Some Like It Hot (10 page)

“Oh, flattered, definitely,” Eva said, a little dismayed by her own breathlessness. “I have very discerning tastes.”

Okay, that wasn’t always true. Eva had more than her share of wince-worthy men in her past. But in this case?

She watched the way Danny Lunden commanded the backseat of this borrowed car as if it were the throne room of a palace, his handsome face made intriguing and appealing by the slight rasp of stubble along his jaw, the firm set of his extremely kissable mouth.

No, this time, Eva was sure, she’d have absolutely no regrets.

“I don’t know if you’re aware,” Danny said, very politely, although his eyes flashed with something sharper and more dangerous. “But I’m in the middle of a culinary competition that could make or break my career, and restore the reputation of my family’s restaurant. Now isn’t really the best time for me to be concerned with getting my rocks off.”

“Please.” Eva dismissed that as the weak excuse it clearly was. “Now is the perfect time. You’re stressed, tense, uptight—you need some release, hotshot, or you’re going to burn out.”

“Or I need to concentrate on what really matters.”

Eva uncrossed her legs slowly, letting her left calf brush along his right shin. The contact sent a shower of invisible sparks through the car, charging the air with electricity. Eva’s breath quickened, and from the way Danny’s chest rose and fell, she thought his had picked up, too. Eyes locked on his dark gaze, Eva slipped her feet out of her Louboutins and curled her legs beneath her on the seat so that she knelt facing him. Her dress rode up farther still, almost high enough to show him what color undies she had on.

“Danny,” she said, exhaling his name on a sigh. “Don’t kid yourself. This matters.” And she leaned forward, braced one hand on the strong round muscle of his shoulder, and kissed him.

He was motionless under her touch for a single, agonizing heartbeat before he broke with a growl like a wolf caught in a trap, and hauled her into his lap.

His mouth opened, sharp teeth nipping, tongue caressing, and Eva sank into it with a purr of satisfaction. It was every bit as good as it had been before—better, even, because this time she was prepared for the sudden jolt of lust, the frenzy of hunger to taste all of him, immediately and deeply and more now yes please more more more.

Her dress had rucked up high enough to get her legs around his waist, so she straddled him. Framing his scratchy cheeks between her palms, Eva pressed her hips into his, making them both shake with need.

It took everything she had not to rub herself against the stiff fabric of his pants, the enticing hardness of his thick erection pushing between them and driving her wild.

The physical proof that Danny wanted this as much as she did enabled Eva to take a deep breath and center herself. Circling her hips slowly, she found a rhythm that made him shudder and bite at her mouth. The fragile, damp silk of her underwear was no shield against the onslaught of sensation.

Tremors raced through her, little lightning shocks of pleasure and need zipping up and down her spine. Thank God she’d had the foresight and planning to push Danny in the direction of a car without a cameraman. The last thing she needed was for a sex tape to start making the rounds of the Internet.

Panting into the kiss, Eva clutched at the short, soft spikes of Danny’s light brown hair and let herself move hard and purposefully while his hands swept up her back and around her sides to cover the swells of her breasts.

Rearing back to gasp in a breath, Eva stared down at Danny. Desire was obvious on his face now, the lines of his cheekbones and mouth stark with hunger.

Eva savored the intensity of his focused gaze, the wet sheen on his chiseled lips. His desire fed hers like dry kindling stoking a fire, and when Danny palmed her breasts and flicked his thumbs over the hard points of her nipples, she let the moment take her and shatter her into a million pieces.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, eyes shining up at her as he watched her come apart, and his words sent another shiver of delight all through her, a rich echo of the explosion.

“Mmm.” She smiled and slumped, boneless, against him. It was perilously close to cuddling, but she was too smug and satiated to care. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The insistent jut of his erection nudged the notch of her thighs where she was wet and so, so sensitive, making her sigh and wiggle closer. She snuck a hand down between them to pet at the straining length.

Danny sucked in air, his lean belly going taut against her reaching arm.

Oh, she liked that.

Looking for more reaction, Eva leaned her head on his shoulder and curled her fingers, fighting the stubborn fabric of his jeans to get a better grip. His neck smelled like salt and smoke, with an underlying hint of sweetness, as if his skin were dusted with a fine coating of powdered sugar.

“Wait,” he said, voice strangled. “Don’t—” Eva lifted her head to frown at him, but before she could make it clear she had no intention of leaving him hanging—she didn’t play that way—her phone blared a few menacing bars of Darth Vader’s theme music, loud and jarring even from the depths of her purse. It was her father’s ringtone.

And … the mood was officially killed.

Great. Only Eva’s dad could cockblock her from three states away.

“I have to take this call.” Eva sat up abruptly. Danny could only be grateful that she seemed aware of how much damage she could do to a man in his condition, even as she scrambled off his lap and dove for her purse.

While the ominous orchestrals faded and began to cycle back up for a repeat, she managed to wrestle the phone free and get it up to her ear.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, and wow. That was exactly what Danny needed to hear.

Instant soft-on.

Although if he wanted it to last, he really couldn’t look at her, perched on her knees in the seat beside him, red dress up around her hips and showing tantalizing glimpses of her flimsy, expensive-looking panties, all black satin and red lace edging dark against her creamy white skin.

Or the delicate pink flush of arousal still staining her cheeks and neck, and the lush fullness of her just-kissed mouth … Danny shifted uncomfortably and pressed the heel of his hand against his painfully renewed erection.

He tuned back in to Eva’s conversation in the hopes that it might have the same effect on him as before.

“No, everything’s going great,” she was saying brightly, confidence in every syllable.

But, Danny noticed, her knuckles were white with tension where she gripped the phone.

“Dad. I’ve got this handled—the RSC is going to be bigger and better than ever this year! And the TV thing is going to work out. You don’t have to worry…” She broke off for a moment, eyes going wide with dismay. “No! I mean … I know how busy you are … I’d love to see you, too, but Dad … look, let’s plan something for after the competition, okay? … oh. No, of course you’ll be at the finals. I’m not trying to keep you away, I just don’t need my father checking up on me!”

That mouth of hers that always seemed half a beat away from a smirk didn’t look quite so sleek and teasing now. In fact, it looked like she was having to work to keep it from trembling and giving her away as she turned a little toward the window and lowered her voice.

“You said you trusted me to run the show this year, to take things up a notch. Are you going back on that?”

A long, taut moment strung out like a coiled wire, until suddenly her shoulders relaxed and she closed her eyes.

Danny let out the breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding. What the hell? This was none of his business. He shouldn’t even be listening in.

Which didn’t stop him from straining to catch her last, quiet words to her father.

“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, sounding truly grateful. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

It hit Danny like a ten-pound sack of flour to the head. How many times had he said that exact same thing to his parents? Well, he didn’t call his father
Daddy
, but other than that … it was pretty much the refrain of Danny’s entire life.

Eva said good-bye and hit the off button on her phone, and this time when her shoulders dropped, Danny was pretty sure it was relief. He watched her take a deep breath and turn back to him, the carefree, come-hither look on her face carefully constructed, perfectly beautiful … and completely fake.

“Now,” she said, dropping her phone back in her purse, and slinking over to him. “Where were we?”

“You can put the womanly wiles away,” he told her. “I was just about to tell you I’m fine. No need for reciprocation.”

She looked confused. It was kind of adorable. “But. That’s not how it works.”

And then it was kind of sad. Danny gentled his voice; it was easier to do now that her conversation with her father, and Danny’s own unwilling empathy, had completely trumped his urge to mate. “I don’t know who you usually date, or get busy with, or whatever you want to call it—but sex doesn’t always have to be about an equal exchange of orgasms. We’re not talking about the free-market economy here. It’s pleasure. And believe me, I got plenty out of watching you lose control like that. So we’re good, sweetheart. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know I don’t owe you,” she said testily, jerking her hem down her legs and unfolding herself into a more normal sitting position. Danny didn’t want to be charmed by the annoyance in her voice, but he couldn’t help it.

“Do you?” He leaned back and studied her. It was gratifying to be able to so thoroughly discombobulate her. He’d bet it didn’t happen often.

“I’m not some innocent little virgin,” she said, digging through her huge purse—how the hell did she find anything in there?—and coming up with a tube of lipstick. “I know all about sex, and pleasure, and what two consenting adults can do together.”

While she efficiently reapplied the slick red lacquer he’d—oh man—kissed off her, Danny struggled to maintain his cool.

“No virgin kisses the way you do.” His voice came out on the hoarse, growly side, and Danny swallowed hard. “Besides,” he went on. “Can you honestly still be in the mood for nooky when you just got off the phone with your father?”

She stiffened, but he pretended not to notice. “Because I have to say, even thinking about my parents … well, that pretty much puts my sex drive in neutral every time.”

Eva smiled, as he hoped she would, and relaxed a bit. “I guess you couldn’t help overhearing.”

“It’s a nice car,” Danny said, “I’ve never been in a backseat that actually has one of those privacy shields like in the movies. But it’s not quite big enough that I can pretend I didn’t catch the gist of your conversation.”

“My father founded this competition almost twenty years ago,” Eva said. “I guess you probably know that already. Actually, though, it wasn’t his idea. It was my mom’s.”

Now, that was interesting. Danny racked his brain for what he knew about Eva’s parents.

Theo Jansen was a legend in the restaurant world—his empire stretched from upscale French places in New York City to glitzy celebrity chef outposts in Las Vegas. Pretty much everything the man touched turned to caviar and champagne.

But his legend extended beyond the dining room. Theo Jansen was reputed to be the consummate ladies’ man. He showed up at restaurant and club openings with a different socialite or supermodel or Broadway starlet every night of the week, and the stories about what he got up to with those ladies … well, Danny had never thought about what it would be like to hear salacious gossip starring his own father, but he didn’t see how it could fail to fuck a kid up.

When he considered it from that angle, it wasn’t any wonder that, according to the culinary gossip hotline, Eva was doing her level best to follow in her father’s footsteps—both in business and in pleasure.

But try as he might, Danny couldn’t remember a single story about whatever had happened to Eva’s mother. He couldn’t even think of the woman’s name.

If he’d been asked to guess, Danny would probably imagine she’d been a trophy wife, or something, and was living out her generous alimony settlement in some Italian villa.

At least, that would’ve been his default before this moment, in the close, intimate confines of this car’s backseat, across from Eva Jansen—who still looked recently ravished, and smelled like sweet, satisfied woman. Something about the way Eva hunched in on herself, so different from her usual brash confidence, told Danny there was more to it than that.

“Oh yeah?” seemed like the safest response he could give.

“She loved to cook, the skill and technique and artistry of it, and she thought it was horribly unfair that there was no venue for chefs to hone their talents by competing against one another, and be recognized by the entire nation for their accomplishments.”

Loved. Past tense.

Oh, Eva.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Danny said, “She was right. There are so many chefs in cities across America, doing good work, putting out fantastic food. The RSC does a great job of showcasing those people and giving them a place to shine.”

“And a chance at an even bigger future,” Eva said, conviction brightening her eyes and making them sparkle. “That’s what I want to do—make my mother’s dream a reality.”

Danny had no idea why it surprised him to find out that Eva was a true believer under all her glitz, glamour, and ruthless maneuvering; he already knew she was a living, breathing contradiction in terms.

“For what it’s worth,” he told her, “I think you’re doing a pretty good job. So far.”

Shit. Good thing that wasn’t awkward, or anything.

But Eva gave him a small smile. “Actually, it’s worth a lot. Thanks. I know you wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it.”

Danny had about two seconds to wonder how she knew that about him before he registered the fact that the car was slowing to a stop in front of a giant Fresh Foods grocery store.

“Looks like we’re here,” he said, unnecessarily, but damn it. The atmosphere in the car was still pretty thick with embarrassment, overlaid by the taunting aroma of sex and hunger, and Danny wasn’t exactly functioning at his best.

This was why he was supposed to keep his distance from Eva Jansen, he reminded himself. She was the world’s most dangerous distraction.

Shaking his head in self-disgust, Danny popped the lock on the door and started to get out, only to be stopped by a slim hand gripping his elbow.

“Wait … before you go.” Eva glanced down, then up at him through her sooty lashes. It was a very pretty picture she made, softer and more vulnerable than he was used to seeing her. “I just wanted to say … thanks. For everything. And if you could keep this whole thing to yourself, I’d really appreciate it.”

A ball of nausea coiled in his belly. He’d never been treated like a disposable sex toy before.

It wasn’t as much fun as he would’ve imagined.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said curtly. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Her head came up, silvery cat eyes widening in what looked like shock. “Oh! No, not about the kissing. I don’t care, tell the whole world. I meant about the call. With my father.” She glanced to the side, fingers fidgeting with the clasp of her shiny watch. “I’d rather keep it quiet, that he has his doubts about me taking over the competition. That’s just. Well, it’s very personal.”

This had to be one of the strangest encounters of Danny’s life. Nothing ever seemed to go the way he expected when Eva Jansen was involved.

What kind of woman didn’t regard her own sexual exploits as “personal”?

Reeling a little, Danny nodded at her and escaped from the car. The sick feeling was gone, but it had been replaced by the much scarier sensation of falling through space—and the expectation of a hard landing.

Somewhere between the Gold Coast Arms and the Fresh Foods parking lot, Danny was afraid he’d lost any ability to keep his distance from Eva Jansen.

The grocery expedition was more like full-on battle than a shopping trip. The butcher counter was mobbed immediately by three separate teams, which made Danny extra glad they had decided not to go that route.

Beck didn’t even need to use his considerable bulk and intimidation factor to get up to the fish counter, so that saved them some time. Jules and Winslow hit the produce section, while Max and Danny ran for the baking aisle. They hadn’t had a chance to really inventory the hotel kitchen’s stores, but Danny was assuming they had basics like bread flour and yeast. He needed buttermilk and dark brown sugar, among other things.

Periodically, when the fierce current of the action, fighting the crowds and racing around the store looking for the best product took him past the checkout lanes, Danny caught a glimpse of Eva.

She had one arm up, her gaze on her watch, as she counted down the minutes of their timed shopping trip. Hair immaculate, lipstick as red and unsmudged as ever; no one looking at her would guess that not forty minutes before this, she’d been in the throes of a gorgeous, moaning, head-thrashing climax in the back of a limo.

But Danny knew. The image was imprinted on his brain as if it had been carved there like an etching in granite, right alongside the vision of Eva, momentarily downcast and unsure, her lashes dark moons against the fairness of her cheeks.

Danny had seen the real Eva Jansen, the one behind the elegant predator. And the bitch of it was, even if he could, Danny wouldn’t go back and unsee it.

She fascinated him, in a way that nothing had fascinated him since he first discovered the magic alchemy that turned flour, butter, and sugar into cookies.

He wanted her. And an innocent, oh-so-reasonable voice kept repeating in his head:
Is it really so bad to want something for yourself?