11
“Hello?”
Declan looked up from the bar with a jolt. One minute, he’d been trying to focus on planning the week’s menu, fantasizing about Paige and her incredible lingerie, and the next, she was standing right there in front of him in the empty restaurant. Pretty blue sundress, her hair in a neat braid, looking a million miles from the seductive siren who’d left him panting by the pool.
Until she gave him a smile, and he saw the flirty sparkle in her eyes.
There she was again.
“I was just heading home,” she said, looking curiously around. “And I saw the light on.”
“Welcome to my kingdom,” he joked, trying to collect himself. He knew people loved every corner of the charming old building, with its wooden beams and old oak floors, but he found himself wanting her approval, too. He followed her gaze, taking in the upturned chairs and clutter after service. “It’s usually done up right,” he explained. “Linens, flowers . . .”
“No, I like it. I get to see behind the scenes,” she said, turning back to him.
Good.
“So what are you up to?” Paige asked, walking over.
He dragged his eyes away from the swing of her hips. “The menus for the week,” he answered, showing her the scribbled notes, full of cross-outs and annotations.
“How do you come up with the dishes?” She leaned closer, and he caught the scent of her perfume, a drift of subtle sweetness.
His mind went blank.
“Declan?” she asked, turning, so her blue eyes were staring straight at him.
He cleared his throat. Nope, still no coherent thought in his brain. “How do you come up with you designs?” he asked instead.
Paige looked surprised, then pleased. “I just . . . imagine them. Sometimes I’ll see a shape, or texture, and it’ll inspire me,” she said, hopping up onto a bar stool beside him. “There’s a fountain in the park I love, the figures have this curve to them, in the stonework, and I started wondering how that curve would work with folds of silk, tucked together . . .” Her face took on a dreamy expression. “I managed to get them concertinaed along the edge of the bra, so it echoed the shape underneath. And then sometimes, it’s a mood. Flirty, or seductive . . .”
“Is that when the red lace comes out?” Declan joked, needing to break the mood. The way Paige looked when she got that faraway gaze in her eyes . . .
Kissable didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Is that what turns you on?” Paige arched an eyebrow, and Declan nearly choked.
“No. Well, I guess . . . I like all kinds of things. It depends on the woman wearing it,” he winked, but she just gave a mysterious smile.
“Seduction isn’t just about putting it all out there,” she said. “Garters and crotchless panties and nipple tassels.”
Declan began to feel lightheaded. Paige, who blushed when he held her gaze too long, was talking about nipple tassels like they were a pair of old socks.
“Seduction is . . . the imagination,” she continued, fixing him with a flirty look. “The hint of lace, a suggestion of flesh . . . It’s about arousing the mind, not just the body.”
Declan felt like both were pretty much on red alert right now.
“So, your turn,” she said. “Where do you get your inspiration?”
Declan drew a ragged breath. “All over,” he said, willing himself to keep from ravishing her right there on the polished bar. “Sometimes I’ll wake up thinking about an ingredient or craving a certain flavor. Like this morning, I wanted something really salty, full of umami, so I was making miso broth.”
“Umami?” she echoed, looking confused.
“It’s the fifth flavor,” Declan explained. “There’s salt, sweet, sour, bitter, and umami. It’s like . . . the roundness, the savory note you get from mushroom, or soy. I learned about it when I was working over in Hong Kong. They use it a lot in Asian cuisine.”
“So, what will you make this week?” Paige looked again at his menu notes, scribbled and chaotic.
“Well . . .” Declan started, feeling strangely self-conscious now that there was a spotlight glaring on his process. “First, I thought of fresh mint. And then that got me thinking about lamb, and gamier meats. And then I build the menu around that. What are the vegetables that will round out the flavor profile?” he continued. “Which wines pair well, the dessert contrast. And if you hate lamb, then what can I do that’s a total opposite, so you can come back the next night and have a totally different experience.”
“It’s like a recipe itself,” Paige remarked, smiling. “Making sure everything balances and goes together.”
“Exactly,” Declan grinned. “And then sometimes I rip the whole plan up and just cook whatever the hell I want. My staff hate me when that happens.”
She laughed. “Something tells me, you’re no picnic even at the best of times.”
“Me?” Declan pretended to be wounded. “I’m a dream.”
“I’ll bet you are.” Paige gave him a slow, assessing look that sent Declan’s blood pressure soaring.
What was she playing at tonight? He had no complaints, not one, but still, he wondered where this daring flirt was coming from.
And could she please stay a while?
Paige suddenly slipped down from the stool. “Now I’m hungry,” she said. “How about you fix me something to eat?” And then she was gone, sashaying to the kitchen with a swing of her hips, leaving Declan reeling in her wake.
Damn. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she went and surprised him all over again.
And he loved surprises.
What was she doing?
Paige burst through the kitchen doors and gulped a deep breath. There was an industrial-sized sink in the corner, and she was half tempted to dunk her head under the cold faucet to cool off.
She didn’t know where this wanton flirt had suddenly come from, but she was leading Paige way over the line. It had started out with an innocent question about her design process, but she’d thought Declan was going to pass out right there on the floor when she started talking about her lingerie.
She paused. She had to admit a tiny part of her had enjoyed his reaction, the way his eyes darkened and his breath grew shallow.
OK, a big part.
“What are you in the mood for?”
Declan entered the kitchen behind her, and Paige whirled around. “What?” she asked, breathless herself now.
“To eat.” Declan strolled closer, looking far too tempting in his faded jeans and that black T-shirt, the soft cotton hugging his torso. “You’re in the right place. I can make you anything your heart desires.”
“Anything?” Paige bit her lip, racing through the possibilities. After all this talk of seduction, she should play it safe, and ask for something like a grilled cheese. There was nothing sensual about a good old grilled cheese sandwich.
Except, now that she thought about it, even Declan could make it sexy. The buttery bread, the oozing cheese . . .
What the hell. She may as well go for broke.
She’d come here for a reason, after all. Turning down the dark road in search of something. Another epic kiss.
Or more . . .
“Chocolate,” she said, deciding. There was no turning back now—and she didn’t want to, either. Just one look at that smoldering expression in his eyes, and Paige knew she wouldn’t be bolting early, or cutting short whatever happened next. No, she was stepping off the ledge now, to hell with the consequences.
She wanted it all.
“I have a craving for something sinful and decadent,” she added.
“Then you came to the right place,” Declan chuckled. “I can do sinful all day long.”
She’d bet he could.
Declan grabbed a couple of pans and then began fetching ingredients. Eggs, sugar, flour. He brought out a tall jar of shriveled-looking vanilla beans, and a couple of bars of dark, thick chocolate. “The key is the cocoa,” he said, starting up a double-boiler and cracking the bars. The scent wafted over to her, impossibly rich. “You need to get it just barely melted.”
Paige hopped up on the counter beside him to watch. As the chocolate began to slip into a pool, he added butter, and then set out a couple of ramekins. She followed his sure, quick movements, and felt like she was watching a conductor take charge of an orchestra. He knew where every utensil was, each ingredient. He’d joked about this being his kingdom, but it was the truth: this kitchen was his domain, and he commanded it as naturally as breathing.
Declan took the chocolate off the heat and slowly whisked in some heavy cream. “Here, taste,” he said, dipping a spoon and holding it to her lips.
Paige leaned in and licked it.
Hello.
The taste flooded her in waves. Rich chocolate, cool cream, with a note of something spicy, too. She paused, trying to place it.
“Mexican chili powder,” Declan said, before she could ask. “I like to add a little heat.”
He could say that again. She took another taste, and this time, Declan reached up and gently stroked a drop from the edge of Paige’s lips. He brought his thumb to his own mouth and sucked.
“Mmm,” he murmured, holding her gaze, and God, Paige felt that hum everywhere. Her body felt alive and charged with a reckless kind of desire, and it seemed like the most simple thing in the world to lean a little closer and drop a feather-light kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“Delicious,” she echoed in a whisper.
Declan groaned, and then his hands were on her—for real this time. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, slow and deep, the taste of the chocolate mingling with his own intoxicating flavor, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth, making her gasp with the sensual caress.
Declan nudged her knees open and moved between her legs, pressing closer as she balanced there on the edge of the countertop, wrapping her arms around his neck now. His body was flush against her, solid and warm, and Paige arched eagerly against him as she kissed him again, all out this time.
No hesitation, no second thoughts. Nothing but the feel of him, pulling her deeper into the inferno, headlong into the thrilling rush.
God, this man could kiss.
Declan’s hands were everywhere, slipping over her shoulders and gripping tightly at her waist. He broke away, kissing hotly down her neck, and Paige shuddered from the delicious sensation of his mouth, rough against her, stubble scraping lightly on her bare skin. He nuzzled against the hollow of her collarbone, and then caught one strap of her dress between his teeth, pushing it aside.
Paige gasped as the other strap followed and her dress crumpled to her waist. She was wearing a simple white lace bra, and the feel of Declan’s breath coming hot against her skin sent goosebumps shivering over her chest.
He paused, drawing back to look at her. “Is this washable?” he asked, teasing one fingertip over the lacy trim.
“Huh?” Paige blinked. The expression of pure lust on his handsome face sent her thoughts scattering. He was talking about laundry right now?
“I’m just asking, how . . . messy I can get this.” Declan kissed her neck again, his thumbs tracing gentle circles just beneath her ribcage. Paige squirmed and shivered, her body going wild.
“It hand washes. All my designs do,” she managed to reply.
He shot her a wicked smile. “Good.”
Before she could even register what was happening, Declan scooped a thumbful of the melted chocolate mixture and smeared it over the lace on her breast.
Then he bent his head and began to lick it off.
Oh. My. God.
Paige moaned out loud at the feel of his mouth, caressing her through the thin fabric. He lapped at her, teasing her nipple into a stiff peak before he turned his attention to her other breast, smearing the chocolate and lavishing her with attention until she was a panting, writhing mess.
Her head was spinning, and her body was on fire. What was he doing to her—and could he please never stop?
Declan returned to her mouth, easing her lips open with a blazing kiss as his capable hands unhooked her bra and peeled it off her. Paige was too giddy to care that she was naked to her waist now, propped up on the counter with her thighs clenched around his torso and her breath coming fast. And when he took another helping of chocolate, and slowly pushed up the skirt of her dress . . . ?
Paige stopped thinking altogether.
He spread her knees wider, trickling a trail of warm, thick chocolate up the inside of her thigh. “I think this is my new favorite recipe,” Declan said, his voice coming out ragged. He bent to kiss her knee, and let his tongue rove higher, following the path of the chocolate. Paige sank back onto the countertop, letting her fingers tangle in his hair as he swirled and sucked all the way to the lace edge of her panties—and then further still.
“Declan!” she gasped as his tongue swept over her. She bucked against his mouth, and she heard him chuckle against her.
“Easy there,” he murmured, hooking his thumbs under the edge of her underwear, and tugging them down her legs. “I’m just getting started.”
He tossed her panties aside and took another scoop of melted chocolate.
“We’ll have none left for dessert,” she said, breathless, lifting her head.
Declan smirked. “Do you mind?”
Paige slowly shook her head. “Not at all,” she whispered, watching in a daze as he trickled it over her naked skin, right there between her thighs. She must be having an out of body experience. She’d never done anything like this, not once in her whole life.
But her body felt it, every touch. And as Declan began to lick her again, his tongue probing, his fingers easing higher, thicker, Paige surrendered to the pleasure. She lay back, moaning louder, not even caring about the noise, or if she was making an unladylike fool of herself. She clutched the back of his hand, urging him on, his tongue lapping in an intoxicating rhythm that left her boneless. Mindless. Strung out on the edge of sensation, trembling on the precipice.
And then he arched his fingers higher inside her, curling just right, and she broke apart, falling headlong into the rush with a cry as she flooded with dazzling sensation.
Oh.
My.
God.
Paige gripped the countertop. It felt like she could up and float away. But there was Declan, his hands still stroking her, soothing now, gently smoothing her dress back down, and kissing his way back up her breathless body.
“That was . . .” Paige blinked, still liquid. “Wow.”
She lifted her head in time to see a slow smile of satisfaction spread across Declan’s face. “You really are an artist in the kitchen,” she added, laughing out loud with the absurdity of it all.
Yes, she was spread on the kitchen counter with chocolate smeared Lord knows where.
And yes, she was loving every minute of it.
“If you think that’s good, just wait until you see what I can do in the bedroom,” Declan said, with his usual cocky smile.
Paige didn’t disagree. He’d earned that smile. And if this was just the appetizer . . .
She could only imagine what the entrée would feel like.
And she would imagine it. Over and over again.
Paige’s heart rate finally slowed, and gravity pulled her back down to earth again. She sat up. “I made a mess.” She blinked, looking around at the ingredients and utensils she’d scattered.
“I made an even bigger one.” Declan’s smirk grew wider.
Paige glanced down, and saw she was absolutely covered in chocolate, from her skin to her underwear and dress. She laughed. “I should just get in the shower like this to rinse off.”
“The tub at my place has room for two,” Declan suggested wolfishly—just as Paige let out an almighty yawn.
“Or not,” he finished.
She bit her lip. Now that the pleasure was slipping from her bloodstream, it had been replaced by a bone-deep tiredness. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but she guessed Declan had other activities in mind. “Maybe I’ll get a second wind?”
He gave her a smile that was surprisingly tender, reaching to help her down from the counter. “Raincheck, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “Something tells me you’re about a half hour away from turning into a pumpkin.”
“Make that ten minutes,” Paige agreed regretfully. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Declan gave her a teasing look. “I’m the one who got to have dessert.”
Paige blushed. “I’ll . . . umm . . .” She gestured vaguely, her self-consciousness finally catching up with her.
“See me soon?” Declan said, walking her back out through the restaurant. “Yes, you will. I’m tied up here the next couple of days, but later in the week, I’m all yours.”
Paige wasn’t going to begin to think about that—Declan, hers, preferably with far fewer clothes, and a more comfortable surface—so she just grabbed her keys from the bar. “I had a great time tonight!” she blurted. Oh, why wasn’t there an etiquette guide on how to act with a man after he’d done . . . that.
“I could tell,” Declan grinned. “You’re lucky I don’t have neighbors,” he added, “because I’m pretty sure they would have been able to tell, too.”
Her cheeks burned. Paige let out a strangled cough. “Well . . . then goodnight.” She bobbed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, but then Declan caught her around the waist and pulled her in close.
He kissed her hard, an all-out, no-holds-barred, hot-as-hell kiss that woke every part of her up again and left Paige breathless and dizzy in his arms.
Declan pulled back and set her down again. “Sweet dreams,” he said with a wink. “I better go get to cleaning up.”
And then he headed back through the double doors as if he hadn’t just stopped her world the second time over.
It wasn’t until Paige had driven home and was luxuriating under the hot suds of her shower that she realized: her panties were still somewhere on his kitchen floor.