drawing his eyes from the cup to her face.

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