Page 28 of Recipe for Temptation

“Which one?” Reese asked, sitting in a sumptuous brown leather chair.

“What, exactly, are you doing here?”

“I told you. I wanted to bring you coffee.” She smiled whimsically. “I’m trying to get into my new role as your apprentice.”

“Yeah?” He sounded amused. “You gonna pick up my dry-cleaning, too?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

His answering smile, the first real one he’d allowed since her arrival, made her heart lurch crazily. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he teased.

Her smile widened. “No, I guess not.”

As he raised the cup to his mouth and drank more coffee, her gaze was drawn to his left bicep, which bore a distinct horseshoe-shaped brand that identified him as an Omega Psi Phi fraternity member.

“How’d you find my address and get inside the building?”

Reese’s eyes snapped back to his face, and she grinned. “Your address was on the contract I had to sign for the show. As for getting into the building, I flirted shamelessly with the doorman, made him think I was one of your newest playthings.” She paused, arching a brow. “He must get that a lot. It was almost too easy.”

Michael shook his head, mouth twitching. “I plead the Fifth.”

Reese laughed. “I bet you do, Que-Dog.”

He glanced down at his branded bicep, then laughed.

Moments later, when they were still smiling companionably at each other, she murmured, “See, it’s working already.”

“What is?”

“My plan.” At his wary look, she elaborated, “I came over here hoping we could reach a truce.”

“A truce,” Michael repeated slowly.

She nodded. “I thought it might be good for us to spend some time getting to know each other better so we won’t be at each other’s throats when taping begins next week. I know how important it is for us to have chemistry.”

He looked amused. “I think we’ve already established that we have chemistry. If we had any more, we’d both have to be hosed down.”

Reese blushed, her belly quivering at his words. “I’m not talking about that kind of chemistry.”

“Why not? It’s the only kind of chemistry worth talking about. If you don’t believe me, I’d be more than happy to remind you.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.

Reese laughed, even as she felt a responsive twitch between her thighs. “That won’t be necessary. Besides, just a minute ago you were swaying on your feet and could barely keep your eyes open.”

A slow, wolfish grin curved his mouth. “I’m wide awake now. Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’m all yours.”

Oh God. Reese nearly vaulted out of the chair and into his lap. She wanted him, wanted him with every cell in her body, every fiber of her being. It took a monumental act of willpower to remain seated, to resist the wicked gleam in his eyes that was pure temptation.

Sitting back and crossing her legs—to stop the vibrations in her clit and to appear composed—she tsk-tsked and wagged her finger at him. “Now, Mr. Wolf, is that any way to talk to your new apprentice?”

“Depends on what kind of apprentice you wanna be,” he drawled. “Instruction doesn’t have to be limited to the kitchen.”

Her insides clenched at the unmistakable implication. Smiling coquettishly, she purred, “Who says I need instruction—in or out of the kitchen?”

Michael stared at her for an arrested moment, his grin faltering. When she batted her eyelashes at him, he let out a low, rough chuckle and shook his head, looking slightly dazed. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

Swallowing a grin, Reese deadpanned, “I hope not. I was just starting to like you again.”

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound so warm and infectious she couldn’t help joining in.

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