Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out

“After the bread crumbs, drop it into the hot oil.”

“Ouch.”

“Fry for two to three minutes until golden brown.”

“Whatever happened to tender?”

She refused to look at him. “Serve immediately, or they’ll wither.”

Mitch broke into laughter.

When they cut to commercial break, Dimi whirled on him. “I don’t appreciate the comments.”

“I don’t appreciate the choice of today’s menu. Frying balls, Dimi? Gee, is there a message in there somewhere? And what was that with the frosting, huh? Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“It’s a short drive,” she told him, sounding superior.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your problem, anyway?”

“What’s my problem?” They were nose to nose, and nearly yelling. “Nothing. I have no problem.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Okay, how about this? When exactly were you going to tell me you were leaving in two days? Maybe after tonight’s trip to my house to see what you could…cook up?”

That took him aback. His voice was much quieter. “I meant to tell you last night, but you sidetracked me.”

“Because I forced you into the bathroom and had my way with you?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly kick me out! Not until you were finished, anyway.”

Most of the crew had given them a wide berth, though they were watching every move from just off the stage in utter fascination.

“That’s what this is about, right?” Mitch said. “Last night.”

“Oh, you’re quick, Mr. Ace Producer, I’ll give you that.”

His eyes were fire, his jaw tight. His entire body was tense and practically shimmering with barely restrained… something.

God, she hoped it was lust. She so wanted them to be even in this amazing, overwhelming frustration.

“Dammit, Dimi…” He shoved his hands through his hair and finally seemed to realize they had an audience. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into a relatively private corner of the set. “Last night you kicked me out when you were done with me like unwanted garbage.”

“What was I supposed to do? When I said I was revoking my no-man rule, you nearly fainted.”

“Yes, because you’ve been so adamant about that damn rule. I’d grown to count on it to keep us sane, because we both know how this is going to end, Dimi. I’m going back to Los Angeles.” He stopped, frustration and heat pouring off him. “Now is a hell of a time to tell me about the rule thing not being valid.”

“Maybe I just decided. Did you ever think of that?” She stopped and looked at him. “Mitch, why didn’t you tell me how soon you were leaving? You should have told me.”

He looked at her with such…longing, it stole her breath. “It’s not that easy.”

“So last night was a goodbye?” The word hurt, and her voice caught.

His gaze softened, and so did his voice. “Last night was a necessity, and you know it.”

“Yes, because you thought you were safe from the clutches of anything serious.”

“Okay. Yes. Yes, I thought I was safe from anything serious.”

Stunned, she stared at him. God, the truth hurt. She was hugely sorry she’d asked for that truth. “You’re a jerk.”

“Oh, fine. Now I’m a jerk.” He tossed up his hands. “I can’t keep up with you!”

“It’s not that hard!”

“Are you kidding?” He ticked off his complaints on his fingers. “You don’t want a man, you do want a man. You like being the serious queen, yet you like being the sexy chef. Look at you. Today you’re-” He waved a hand down her very snug, very chic, very sexy pantsuit. “Looking like that, and licking your lips at me, talking in my ear about not wearing any underwear-I’d like to know how a man is supposed to concentrate on anything knowing that! And you even grabbed my butt!”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“But you did!”

“I know,” she said miserably.

“I can’t take it, Dimi. I just can’t.”

She’d wanted him every bit as teased and tormented as she was, and it appeared she’d been successful.

What now?

She hadn’t a clue. But she couldn’t leave it like this. There was only one thing left to do.

Call Cami, of course. “Hold on,” she said to Mitch. “I need a second.”

“Now?”

“It’s important.” Turning her back, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed. Thankfully Cami picked up.

“Okay, I’m in a bit of a bind,” Dimi whispered, plugging her other ear with a finger. “So think quick. I’ve done what we discussed and I have him as frustrated as I am.” She glanced at Mitch over her shoulder, then whipped around because he was watching her with a growing intensity she didn’t know how to face. “Now what?” she pleaded. “Help me.”

Before Cami could answer, Mitch grabbed the phone, pulled out the battery and tossed it over his shoulder. “You’re on your own in this, baby. Look at me.” He turned her around. “Look at me and tell me what you want from me, because I’m confused as hell and need a clue.”

Dimi looked into his glimmering eyes and knew the truth. She knew what she wanted from him. She wanted him to love her.

As much as she’d come to love him.

Talk about screw-ups.

“You’re on the air in two seconds!”

Mitch was staring at her, his breathing erratic, his expression charged. Lord, he was magnificent, but he was leaving, and he didn’t want her to want him for anything other than what they’d already had.

Saved by her own show, Dimi went to her mark, intending to go on with life.

12

IT WAS very male of him, he knew this, but all Mitch could concentrate on was Dimi’s lack of underwear.

And that had been nearly two days ago.

He was dying to ask her if she’d spoken the truth about not wearing panties, or better yet, to find out for himself, but given the dark expression on her face whenever he caught a glimpse of her, he figured it was a bad idea.

In fact, everything about her was a bad idea. Coaxing her out of her seriousness. The new and wild clothes. Showing her the passion that simmered just beneath her surface.

Now everything she did made him want her all the more. Every look, every touch, every word. He’d been reduced to nothing more than one big, aching hormone.

Hell of a spot to be in for a man who’d been there, done that and figured there were no surprises left to be had.

He’d told himself all he wanted from Dimi had been sex, but really, it was far more complicated than that. He wanted in her head. He wanted to share her hopes and dreams. And dammit, he wanted another chance to have her naked in his arms, to make more wild, passionate love.

Love.

How was that for terror?