Chocolate Kisses Read Online Free Page B

kitchen.”
    “And
why don’t I want to do that?” he asked with artificial patience.
    “Because
guys don’t like kitchens. They think it’s a hazardous environment. Bad for
their machismo.”
    “You’re
speaking from experience, I take it.”
    She
nodded.
    “Past
lovers?”
    Her
cheeks darkened briefly with that now familiar lovely blush, but that was the
only evidence he’d flustered her. “My father,” she told him.
    “One
of those old-fashioned machismo types, huh?”
    “My
father owned a restaurant in Norwalk. A diner, actually. He was the boss and he
never set foot in the kitchen. His idea of running a restaurant was to greet
the customers when they were on their way in and take their money when they
were on their way out. My mother was the head cook. I worked as a waitress and
did some of the cooking, too. My father claimed he was running the place, but
did he ever lend a hand in the kitchen?” She answered her own question with a
snort.
    “I’m
not your father.”
    “You’re
also not a diner employee. You’re a man who grew up in this palace—” she waved
at the massive brick edifice before them “—and if you keep wanting to help me,
I’m going to suspect you of ulterior motives.”
    “You
know my motives,” he said, deciding he could be as forthright as she was.
“There’s nothing ulterior about them.”
    She
lowered her eyes. He regretted losing sight of them, as beautiful as blue
topaz, but he satisfied himself by admiring her long, tawny lashes. “The only
fantasy feast you’re going to get from me is food,” she warned.
    “What
are you afraid of?” He tucked his thumb under her chin and lifted her face to
his.
    She
appeared on the verge of answering. Her lips moved as she mulled over her
words, then moved again. The temptation was unbearable.
    Leaning
across the console between their seats, he touched his mouth to hers. Just a
light, tantalizing brush, scarcely a kiss. Just enough to let her know how
thrilling a longer, deeper kiss would be.
    She
pulled back slightly and gazed at him, her eyes clouded with doubt. “I don’t
even know you,” she whispered, a plea filtering through the words.
    “And
what little you know you invented. I grew up in this palace, so I shouldn’t
help you in the kitchen. Men are bosses, women cook. It’s a sunny day, so I
shouldn’t want to be with you. Well, here’s a news flash, Claudia. I’m not what
you think.”
    “I
don’t know what I think!” She sounded frustrated.
    The
light kiss had left him pretty damned frustrated, too. He could tell her what
to think: that some of his happiest memories of growing up at Wyatt Hall had
involved sneaking into the kitchen and keeping Edie, the cook, company while
she whipped up meals. That while his own culinary skills rose no higher than
punching buttons on the microwave, he was a willing learner. That by running
her own company, Claudia displayed a boldness and a commitment that turned him
on as much as her eyes and her lips and her luscious body.
    Rather
than tell her with words, he slid his hand into her hair and guided her back to
him. He moved his mouth gently, coaxing, skimming, teasing. When she didn’t
withdraw, he let his tongue slide between her lips.
    She
tasted like candy, like those fatefully delicious chocolate kisses of hers. He
felt overwhelmed by the need to devour her, to absorb every morsel of her, to
consume her until he himself was consumed by the passion exploding to life
inside them both.
    He
felt a shudder of pleasure seize her. He heard her shaky sigh. Abruptly she
turned away and stared out the side window. She wrestled with her breath for a
moment, then reached for the door handle. “Don’t do that again,” she said
before shoving the door open and climbing out.
    Sure,
he thought sardonically. He wouldn’t do that again. Why give in to the desire
that blazed between them? Why do anything as logical as admitting that they
wanted each other?
    He
met her at the van’s