Chapter 17

Chris unlocked his condo door Friday night and dropped his suitcase in the foyer. Closing the door, he leaned his back against it and closed his eyes.

God, he was tired.

And miserable.

But at least he was home, even if, thanks to his delayed flight, it was after midnight.

Pushing off from the door, he walked into the kitchen and checked his answering machine. No messages. Everybody's worried sick about me.

He'd hoped Melanie might have left him a message. Of course, he'd hoped she would call him in LA, but she hadn't. Then he'd hoped she might meet him at the Atlanta airport, but again, she hadn't.

He knew her loan had been approved. He'd spoken to Glenn Waxman, who'd filled him in on his conversation with Melanie.

So even though she'd gotten her loan, she still hadn't called. Obviously she was still angry with him.

Well, damn it, she was just going to have to get over it. He loved her too much to lose her. Now that there weren't three thousand miles between them, they would talk face to face and straighten things out. If she refused to listen to reason, he'd just Velcro her stubborn ass to the sofa until she changed her mind.

That settled, he headed toward his bedroom, loosening his tie on the way. He opened the bedroom door and froze.

Dozens of candles in every size, shape, and color, covered his furniture, bathing the room with soft, flickering light. A trail of fragrant flower petals led from the doorway toward the adjoining master bath.

As if in a trance, he followed the trail to the bathroom door, which stood slightly ajar. He gently pushed the door open.

He actually felt his jaw drop. Thank God it was attached to his face, or it would have fallen on the floor, taking his teeth with it.

More candles adorned the counter and surrounded the bathtub. Melanie reclined in the tub, surrounded by a mountain of fluffy bubbles. Her hair was piled on her head with several corkscrew tendrils surrounding her face. A bottle of champagne rested in an ice bucket on the floor with two crystal glasses next to it.

'It's about time you got home,' she murmured in a low, sexy voice.

He had to swallow to moisten his bone-dry throat. 'My, ah, flight was delayed.'

'I know. I called the airline.'

Because his collar suddenly felt too tight, he ran his finger around the neck to loosen it a bit. A fragrant puff of steam filled his nostrils, rendering him almost light-headed.

He cleared his throat. 'Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?'

A slow, wicked smile touched her lips. She lifted one long, soapy leg from the water. 'I'm taking a bath.'

Chris's gaze riveted on her shapely upraised leg. 'I see that. Does this mean you're not angry with me anymore?'

'You could say that. I spoke to your brother today. He still had his key and he let me in.' She ran a sudsy hand up her leg. 'I hope you don't mind.'

'Ah, no. I don't mind.' Chris made a mental vow to give Mark everything he owned in thanks.

Chris watched, glued in place as she slowly stood up. White bubbles left silky trails in their wake as they meandered down her body. His blood pressure spiked and his heart practically stalled when she crooked her finger at him.

'Come here,' she whispered.

He supposed his feet must have moved, because the next thing he knew, he was standing next to the tub.

'We're having a party,' she said, reaching out her wet hands to unknot his loosened tie, 'and you're waaaaay overdressed.'

Chris stood perfectly still, his eyes fastened on hers, while she pulled his tie from around his collar and dropped it on the floor. Then she set to work unbuttoning his dress shirt.

Slipping the top button free, she said, 'It occurred to me that we never went skinny-dipping.' The second and third buttons opened. 'While I realize this isn't a pool, it was the best I could do. We have all the skinny-dipping essentials-you, me, naked, water. And it does keep with our getting-wet tradition.'

She raised her gaze, and Chris immediately drowned in her warm, chocolaty depths.

'If you have any objections,' she said in a breathy voice that oozed sensuality, 'I suggest you speak now or forever hold your peace.'

He recalled saying those exact words to her before he'd made love to her the first time. 'The tub works for me.'

'Good.' She slipped the last button free. Placing her bath-warmed hands on his abdomen, she ran her palms up his chest.

With a groan, Chris tried to pull her to him, but she held him off, shaking her head.

'Not yet. There are a few things I need to say first.' She eased his suit jacket from his shoulders. It landed on the floor next to his tie with a soft thud.

Chris swallowed and fisted his hands to keep them off her. 'I'm listening.'

Cupping his face between her hands, she kissed him gently. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered against his mouth.

'No. I'm sorry. I should have told you right away. I tried-'

'I know,' she said, forestalling his words by placing her fingers against his lips. 'And I want you to know I was sorry before I found out that you'd booked twenty-seven parties for the Pampered Palate. I had a long talk with Nana and she made me realize how wrong I was… and how foolish.'

He brushed back a stray tendril of her hair. 'I never meant to hurt you, Melanie.'

'Of course you didn't. I was angry and hurt when I should have been proud of you for not compromising your principles and integrity, and grateful for your concern regarding my feelings.' She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his palm. 'I said some really hurtful things to you and I'm sorry.'

The hell with not holding her. Wrapping his arms around her, he dragged her up against him. Her breasts, warm and slippery from the bath, slid against his chest, forcing a groan from him.

He was about to kiss her when he noticed a tear glide down her cheek. 'Hey, don't cry.'

Another tear rolled down. 'I'm not crying.'

'Are, too.'

'Am not.'

He brushed away the tears. 'Okay. Why are you not crying?

'I'm… overcome. What you did for me. All those parties. It's what changed the loan officer's mind.'

'Glad to help.' He ran his hands down her bare back and cupped her buttocks. 'I'm not trying to rush you, sweetheart, but are you finished talking?'

'Just one more thing.'

'What's that?'

'I love you.'

Chris stilled. His heart seemed to stall, then jump back to life with an electric spark.

'I want you to know,' she whispered, her big brown eyes swimming with more tears, 'I'm not saying that because of what you did for me. I fell in love the instant I saw you. But I was so afraid.'

'Of what?'

'Everything. That you'd turn out to be another Todd. Afraid I was falling too fast. But Nana straightened me out on that, too.' She smiled. 'She told me how long it takes to fall in love.'

'Yeah? How long?'

'A moment. It only takes a moment.'

'Well, I have to agree with her. That's about how long it took me to fall in love with you.' He touched her cheek. 'You're not afraid anymore?'

'Not unless you've changed your mind.'

'About what?'

She dropped her chin. 'Loving me,' she said in a small voice.

He waited for her to look at him. When she raised her head, he cupped her face, her beautiful, tear-stained face

Вы читаете Kiss The Cook
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату
×