Psyche Souffle (Knead to Know Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

“That’s actually not why I’m here.”
    “Oh?”
    “You said you hadn’t made a soufflé before.” I narrowed my eyes. He gave me a slight bow. “At your service.”
    “You make soufflés?” This was certainly a new tactic to get into my pants.
    He moved around my kitchen with ease, collecting everything he needed. He handed me the chocolate and instructed me to chop it and melt it. I watched him butter the soufflé dish and sprinkle it with sugar before I started chopping. He worked carefully and precisely. The cover definitely didn’t match the book when it came to Phoenix. He looked like a Goth punk rock star—dangerous, sexy, and oh-so-deliciously-wicked. And to a degree those things were true, as he enjoyed reminding me on a regular basis. But there was this other side to him: the Phoenix who lived in a former church and liked to cook and was in marching band in high school. They were like two totally different people.
    “Done,” I said.
    “Good. Add cream then melt it over boiling water and stop staring at me.”
    I smiled as I followed his directions. Once the water was boiling, I placed the bowl of chocolate and cream over it, stirring gently until they blended into a thick velvety sauce. I dabbed my finger in it, but couldn’t bring myself to taste it. That one indulgence would only remind me that I would never again know if something tasted as good as it smelled. I held my chocolate dipped finger out toward Phoenix. “Does this look right?”
    He came over, taking a hold of my wrist, gently moving me to a better position. His lips clamped down on my finger and his tongue circled it leisurely until every last drop of chocolate was gone. My eyes fluttered closed. His arm circled my waist as his hand grazed down my arm, reminding me to keep stirring. I fought to keep my breathing even, as images of all the other ways we could enjoy this chocolate came to mind. My next thought was even worse. This was how it could be. This gentle, sweet side of Phoenix. It could be mine if I just stopped pushing him away.
    His lips brushed the side of my neck then just above my collarbone. His hand still guided mine, stirring the chocolate as his thumb softly caressed mine. “It’s done,” he said, taking a step back.
    It took me a moment to recover as he moved the bowl of melted chocolate back to the counter.
    “Add the yolks and salt.”
    I nodded, stirring them into the mixture. “When did you become a jinni?”
    “1998,” he said. “May.”
    “What happened?” The question was a personal one, but no more than someone asking me why I tried to become a vampire, which he already knew.
    He concentrated harder on the egg whites. “My story’s not different than anyone else’s. I was recruited. I accepted and now I’m the well-adjusted jinni who stands before you.”
    I shook my head. “I want your story, Phoenix. Your unique story that is just yours.”
    He handed me the egg whites that had been whipped with sugar until soft peaks formed. “Divide it and really gently fold it into the chocolate.”
    “I can listen while I do this.”
    He laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “I don’t want to talk about my story. Not with you.”
    That hurt more than it probably should have. He knew a lot about my life, especially since becoming a half-vampire. In fact, he was on a very short list of people who actually knew that I was a half-vampire. In comparison, I knew next to nothing about him. I didn’t look at him as I worked and he didn’t try to talk to me further until it was time to fill the soufflé dish and put it in the oven.
    “How’d you learn to bake?” I asked.
    “I had an aunt I used to spend summers with and she taught me how to make all types of things. I’ve always enjoyed cooking. It’s…”
    “Relaxing,” we said at the same time.
    He shifted his gaze, focusing somewhere beyond my shoulder. His strong jaw locked. “No one is in a good place when they make a deal to become a