Read Online Bachelor's Special by Christine Warner - Free Book Online Page A

eyes. His pressed jacket accented his broad shoulders, the muscles beneath working as he tugged at his sleeves. The dinner at Chet’s home was black tie, at the request of the head of radiology’s wife. Formal dresses for the two women attending and tuxedos for the men.
    Jill wiped her hands down the full-body apron tied loosely over her vintage black and white houndstooth halter dress. Talk about self-conscious, she felt like an underdressed teen at her first formal. Of course the apron didn’t help. At least she wasn’t required to sit down and eat with Chet’s guests. She’d have to start downing peppermint tea and sucking on candies now if she wanted to keep her nervous stomach under control.
    The last time she’d been this close to a man dressed in a tux had been her second forced exit in a matter of months. Her elbow had been gripped by the fierce chef de cuisine on her way out the back door of La Elegance. The man in the tux had been the ma î tre d’ sneaking a smoke in the back alley.
    “You look…great.” Not that he needed confirmation, but she couldn’t resist saying the words aloud.
    “Thanks.”
    Their eyes met. Warmth permeated her skin as he inspected her. She turned away to lower the flame underneath the soup while the flame in her belly grew in intensity.
    “How are you settling in?” His gravelly voice lent an air of intimacy to the room, sending her pulse into overdrive.
    “Great. I feel a bit guilty. Like I’m on a mini vacation.” Breathless, she wished their conversation would end, or the guests would arrive, or something would burn to divert her attention.
    “How’s that?”
    “Well…um…cooking doesn’t fill my whole day. Not that I’m complaining.” She chuckled. The heat that crept over her face had nothing to do with the stove’s temperature. “I’m already forming a pool habit after lunch, followed by a visit to the sauna.”
    “Good. At least someone gets use of them.”
    “I’m not sure why, but I’m a bit nervous.” Unable to face the stove indefinitely, fidgeting with buttons and knobs, she turned toward him. Mistake. He stood leaning against the counter, arms folded, and his bone-melting smile in place. The white of his cuffs showed off his long, dark fingers. Shivers skidded across her flesh as she recalled how those fingers had cradled her head when they’d kissed.
    “No reason to be. As usual, it smells wonderful in here. The dishes I’ve tasted have been out of this world. You’re very talented.”
    “Thank you. I’ve just never cooked for such a select group before. It’s almost like it’s more important than cooking for hundreds of diners.” With nervous fingers, she erased invisible wrinkles on her apron. “Of course, I better get used to it if I’m going to run my own catering business.”
    “That intimate flare.” He waggled his eyebrows.
    She chuckled, tension falling off her back in layers.
    “No fears, this is a very lax group,” he said.
    “You wouldn’t guess it by the way you’re dressed.”
    “Ah, get a society woman involved and everyone’s dressed to the nines. As a matter of fact, I was going to ask if you wanted to join us for dinner. It’d give you a chance to mingle. You’d be better engrained in their memories if they could match your face with your skills. You know, for future jobs.”
    She untied the loose belt of her apron, only to refasten it with a tight tug around her hips. “Thanks, but no.” She wasn’t prepared to make small talk with a group of highly educated men and women. “I’m not dressed for it; besides I’m just a cook.”
    “You look wonderful.”
    For an instant his compliment whisked a ribbon of heat through her veins, but she quickly came to her senses. What a liar. Her outfit in no way compared to how she expected his guests would look.
    “And you’re not just a cook, you’re a chef.” He kissed the tips of his fingers in an exuberant fashion, pulling them from his lips in a large