Read Online Delectable Desire by Farrah Rochon - Free Book Online Page B

hasn’t happened yet.”
    Why not? he wanted to ask. His skin crawled at just the thought of still living with his mom or dad. Instead, Carter said in a teasing tone, “Well, when you have a live-in housekeeper to cook for you, why would you?”
    “Now that I know Lillian’s has been baking my family’s desserts, I’m starting to suspect that most of the meals must come from local restaurants.” She gestured to one of the sofas. “Have a seat.”
    The smooth, comfortable leather enveloped him as soon as he sat. Carter’s gaze roamed around the room, taking in the sheer opulence of this place. Everything was done in various shades of white, cream and taupe. From the furniture, to the drapery framing the fourteen-foot windows, to the marble-topped pedestal tables.
    His eyes fell on a painting illuminated by the warm glow of a recessed light high above. Carter hopped from the sofa and went over to the wall.
    “Your drink,” Lorraine said, coming up behind him and handing him a long cylindrical water bottle.
    Carter pointed to the painting. “This is a Duchamp.”
    She blinked several times, as if she was surprised he could spot a painting by the French artist. “Yes,” she said. “He’s one of my favorites.”
    “You have an original Marcel Duchamp hanging on the wall.” He shook his head. “I knew this place would be something else, Lorraine, but damn.”
    “Please, do not make a big deal of it, Carter. I know how this must seem over the top to some people, but to me, this is home. It has always been just my home.”
    “I get it,” he said.
    “I know you do. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
    His brows peaked. “Hmm... one of the things you like about me? That sounds promising. What are some of the others?”
    “I’m not telling you.” She laughed. “I think your ego is healthy enough without extra stroking from me.”
    “Oh, come on. Just one more. Please?” Carter asked with a pleading look that usually led to him getting his way.
    “Those puppy dog eyes won’t work on me,” Lorraine said.
    “Are you sure?” he asked, moving a bit closer to her.
    She looked up at him. Her big brown eyes sparkled with more than just laughter. There was something else there: heat.
    “Fine,” she said. She motioned for him to lean over. “I like the way you wear an apron,” she whispered in his ear.
    Desire shot down Carter’s spine at the feel of her warm breath on his skin and the seductive lilt to her voice. When he looked at her, a teasing smile spread across her face.
    “Are you ready?” Lorraine asked him.
    “For what exactly?” was Carter’s reply.
    That grin turned coy as she said, “Give me a few minutes more, and then we can leave.”
    Carter spent the next five minutes observing the other pieces of art in the room. It looked more like a museum than a home, but that was to be expected. He certainly wouldn’t find crocheted afghans draped across the sofas in a place like this.
    A moment later, he spotted Lorraine walking up the hallway where she’d disappeared earlier. Carter followed her out of the penthouse and into the garage where his car was parked.
    “Well, you certainly lived up to my expectations,” Lorraine said as he opened the passenger door for her. “I figured you to be the flashy-car type.”
    “Uh-oh. Do you think less of me now?”
    “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s just an observation,” she said, slipping into the car.
    Carter rounded the back and got behind the wheel. He started the engine, its gentle purr rumbling softly.
    “I’ve always been a car junkie,” Carter explained as he pulled onto North Lake Shore Drive. “I used to have pictures of classic Porsches tacked to my bedroom wall at my mom’s house. I crossed an item off my bucket list when I bought this car for my birthday.”
    “I like it,” she said in her prim and proper voice. “It fits you.”
    “How so?” The fact that he knew so little about her made Carter