Devour Me (Master Chefs Series #1) (2 page)

For
a moment she thought he’d kiss her and she didn’t know is she should be shocked
or elated.

“The
first year’s tougher than you think. The best way to ace your classes is to pay
attention to everything the instructor does, and make sure you know what he or
she wants.”

A
few short, sharp breaths escaped her lips before she could speak.  “You don’t
say.”  She took a step back.  “I had kind of planned on that.”

Unable
to endure his intoxicating presence any longer, she turned to walk away, but he
pulled her back. “You have all these bags to bring to your apartment?”

“Yeah,
and I’m not really sure which entrance I’m supposed to take.”

“I
wish I could help you, but…”

She
nodded her understanding.  “It wouldn’t be appropriate…”

“No,”
he said as he flashed a magnificent smile worthy of a Hollywood close-up. “I
guess it wouldn’t.”

“Right.” 
Taryn snapped out of the daze that had taken over her brain.  He was to be her
teacher for the next semester and here she was already drooling all over him. 
She put her hand to the handle of her large suitcase and dreaded lugging it
around all alone.

“I’ll
see you in class.” He turned to walk away.

“Mr.
King,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.  “As inappropriate as it
may be, I really do need your help.  I could walk through this maze of
apartments for hours and I have all these bags to…”

“Say
no more.” With a warm smile that seemed to say so much, he slipped his hand
over hers and took her suitcase.

Chapter 1

T
hey walked to the address Taryn had scribbled
on a piece of paper, only to realize the address didn’t exist.

“I
don’t understand. I took this down as I spoke to the woman about the
apartment.  I know my French isn’t very good, but I know my numbers.”

“Phone
connections can sometimes be scratchy.  Maybe you misunderstood one of the
numbers.”  Errol took the piece of paper from her hand and looked at the
numbers.  “Follow me.”

Confident
he knew the apartment she was looking for, she followed him, but was surprised
when he stopped at a dark and expensive looking car.

“We
can’t spend all day running around in circles,” he explained when he caught her
gaze.  “This’ll be much easier.”

He
popped the trunk open and set her suitcase and bags in it then opened the
passenger door. 

“I
guess it’s a good thing you decided to stick around to help me,” Taryn said as
she slipped into the luxurious leather seat. 

When
she reached for the seatbelt, Errol took it from her hand.  “Here, let me. These
can be tricky sometimes.” He pulled the seatbelt over her and buckled her in,
his knuckles lightly brushing across her breasts, causing her to stop breathing
for a second. “There you go.  All set.” He pulled the buckle tight.

As
her gaze travelled over the rich interior and she fought to keep from running
her hands over the soft leather, she thought of all the horror stories she’d
read about Chef King.  He had a notorious reputation for being hard, harsh and
uncompromising.  On more than one occasion, sous-chefs have left the kitchen in
tears. Yet here he was, as charming as could be.

He
got into the driver’s seat and she took another look at him. Could it be his
rough and tough exterior hid a real sweetheart of a man?

“The
address you took down is six, four, four, one.  My guess is that you mistook a
seven for a six.”

As
he pulled into the street and turned in to opposite direction of the Institute,
her heart fell.  She’d planned on walking to school every day.  If he drove
much further and his guess was right… there was no money in her budget for
taxis; not even bus fare.

After
several blocks he pulled up in front of an old building that appeared rich with
history, but poor in luxury.

“This
is it.”

“The
architectural detail is pretty.”  She looked up at the trimmings on the windows
as she got out of the car.

“I
like your optimism.” Errol got her suitcases out of the trunk and slammed it
shut.

A
heavy set woman with a scowl permanently etched on her face came out on the
front steps and looked critically at the pair then skeptically at the expensive
car.  “Mademoiselle Cummings?”

“
Oui
,”
Taryn said, hoping the woman would simply hand her the key to her new abode and
not ask a million and one questions.

No
such luck.  The woman spewed out a torrent of French words that left Taryn
staring blankly at her from the curb.

“
C’est
tres bien
,” Errol said.

The
woman disappeared into the building.

“What
was all that?”

“Your
standard rules.  No parties.  No loud music.  No late payments. She’s going to
get your key.”

“Good. 
Thanks.”

They
waited for a moment, a moment that left Taryn terribly aware of all the
sensations that coursed through her body.  An hour ago she was just another
girl from New York trying to find her way in Paris and now she stood shoulder
to shoulder with the world’s most renown, not to mention the sexiest, chef.

“
Voila
.” 
The woman handed the keys to Errol and barely glanced at Taryn.

Even
at her age, the woman was taken in by Errol’s good looks and charm, Taryn
thought with a wry grin.

“
Merci
.”
Errol affectionately patted the woman’s hand as he took the keys, and even
offered her a flirtatious wink.

That
was enough to turn the permanent scowl into a brief, girlish smile.

With
suitcases in hand, they walked up the dingy and dimly lit stairs to the third
floor. Errol inserted the key and looked at Taryn.  “Ready.”

“As
I’ll ever be.”

He
opened the door and Taryn gagged.

The
tiny, miniscule apartment was as dingy as the stairwell.  From where she stood,
she could see the entire apartment; the kitchen counter to the right, a half
moon dining table pushed up to the wall on the left and a bed set in the middle
of it all.

“This
is the only place you could find?” Errol asked with unabashed disdain.

“It
was the only one I could afford.”  Tears stung her eyes as a sudden bout of
homesickness engulfed her.  She took a few uncertain steps into the apartment
and gagged again as the odor of mold and mildew assailed her nostrils.  Putting
her hand over her mouth and nose, she looked down at the bare mattress.  It was
heavily stained and several springs were painfully visible.  “I can’t believe…”
she muttered.

“This
is an abomination. How dare that woman.  I wouldn’t let a dog sleep here.”

His
comment did nothing to lighten her mood.

“I
have to let some fresh air in here.” Taryn headed to the window and pulled the
flimsy curtains aside.  A large spider, comfortably nestled in folds that had
apparently not moved in ages, dropped to the window sill.  “Oh, my God.”  The
hysterical scream shot out of her.

In
an instant, Errol was at her side and with his bare hand, put an end to the
ugly arachnid.

“Oh,
that was so gross,” Taryn said.

“You’re
welcome,” he shot over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen sink to wash
his hand.

Taryn
turned to him when she heard him grumble.  “Now what?”

“I
don’t know which is dirtier; my hand or the water.”  Rusty colored water
drizzled out of the ancient faucet.

Taking
a deep breath, Taryn dropped her gaze to the floor as the weight of the world
settled nicely on her shoulders. Paris… Glamour, fashion, the Eiffel Tower… and
this.  She looked outside and wasn’t at all surprised when she realized her
window faced a stone wall barely four feet away.

A
large lump of emotion rose to block her throat. Don’t you dare cry, she berated
herself.  You’re from New York, for heaven’s sake. Don’t you dare cry...
especially in front of Errol King.

She
unlatched the window and tugged it open.  The strong, pungent and nauseating
scent of urine quickly entered the room. “Oh, my God.”  She slammed the window
shut.

“This
place is unlivable. It should be condemned.”

“All
the other apartments in this building are rented out, so it is livable.  I
guess I just need to spend a bit of time sprucing it up.”

“Sprucing
it up?”

“Yeah.”
She tried to put some cheer in her voice.  “A nice coat of paint; yellow or
maybe pink.  I could buy some kind of mattress cover and top that with colorful
linen.”

“Really? 
And what about the smell?”

“Stores
are full of room deodorizers.  I’ll buy one that smells like vanilla.”

“I
think you’ll have to buy more than one.”

Trying
to remain optimistic, she ran her hand over the old porcelain kitchen sink, but
immediately brought her hand up when her fingers ran through something sticky. 
“Ew.”

“That’s
enough,” Errol said with finality.  “No amount of paint, linens and deodorizers
is going to make this place livable. We’ll have to find you something else.”

“Okay,”
she relented. “Tomorrow, I’ll look through the papers and try to find something
more suitable, but like I said, my budget doesn’t allow for anything more
expensive than this.”

“Budget
or not, you’re not staying here.”  He took a hold of her elbow. “Not even
tonight.”

“Hey,
wait a minute,” she said.  She freed herself and looked pointedly at him. “I’m
not rolling in dough as you apparently are.  This isn’t something I can just
fix with the snap of my fingers.  I can’t just whip out some gold card and have
everything I desire.  This is literally all I can afford.  I don’t even have
any money left over to take the bus to get to school.”

“All
the more reason for you to leave this place.”  With more determination, he
grabbed her arm.  “You really think you can walk this distance to and from
school every day?  And after the days you’ll be spending on your feet sautéing,
grilling and roasting?  You won’t last a week.”

“You
underestimate me.”  Though she didn’t pull her arm free, she planted her feet
to the floor and resisted his tug. “I’m from New York… New York City.  Do you
know what that means?”

“You
think that tough New York grit will be enough to help you survive here?  I’ll
say it again; you won’t last a week.”

“But…”

“Listen
to me.  If you’re as serious about becoming a chef as you say you are, you’ll
come with me, because all you’ll get from staying here is a failing grade, and
maybe diphtheria.”

“And
where are you planning on bringing me?”  An erotic thrill shot through her as
the sudden thought of living with him came to mind. No, she quickly corrected
herself.  He wouldn’t do that.  He couldn’t.

“A
place where you can actually inhale.”  With that he guided her in front of him,
picked up her bags and nudged her forward.

In
the car, Taryn watched as dingy old buildings turn into immaculate, historic
jewels. The sidewalks were wider, the lighting brighter and the view of the
Eiffel Tower… Taryn gasped when she saw it.

“It’s
such an iconic symbol of Paris.  I can’t believe I’m actually looking at the
real thing.”

“Get
used to it.” Errol guided the car into an underground parking lot and led the
way to the elevator.

When
he opened the door to an apartment, Taryn was immediately face with a
spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower.  Letting her bags fall to the floor, she
rushed to the large windows and looked over Paris.

“But
I can’t possibly impose myself on you,” she said, wishing desperately that he’d
argue the point.  As inappropriate as it was for her to be there, it was
exactly the Paris she’d hoped to experience. The place was breathtakingly
beautiful.

“It’s
no imposition.  I’m happy to help out.”

She
turned to him and wondered what excited her more; being there with him or being
in such a fabulous part of Paris. “I’ll look for a new place and I’ll be out of
your hair before you know it.”

“There’s
no rush.” He walked to his immaculate kitchen and opened the refrigerator. 
“Want something to drink?”

“I’ll
pay you what I was going to pay for the other apartment.” On finishing her
sentence, she bit her lip.  “Well… actually, I had already paid for the other
one and I’m going to be a bit low on cash, so…”

“Look,
don’t worry about all that.  I’d rather have you here where you can eat and
sleep and work hard in my class than to have you in that cesspool that would no
doubt have left you unable to function in class at all.”  He held up a blue
glass bottle. “Water?”

She
nodded and accepted the bottle.  “Well, that’s really nice of you, but I want
to do something to repay you.  Maybe there’s some work I can do around here,
you know… tidy up or something.”

“I
already have someone who takes care of that, but I’ll give your offer some
thought.”

“I
feel better if you did.”  She took a sip of the expensive looking bottled water
and was disappointed to find that it simply tasted like any other water she’d
ever tasted.

“Less
like an intruder?”

“Less
of a burden.”

“You
know, there is something you can do for me.”

“Great.
What is it? Paperwork? Laundry?  Cooking?”

They
looked at one another and laughed.

“I
think I can handle the cooking,” Errol said.  “No, Taryn, what I had in mind
was something completely different.”

Most
of her friends called her Taryn and she was often quick to invite new
acquaintances to do the same, yet she was certain she hadn’t asked Errol to do
so. She was caught off guard by how swiftly he’d become familiar with her.

“To
tell you the truth,” he went on.  “I hadn’t planned on mentioning it so soon,
after all we’ve just met, but since the opportunity has presented itself…”  He
set his bottle water on the granite countertop and stepped closer to her.  With
his eyes intently fixed on hers, he slipped his hands under her jacket and
pushed it off her shoulders.