Page 17 of Shades of Red

Growling in annoyance, I storm toward the front of the kitchen where Aurélie is still waiting with a sour look on her face. I stand beside her, keeping a healthy distance between us. “Yes, chef?”

“I don’t want either of you leaving this building until your technique is perfect, Nine. I trust you enough to be the judge of when that is. The keys to Dix are in my office. Lock up when you leave. And I expect you here in the morning just as early as everyone else, understood?” His tone isn’t unkind, just stern like a parent who expects better out of you. The paternal concern in his eyes grates on my nerves. Given my relationship with parents, I would rather he screamed abuse.

“Yes, chef,” I answer because there’s no other answer to give.

“Good,” he answers with a clap. “Play nice, you two. I’ll see youin the morning.”

The minute Chef Matis is out the door and we’re left alone, Aurélie’s shoulders slump. “Et merde,” she whispers under her breath.

“My thoughts exactly,” I respond with a scowl, even though she wasn’t talking to me.

“Just go home,” she bites out, her eyes flashing with irritation as she stares up at me like she hates me. I wish to the devil that I could hate her too. “I can make another one myself,” she continues, unbuttoning her chef’s whites as she prepares for at least another four hours in the kitchen. The formal uniform can start to feel hot and stifling after a while, and we’ve already been in the kitchen all day, “Chef won’t know the difference. We can just tell him you made it.”

“Ah there’s my lovely little deceptress,” I say, my tone sweet as honey mixed with poison. “I’m starting to think lying is the most fun you can have with your clotheson. And I think we both know what you like to do when they’re off.”

“Fuck you,” she spits back. “You know nothing about me.”

“Maybe that’s because every time I try to get close, you run away,” I seethe. My hands tingle with the need for violence. I raise them to my neck and start to unbutton my uniform slowly.

She glares at me, but she has no retort to offer. “That’s what I thought,” I reply, sliding the white coat off my shoulders and throwing it on the closest prep station. I’m wearing a white button up underneath, my shirt snugly tucked into black pants. I look over to find Aurélie staring, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there was hunger in her stark blue eyes.

“See something you like?” I ask, my tone suggestive as I pay her the favor and run my eyes over her.

We’re opposites today, darkness and light. I find it fitting in more ways than one. Her dress is black silk, the sleeves sliding off her narrow shoulders. It’s clearly expensive, tailored to fit her form as it hugs herbody down to her mid calves. There’s a strip of creamy white skin peeking out from the thin slit that runs up to her mid thigh, teasing me with the thought of seeing more. She would almost appear demure if she didn’t look like she wanted to devour me with those red lips.

“I could just take off my shirt, if you want? It would save you the trouble of undressing me with your greedy eyes.”

She snaps out of her lust instantly and throws me a scowl. “You are apig. If you won’t leave, then I will.” She brushes past me as she storms for the door.

“Get your fucking ass back here,” I command. Snatching her wrist, I jerk her back toward me, the force of it slamming her straight into my chest. She instinctively puts her hands up and tries to push me off. It only makes me hold her tighter. “Chef said you’re not leaving this building until you teach me, even if you hate every second of it,” I snarl, lowering my head until my face is inches from hers. Close enough to inhale the scent of cherries that I’ve tried to ignore all day.

“Iwillhate every second of it,” she spits, still struggling even though it’s pointless. She just can’t help herself. She’s like a little rabbit stuck in a trap, and she’ll screech and tug until her last breath. Too bad I’m far too happy to sit back and watch.

“Good.” My smile is cruel and merciless. “I like to see you suffer for me.”

“I hate you,” she grits out of clenched teeth.

“Mmm, now you’re just trying to turn me on,” I reply, licking my lips for a taste of her. She struggles even harder at the subtle reference to my cock. Her movements cause her hips to knock into the erection between my legs, and I groan at her accidental touch, gripping her even harder to keep her from brushing against me again.

“Letgoof me,” she shrieks, her helplessness driving her frantic.

I feed off her panic, drinking it in like the richest wine, bitter and sweet. I want more of it. I want to get drunk off the scent of her fear.The thought drags me in a direction far removed from rationality as an idea forms in a dark corner of my mind. A way for her to willingly give me enough of her delicious terror that I feel satiated. At least for a little while.

“Tell you what,” I announce, an unfamiliar darkness rippling in my blood, begging to be set free. “I’llletyou run.” Her eyes jolt to mine, hopefulness and suspicion twined together in the bright blue depths. “I’ll even be generous and give you the choice of hiding.” Her brows furrow, and she stares at me in confusion.

“If you make it out of the restaurant or manage to stay hidden for ten minutes, I’ll let you leave.” A devious smile tugs at my lips when I think of something that will sweeten the deal. Something she won’t be able to resist. “Hell, I’ll do you one better. If you escape before I catch you, I will remove myself from the competition for sous chef. I’ll be out of your life permanently.”

“Cache-cache?” she scoffs. “That’s your grand idea?” She shakes her head, her eyes full of annoyance rather than fear. “What’s the caveat? What’s worth losing your chance at sous?”

I don’t tell her that there’snothingendangering my chance of becoming sous chef. I don’t tell her I’m not risking a goddamn thing. And I definitely don’t tell her that this was over before it even began. I just tell her exactly what will happen in ten minutes when I drag her from whatever hiding spot she scurries into and claim my prize.

I lean down and press my lips to her ear. “When I catch you, I get to hurt you.”

Her cornflower eyes sparkle with fear, her pretty lips forming a red O of surprise. Or horror. “You’re insane,” she gasps, trying to take a step back, but she’s got nowhere to go. “I’m not going toletyou hurt me.”

I laugh, a low rumble filling my chest. The silly girl thinks she has a choice in the matter. But she doesn’t. Whether she wants to or not, tonight she’ll be wearing her own shade of red. “You don’t have to lie back and take it,chérie,” I tell her, pressing her tightly against my body. “You can fight me as hard as you want. In fact, I’ll enjoy it even more if you do.” I trail my knuckles down the column of her neck, so fragile and pale. “But when you come with my knife pressed against the soft, creamy skin of your throat, I want you to admit you enjoy it too.”

“You’re sick,” she says, her voice small and breathy. She’s not even trying to pull away anymore.

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