Celine thought Zion had a spacious kitchen and she moved about as if she’d done so several times. Her father would be shocked to discover she knew her way around anyone’s kitchen, since she’d never shown any interest at home. What he didn’t know was that she worked with various notable chefs who volunteered their time and services to Second Chances.
The burner phone, which was still sitting on the counter, rang. Celine had learned her lesson about being quick to answer it. When she’d done so a half hour or so ago, assuming it was her father, it had been someone for Zion. A woman name Bettina. Needless to say, it was quite obvious she hadn’t appreciated another female answering Zion’s phone. Since Bettina had called on the burner and not his regular cell phone, Celine didn’t have to wonder just what type of relationship the two of them shared. That was why it hadn’t bothered her one iota when the woman took time to try to convince Celine of how important Bettina was in Zion’s life.
And speaking of Zion...
He had left a few hours ago for his workspace and hadn’t returned. She’d given him an approximate time when dinner would be ready, and it was past that time and he still hadn’t shown up.
His phone stopped ringing and she checked it to verify that it had been Bettina and not her father. When she saw it had been the woman, she placed the phone back on the counter.
Her thoughts shifted to her dad. She hadn’t talked to him again since that morning. Knowing he had notified the FBI had given her some assurance he was taking things seriously. When she’d spoken with Desha earlier, she hadn’t told her best friend about the kidnapping. She merely told her that she’d decided to extend her stay in Rome another week.
Celine was glad she’d checked in at Second Chances, as well. Stuart had assured her things were running smoothly as usual. When she’d told him that she’d decided to extend her trip to Europe for another week, he had encouraged her to enjoy herself. If only he knew how impossible that would be to do.
“Something smells good.”
Celine turned from the stove to glance over at Zion. Desire rushed through her insides the instant she saw him. She would think the sexual chemistry between them would have lessened by now, but it hadn’t. If anything, it was stronger than ever. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells.”
“I’m sure it will. What is it?”
“A chicken potpie. I found all the ingredients I needed here. Your caretaker did an awesome job of stocking the place.”
“He usually does,” Zion said, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “What can I do to help?”
Celine should be happy he offered his assistance, but sharing space with him wouldn’t work. Regardless of how massive his kitchen was, he seemed to draw her to him. “No help needed. I got this. Besides, you got a call on your burner phone you might want to return. I made the mistake of answering it, thinking my dad was calling. Instead it was your friend Bettina. I don’t think she appreciated hearing my voice.”
She watched Zion intently to see if what she’d said had any effect on him. Instead, as he grabbed a towel off the counter to dry his hands, his expression remained unchanged. To be certain he’d heard her, she added, “She called twice, in fact. I didn’t answer the second time. I let it go as a missed call.”
“That’s fine,” he finally said.
If he thought that was the end of it, then he was sorely mistaken. Why she suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy now and hadn’t before when she’d talked to Bettina earlier, she wasn’t sure. It might be because now that she was looking at Zion, she was thinking of him and this Bettina together sharing a bed, of Bettina touching him in places that Celine only dreamed of touching, of him sinking into Bettina’s body instead of hers, and sharing a piece of himself with Bettina that he hadn’t shared with Celine.
Or she could accept the jealousy she felt was the result of seeing him and being reminded of what a good-looking, fine-ass man he was. A man with a perfect body and great set of bones. Bones she had no problem jumping. Regardless of the reason for her envious state, she needed to hear him say again that he wasn’t seriously interested in any woman. Even if that included her. She needed to hear him repeat Zion’s Rules, proclaiming he was a bachelor for life.
She took the potpie out of the oven and placed it on the stove top to cool. Out the corner of her eye she saw Zion cross the kitchen to the refrigerator and open it. For some reason she couldn’t let the call from the other woman go, and said, “Bettina had a lot to say.”
“Did she?”
She glanced over at him and wished she hadn’t. He was leaning against the counter with a water bottle to his lips. When did the act of a man drinking water become sexy as hell? “Yes.”
After taking a huge gulp, he lowered the bottle, met her gaze and asked, “What about?”
Celine swallowed deeply, trying to focus on his eyes and not on his wet lips. Why was she tempted to cross the room and lick them dry? “She pretty much warned me to keep my hands off you.”
He held her gaze for the longest time. She licked her lips, and when he mimicked her action, she felt a tightening in her stomach. If that wasn’t bad enough, the intense desire she saw in his eyes had her heart racing and made the juncture of her thighs throb relentlessly.
He took another swig of water before placing the empty bottle on the counter. Not breaking eye contact with her, he asked, “Do you intend to heed her warning, Celine?”
She swallowed again and then decided that with this conversation honesty was the best policy. “I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t. And just for the record, you can put your hands on me whenever, however and wherever you like.”
* * *
Zion meant it.
A sensual tightness settled in his chest as he stared at Celine. He liked the way her hair flowed in a silky wave around her shoulders, framing a long, graceful neck. And why did he have a thing when it came to her lips? Maybe it was the way they were shaped, as if they’d been made just for kissing.
He couldn’t help but notice she was checking him out like he was doing with her. He hoped that, like him, she was finally done with fighting this thing between them. Ready to throw in the towel and replace it with silken sheets. Earlier, he had deliberately gone to his work cottage. Once there he’d discovered that he couldn’t concentrate one bit. His head had been filled with thoughts of her. He couldn’t get out of his mind all the things he wanted to do to her, but was fighting hard not to. And it hadn’t helped matters that it had been her jewelry he’d been working on.
He had given up trying to stay focused, and had returned to the main house. Intense heat had consumed him the moment he’d walked into his kitchen and seen her. Why did she look so good in here? So much at home? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was in bare feet and wearing one of his aprons.
She took a step toward him, then stopped. He knew she was trying to decide what to do, certain she remembered his rules. That meant whatever they started would be finished when she left here. There would be no follow-up calls, no texting and no attempts at a long-distance romance. In other words, once she returned to LA, there would be no staying in touch.
Sensing her indecisiveness, he asked, “Need help?”
She held his gaze. “With what?”
“With any decisions you’re trying to make.”
She angled her head. “And you think you can help me make them?”
“I can certainly try.”
He watched her lick her lips again before she asked, “How?”
Zion was hoping she would ask. He moved toward her, keeping his gaze focused on her eyes. When he came to a stop in front of her he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body closer to his. He was certain she’d seen his erection the entire time, but now she felt it pressed hard against her. He wanted her to feel it because he wanted her to know just what she was doing to him.
“This is how.” He lowered his head to hers, and the moment his mouth touched her lips, fire blazed through his loins.
He loved her taste and latched on to her mouth to savor it. From the way their tongues were tangling, it was as if their earlier kiss had only whetted their appetite for each other. They weren’t kissing; their mouths were mating. That was the only way he could describe the slow, deliberate, intense and bold assault of her mouth by his.
This kiss was quickly becoming scandalous. He was tempted to stake a claim to her entire body, here and now. But he wanted to let his tongue play with hers, suck on it, torment it and devour it a little while longer. Her moan was sensual music to his ears, and when she began pressing the lower part of her body against his hard erection, he knew what would eventually happen if she kept it up.
Hell, he wanted it to happen. He was too far gone to stop and hoped she was, too. From the way she was kissing him back he knew that she was almost there. He reluctantly broke off the kiss and proceeded to lick around her mouth, which made her moan even more. He loved the sound. It was sexy and made him simmer inside.
Zion pulled back and gazed down at her. This was the woman he wanted. Not Bettina, Katrina, Deborah or the last woman he’d had sex with, someone name Danelle. None of them mattered. Only her. And a bolt of fire lanced through him at the thought of having her. Sinking into her moist depths, raking his fingers across the nipples of her breasts and absorbing all her heat.
“You know what I want?” he asked her in a low voice.
She reached up and traced his lips with her fingertips. “I have an idea.”
He had a feeling her idea would be right on the mark. “Assuming your idea is correct, what do you say to that?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I say bring it on, Zion Blackstone, if you are so bold.”
He was so bold. Suddenly, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. Leaving the kitchen, he headed toward the stairs.