A Cookbook Conspiracy Read Online Free Page A

the bar and into the dining
     area to greet him.
    If my breath happened to catch a little whenever I saw him, I could live with that.
     Today he wore an elegant black business suit, and his dark, close-cropped hair and
     military bearing were a perfect counterpoint to his glittering blue eyes and knowing
     smile.
    My sister might mock me later, but I didn’t care. Derek was just so hot. Tall. Self-confident.
Mine.
    Even without the help of the ancient elevator, Derek could make me tremble. But I
     wouldn’t be so cruel as to mention that to Savannah anytime soon.
    He tossed his jacket over a dining room chair and pulled me close for a hug and a
     kiss. I held on to him for an extra moment, savoring his closeness and his subtle
     scent of forest and spice.
    He spotted my sister over my shoulder and eased back. “Savannah, what a delightful
     surprise. Are you staying for dinner?”
    “Yes, she is,” I said. The doorbell rang and I twirled my hands in the air as if I’d
     just made magic happen. “And there’s dinner now. I’ll go buzz the guy into the building.”
    “Weren’t you going to make pasta this evening?” Derek asked as he poured himself a
     glass of wine.
    “I don’t want to talk about it.” I rummaged through my purse to find cash, then headed
     for the front door.
    “You know she’s a hopeless mess in the kitchen, right?” Savannah said.
    “I heard that,” I shouted.
    Savannah snorted. “With ears like a desert fox.”
    I met the delivery guy at the top of the stairs, paid him for the take-out food, then
     watched him trot downstairs and waited to hear the sound of the ground-floor security
     door shut behind him. I hurried back inside, locked and dead-bolted my door—I had
     become a real security freak—and jogged to the kitchen. After shoving the pizza, box
     and all, into the warm oven, I found space in the refrigerator for the large chopped
     salad. Grabbing napkins and utensils, I set the dining room table while Derek pulled
     plates from the cupboard and added them to each place setting.
    Savannah set the wine bottle on the table and kept us entertained with her latest
     adventures in the restaurant biz. Somehow she worked her way back around to my dismal
     cooking skills.
    As I pulled the pizza box out of the oven, I admitted, “I’m getting better at chicken,
     but I still can’t make pasta to save my life.”
    Derek stepped forward, brushing my hair back as he lifted my face and kissed me lightly
     on my temple. “Not to worry, love. You’re good at so many other things.”
    “Aww, sweet,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
    “Break it up, you guys,” Savannah groused. “I’m a lonesome, bitter woman and the sickening
     picture of you two nuzzling and cooing is now imprinted on my brain forever.”
    I smiled up at Derek. “Our work here is done.”
    “Excellent,” he said, winking at Savannah. “Let’s eat.”
    *   *   *
    I offered Savannah the use of our guest room for the night, but she was eager to get
     back to her restaurant in Dharma to refresh her stockpot.
    Ooh, a stockpot was waiting for her. My sister led such a fascinating life. No wonder
     she’d been whining earlier.
    We walked her down to her car and as soon as she drove away, I turned to Derek and
     pounced on something I’d noticed during dinner. “How do you know Baxter Cromwell?”
    “I never said I knew him,” he demurred as we walked back to the elevator.
    “I saw your reaction when Savannah mentioned him and his new restaurant. You didn’t
     look happy.”
    “Aren’t you the attentive one?”
    “Don’t change the subject,” I said, although I tended to become easily distracted
     whenever Derek slipped his arm around my shoulder.
    “I’ve never met the man personally,” he finally admitted, “but I’ve done business
     with him. Several years ago, he hired my company after being threatened by a competitor.”
    Derek’s company, Stone Security, provided