A Catered Romance (15 page)

“Seventeen hundred.” The attorney.

“Now we’re cooking,” bellowed the auctioneer.

“Thirty-five hundred.” Tom.

Ripples of excitement swept the crowd. Mary Beth’s cheeks burned. She must look like a Christmas decoration. Bright red skin against the green of her dress.

She slid a glance toward Taylor. With a frantic look on her face, the other woman leaned over to whisper to Tom. Mary Beth hadn’t thought it possible the blonde could get any paler, but her white features made fresh snow look like an artist’s palette.

“Any more bids?” yelled the auctioneer. “Going once—”

“Four thousand.” The attorney.

“Six thousand.” Tom.

A hush settled over the audience. Tension throbbed like a palpable force. Mary Beth’s mind shut down.

“Six thousand dollars. Going once. Going twice. Sold to the gentleman in the second row.”

The auctioneer’s excited voice and the crowd’s enthusiastic applause penetrated the fog in Mary Beth’s brain. Like an accident victim in shock, she turned her head slowly in Tom’s direction.

Taylor jumped up, and with a toss of her head, stormed out. Tom stared at Mary Beth, a challenge in his darkened gaze.

Mary Beth pressed a hand to her stomach. Did anyone really believe Tom paid six thousand dollars just for dinner?

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Men! Mary Beth pulled the asparagus steamer out of her bag and plunked it on the black granite counter in Tom’s kitchen. It voiced its protest with a loud clang. Knife in hand, she began trimming the thick ends off the vegetables she’d set out earlier.

Damn Tom! Embarrassing her in front of all those people at the auction two weeks ago. She chopped faster. And when she’d arrived at his house today his housekeeper mentioned he had a special lady coming for dinner. What a way to spend Saturday night, cooking for Tom and a date. Would it be Taylor? Or someone new?

Pain, sharp as the instrument she held, sliced into her at the picture of Tom with another woman. She lopped the end off the last stalk with enough force to scratch the plastic cutting board.

Mary Beth lay the knife down before she cut herself next, and shoved away from the counter. Jamming her hands in her apron pockets, she turned to face Tom’s spacious kitchen, done in shades of black, gray and white.

What other women had he brought into his kitchen, into his house? Into his bed? “No.” She shook her head. Thoughts like that weakened her. She had to stay angry. Anger kept the heartache at bay.

Straightening, she headed toward the refrigerator. She had a six thousand dollar meal to prepare.

What had Tom been thinking? Six thousand dollars for dinner? Had he meant to embarrass her or had his competitive nature kicked in? The Tom she used to know needed to win, at all costs. Maybe he hadn’t changed after all.

Focus on the food
, she told herself as she yanked open the stainless steel door of the refrigerator. Her gaze swept over the shelves she’d stocked earlier. Paper-thin slices of smoked salmon and the finest Russian caviar cooled in crystal bowls covered with plastic wrap.

The cinnamon scent of Gail’s apple crisp made her mouth water. She’d bake the rich concoction in delicate pastry shells. Homemade cinnamon ice cream waited in the freezer, a delicious accompaniment to the baked dessert.

She grabbed the bag of mixed greens and tossed it on the counter next to the raspberry vinaigrette ingredients. Wiping her hands on a towel, she glanced at the bay window. Dusk was settling outside. Tom would be home soon. He’d had to go into the office today to resolve a problem, his housekeeper had said. Would he have his date with him?

Mary Beth pushed the refrigerator door shut and leaned against it, closing her eyes. The pain of missing Tom all these weeks and knowing he would be with another woman tonight seared through her.

Fingering the gold chain around her neck like a calming talisman, she stared across the room to where stainless steel pots hung from a rack. She had steel in her too and she would get through this night.

With renewed determination, she strode across the tiled floor to the oven and pulled open the door. The succulent odor of orange duck greeted her. Almost done. The brioche would go in soon and then—

“Hello, Mary Beth.” Tom’s deep voice rang out behind her.

She jumped back. The oven door slammed shut. She turned to face him.

“I hope that’s not a soufflé in there,” he said.

“It’s not.” She hated that her voice sounded thin.

“Whatever it is, it smells delicious.” Tom stood just inside the doorway, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, his black T-shirt stretching over the broadness of his chest. She dug her nails into her palms, fighting her weakness for him.

“Must you always sneak up on me?” she said, dredging up her anger.

He raked fingers through his thick hair. “I see your attitude hasn’t improved over the past weeks.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She put her hand on her hip and glared at him.

They stared at each other. The rigid set of his shoulders mirrored the tension brewing in her.

“Forget it,” he said.

“Where’s your date?” she asked, forcing coolness into her voice.

“Date?” He frowned.

“I thought...” She raised her chin. “You bid on dinner for two.”

His eyes searched hers. “So I did. Don’t concern yourself with my date.”

Anger and hurt mixed in her stomach. “I am not concerned with your date. Dinner’s almost ready. If you know anything about cooking, timing is everything.”

He stepped close, dangerously close. She inhaled the woodsy, masculine scent of the outdoors that clung to him. Her breathing quickened.

“Was the timing off between us?” he said in a low voice. “Is that the problem?”

She resisted the impulse to back away from him and the temptation he offered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just want to finish this meal and leave.”

He touched her chin with his fingers and tilted her face until their eyes met. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His heated touch filled her with longing. She pulled free.

“You don’t trust me,” he said. “Or maybe you don’t trust yourself.”

The truth of his words hit her like ice water sprinkled on her face. She pressed her back against the counter and crossed her arms. “You made a spectacle of me at the auction,” she said, anxious to change the subject. “Bidding an outrageous sum for dinner. No one in the audience believed you paid six thousand dollars just for my cooking.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “The money goes to a good cause. I attended that auction for only one reason. And I got what I wanted.”

“What was that?”

“What do you think?” he growled.

She met his fiery gaze and swallowed. “To publicly humiliate me?”

His head snapped back, as if struck. “Humiliate you? What do you take me for?”

She flinched at the bitterness in his voice and slid her gaze from his.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around her braid where it rested on her shoulder and gently pulled her to face him. “I wanted to have dinner with you.” His voice was harsh. “I needed to talk to you. But every time I saw you it was strictly business.”

“Dinner? You paid six thousand dollars to have dinner with me?”

“Yes, crazy as it sounds.”

She locked her gaze with his, looking to confirm the honesty of his words, startled by what she saw there. Yearning sliced through her.

“You could have told me,” she said. “I don’t appreciate being used.” She couldn’t stop the huskiness that had seeped into her voice. The light in his blue eyes showed he heard it too.

“Used? I would never use you.” Despite his words, his tone had softened. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her closer. “I could say you used me, Cat Eyes.”

At her quick intake of breath, he put his finger over her lips. “But you wouldn’t do that to me. I know you better than that. What happened, Mary Beth?”

“Nothing,” she said, averting her eyes.

He touched her chin, making her look at him. She knew she should pull away but she wanted his nearness. She wanted him.

“Something is going on,” he said. “I thought we were friends. More than friends.”

“We’re in business together.” She shook her head. “Nothing more. It can’t be anything more.” No matter how rebellious her heart, she wouldn’t succumb.

“Why can’t there be anything more between us?” he said quietly. His warm breath whispered across her face.

The huskiness in his voice and the tenderness in his eyes made heat rush through her.

“I’ve missed you, Cat Eyes. I couldn’t stay away.” He lowered his head to take her lips in a kiss that told her the truth of his words. She put her hands on his chest and stood stiffly in his arms, trying to hold onto her last crumbs of pride. But her own desires and his gentleness had her bones softening like melted butter. She swayed against him.

The timer shrilled. The high-pitched tone jarred her and she jumped away. They stared at each other. His ragged breathing matched hers. With a trembling hand, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

The timer continued to pierce the charged atmosphere. “Dammit,” Tom muttered.

He left her to stride across the room. She hugged herself, missing the security of his arms.

He turned off the timer and the oven with quick flicks of his wrist. Reality filled her with uncertainties. The echoes of Taylor’s bitter prediction twisted like a knife inside her. She scooted to the far end of the counter.

“This is not about missing me,” she said, clutching at her last shred of dignity. “This is simply because you hate to lose anything, or anyone.”

He turned and faced her. His harsh expression and the firm set of his jaw hinted at tightly controlled emotions. She chewed her lip, unable to look away.

“There’s nothing simple about anything between us, Mary Beth. And I grew out of my need to win a long time ago.”

“Really? You don’t call a bidding war at the auction competitive?”

“The prize was worth the fight,” he said with the flash of a smile.

She swallowed. “I’m just a commodity, then?”

Lines of fatigue and frustration bracketed his mouth. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

She folded her arms over her chest, sure he could hear the wild beating of her heart across the expanse of kitchen.

He walked slowly toward her, a predator stalking his prey. She backed into the counter.

“What will it take for you to believe me?” he said in a tortured voice.

“Believe what?” she whispered.

He slid his palms down her arms to take her hands in his. “Believe that I want to be with you,” he said in a husky voice. “That I miss you when you’re not around.”

Her fears began to slowly evaporate under his searching gaze.

“I-I want to believe you, Tom,” she said, lowering her head. “But I’m afraid.” Her admission shook her

“Afraid of what? Look at me, Mary Beth.”

She looked deeply into his eyes and knew she couldn’t stop loving him any more than she could stop breathing. She shivered.

“You haven’t answered me.” He squeezed her hands. “What are you afraid of?”

“Please don’t ask me that. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

He released her. “You are the most frustrating and stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” He took a deep breath. “But I won’t pressure you. I’m willing to wait until you’re ready to tell me what’s in that beautiful head of yours. I want to see you and spend time with you. And not just during business hours.”

Alarm bells in her head threatened to deafen her. He hadn’t said he loved her or made any promises. How long before she ceased to be a challenge? And could she survive losing him a second time?

Staring into his eyes, she pushed aside the anxiety that gripped her. She was tired of fighting her feelings. She loved him so much and she wanted to be with him, even if only for a little while.

“I-I want to be with you too,” she whispered.

Relief washed over his features. He gathered her to him.

“My Cat Eyes,” he whispered.

She barely noticed his fingers working her braid until she felt her hair tumble over her shoulders and down her back. He twisted his hand in her hair, gently pulling her head back, and dipped his head to kiss a sensuous line along her throat.

“I want you so much,” he whispered against her throat. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“I want you too.” She could no longer deny her hunger for him, a hunger that grew stronger every time she saw him.

His mouth covered hers in an urgent kiss that shattered what little control she had. She returned his kiss, opening her mouth, giving him entry into her body and her heart.

He pulled her closer, cupping her buttocks while his tongue ravaged her mouth. His hard arousal pressed against her stomach. Low moans she barely recognized as her own escaped into the quiet room.