Kiss The Cook

bank's decision concerning Melanie's loan. Would he lose her if the bank turned her down?

No. Damn it, he wouldn't allow that to happen.

Needing to touch her, he held her hand the entire way home, and the instant the condo door closed behind them, he pulled her to him, kissing her with a heated desperation unlike anything he'd ever felt before. His hungry lips trailed a hot path down her neck while his restless hands slid up her thighs, under her skirt.

'I don't think we're going to make it to the bedroom,' he whispered against her mouth. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her tennis panties and slid them down over her hips.

'I don't think we're going to make it out of the foyer,' Melanie agreed in a breathless voice, her fingers busily working on his shorts.

'How do you feel about the floor?' he asked, pulling her top from her skirt.

'Works for me.'

* * *

'This floor is damn hard,' Melanie moaned fifteen minutes later. 'I feel a killer cramp coming on.'

Chris, lying flat on his back next to her on the hardwood, grimaced in clear agreement. 'Next time let's at least try and make it to the sofa, okay?'

'Agreed. At the very least you need a rug in here. I just want to know which one of us is going to get up and call the paramedics for the other one.'

A chuckle rumbled from him. 'Hey, we kicked some serious butt on the tennis courts. Thanks for helping me put Dave in his place. I'm going to rename you Martina Navratilova.'

'Thank you, Jimmy Connors.' Melanie raised herself on one elbow and gazed down at him. He looked happy and tired, but unless she was mistaken, and it appeared obvious she wasn't, he was well on his way toward full- blown arousal again. A half-laugh, half-groan escaped her. Looking pointedly at his groin, she asked, 'Good grief, is that what I think it is?'

Lifting his head off the floor, Chris looked down at himself. 'I'm afraid so.' Moaning, he rolled to his feet then helped her up. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, he said, 'C'mon, Martina. Let's wander into the bedroom and you can finish paying off your debt of honor. Then, in keeping with our getting-wet-on-every-date tradition, we'll take a shower. After that you can teach me how to cook. How does that sound?'

Melanie's heart squeezed. How did that sound? 'It sounds like heaven.'

* * *

They didn't get around to their cooking lesson until late Sunday afternoon.

Dressed in shorts and her favorite Kiss the Cook T-shirt, Melanie forced herself to concentrate on the lesson, but it was darn hard to do when her pupil kept nuzzling her neck.

'Behave yourself,' she scolded in her best schoolmarm voice. 'What kind of student are you?'

'I'm just following directions,' Chris said. He brushed his fingertips over her breasts. 'It clearly says right here to kiss the cook.'

'If you don't knock it off, I'll have to take this shirt off.'

'Great! Boy, this cooking sure is fun!'

Melanie grabbed a wooden spoon and held it poised like a sword. 'Don't make me get rough with you.'

He waggled his brows. 'This gets better and better.'

Planting her hands on her hips, she said, 'Back off. Cooking is serious business. No fooling around until we're done.'

'Then let's hurry up and get done 'cause fooling around sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than cooking. Carry on, fearless chef.'

'That's better.' She nodded toward the ingredients she'd lined up on Chris's kitchen counter. 'If you only know how to make one thing,' she said in a businesslike tone, 'then this is the thing you should know how to make.'

Chris looked at the assembled items. 'What are we making?'

'I call it 'The Only Sauce You'll Ever Need.' You can use it for dozens of things, it's very simple to prepare, and you don't have to use exact amounts of any of the ingredients.'

'Sounds good to me. The only things I know how to make are steak, potatoes, and martinis.'

'Not anymore. The first thing you do is coarsely chop about a dozen plum tomatoes.' She demonstrated, using deft strokes of a sharp knife.

'That looks easy.'

'Then we're in good shape because that's the hardest part.' She continued her lesson, adding chopped onions, minced garlic, olive oil, chopped fresh basil, and salt and pepper to the bowl of tomatoes. 'That's it,' she said, stirring the ingredients with a wooden spoon.

'You're kidding.'

'Nope. It's so easy, it's almost laughable.'

Chris peered into the bowl. 'What do you do with it?'

For an answer, Melanie opened a bag of Mexican-style tostado chips. Dunking one into the sauce, she held it up to his lips.

He bit and chewed. 'Hey, that's great.'

She nodded. 'It makes a fabulous salsa. At the Pampered Palate we call it 'Italian Salsa' because of the basil. If you slice and toast Italian bread and pour this sauce over it, you'll have a delicious bruschetta appetizer. For a main course, heat the sauce, toss it into a bowl of pasta and sprinkle on Parmesan cheese and you're all set. It's also great on salads instead of dressing, and it turns an ordinary omelette into a masterpiece.'

'I can see why you call it 'The Only Sauce You'll Ever Need.''

She handed him a recipe card with the Pampered Palate's logo printed in the corner. 'I guarantee you'll impress whoever you make this for.' The instant the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Stupid, stupid! How long before he stood in his kitchen, preparing her recipe while nuzzling some other woman's neck?

She wanted him to say something like 'I'll never make this for anyone but you.' Instead, he dipped another chip and said, 'I'll be the most impressive guy in town. Thanks, Mel.'

Clenching her hands, she fought the spurt of hot jealousy shooting through her. Get a grip, Melanie! Affairs end. Sooner or later, she and Chris would part ways. He'd move on to the next woman, continuing his bachelor lifestyle, while she… while she what?

Focused on her business? Yes. But while she easily envisioned Chris entertaining a different supermodel type every night, she couldn't imagine herself with any other man.

And that's when she knew that in order to save herself from a shattered heart, she needed to end this affair.

Just end it. A clean break. The longer this went on, the more impossible picking up the pieces would become. She did not want to be in love, and by damn, she was going to get herself out of love. Right now. Even if the effort killed her.

And she suspected it would do just that.

Chapter 14

Melanie prepared herself during the ride back to her house. As soon as Chris parked the car, she'd recite her breezy 'Thanks, it's been great, have a nice life' speech, then skip into the house. Easy as pie.

It was the heartache she knew lurked around the corner that scared her silly.

Chris parked the Mercedes in her driveway. Before she could speak, he asked, 'What's troubling you, Mel Gibson? You're awfully quiet.'