Read Online Learning Curves 1 - French Cooking 101 by Olivia Rigal - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Olivia Rigal
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hurt me.”
With each thrust of his hips, she took in more of him, and it was pure heaven. She shuddered and called out his name while she wrapped her legs around him in a final spasm. He roared, again, before collapsing onto her. So much for being the silent type, he thought, amused by the change she wrought in him without making any demands. He rolled to his side, taking her with him. She rested her head on his shoulder.
When her breathing returned to normal, she said, “What about ‘fantabulous’?”
“That sounds about right. Making love to you does make me feel fantabulous.”
❦
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ariane
ARIANE OPENED THE CURTAINS OF her workshop very early on Sunday morning. She opened the door to let in some fresh air. The workshop smelled like an over-chlorinated indoor pool thanks to Inès. She had come late on Saturday night when Ariane was already fast asleep.
Ines was a chemistry student with a germ phobia so bad that Ariane believed Inès was the only pretty twenty-four-year-old in Paris who had never been kissed. Kissing meant swapping germs. Ariane guessed there was no denying that fact. Ariane felt sorry for Inès, but it wasn’t her place to force her to seek therapy. Especially since it made her a fabulous cleaning lady.
Inès’s only drawback was that she probably held the world record for the most consumption of chlorine and white vinegar. Anything that could not be disinfected with chlorine was soaked in white vinegar. Fortunately, Ines understood that she couldn’t, under any circumstance, mix chlorine and vinegar… unless she wanted to commit suicide by burning her lungs.
On one side of the spotless counters, Ariane set out the leftover meats from Saturday’s pot au feu. On the other side, she set out all the vegetables they would work with. She had several varieties of potatoes and carrots she wanted to show them. She wasn’t sure they had the same species in the U.S. Nevertheless, she hoped her students would change their way of eating as soon as they knew there was such diversity. Curiosity was a good tool to use to get people to look for different types of the same vegetables.
Feeling someone behind her, Ariane turned around. Peter stood by the door looking at her. What was he doing here so early? A quick glance at the clock reassured her. She was on her schedule. Good. It was only eight thirty.
Fishing in her apron pocket for her elastic band, she pulled her hair back to tie it into a ponytail and said, “Good morning, Peter. You’re an hour early today.” Locks escaped her hands as she fumbled with her hair. It had a life of its own that morning. Probably because she hadn’t even attempted to tame it with a brush before walking down from her bedroom.
In two steps, he stood right in front of her. The elastic band was pulled from her hand and put back in her pocket. “I got here early because I wanted to be alone with you for a while.”
Bringing her hair back to frame her face, he caressed her jaw with the back of his hand. Ariane tried to back away. He was way too close for comfort. She smelled coffee and peppermint on his breath. With a firm hand on her arm, he held her, and her train of thought derailed. She looked under the debris—not a single coherent survivor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember why she had pushed him away Friday night. Instead of thoughts, she felt an aching need. A need as primal as hunger or thirst. A need that ran so deep it couldn’t be ignored. A need that pushed her to lean into him.
“I’ve been thinking—” he said.
She interrupted him by brushing his lips with hers. Oh, it felt so right she had to do it again. Just one more time. That was just what she needed. Tiny bites of heaven. More addictive than peanuts. Once she started, there was no stopping her.
He gently caught her lower lip between his teeth and took over, not giving her a chance to pull away. She wouldn’t have tried anyway.
With each thrust of his hips, she took in more of him, and it was pure heaven. She shuddered and called out his name while she wrapped her legs around him in a final spasm. He roared, again, before collapsing onto her. So much for being the silent type, he thought, amused by the change she wrought in him without making any demands. He rolled to his side, taking her with him. She rested her head on his shoulder.
When her breathing returned to normal, she said, “What about ‘fantabulous’?”
“That sounds about right. Making love to you does make me feel fantabulous.”
❦
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ariane
ARIANE OPENED THE CURTAINS OF her workshop very early on Sunday morning. She opened the door to let in some fresh air. The workshop smelled like an over-chlorinated indoor pool thanks to Inès. She had come late on Saturday night when Ariane was already fast asleep.
Ines was a chemistry student with a germ phobia so bad that Ariane believed Inès was the only pretty twenty-four-year-old in Paris who had never been kissed. Kissing meant swapping germs. Ariane guessed there was no denying that fact. Ariane felt sorry for Inès, but it wasn’t her place to force her to seek therapy. Especially since it made her a fabulous cleaning lady.
Inès’s only drawback was that she probably held the world record for the most consumption of chlorine and white vinegar. Anything that could not be disinfected with chlorine was soaked in white vinegar. Fortunately, Ines understood that she couldn’t, under any circumstance, mix chlorine and vinegar… unless she wanted to commit suicide by burning her lungs.
On one side of the spotless counters, Ariane set out the leftover meats from Saturday’s pot au feu. On the other side, she set out all the vegetables they would work with. She had several varieties of potatoes and carrots she wanted to show them. She wasn’t sure they had the same species in the U.S. Nevertheless, she hoped her students would change their way of eating as soon as they knew there was such diversity. Curiosity was a good tool to use to get people to look for different types of the same vegetables.
Feeling someone behind her, Ariane turned around. Peter stood by the door looking at her. What was he doing here so early? A quick glance at the clock reassured her. She was on her schedule. Good. It was only eight thirty.
Fishing in her apron pocket for her elastic band, she pulled her hair back to tie it into a ponytail and said, “Good morning, Peter. You’re an hour early today.” Locks escaped her hands as she fumbled with her hair. It had a life of its own that morning. Probably because she hadn’t even attempted to tame it with a brush before walking down from her bedroom.
In two steps, he stood right in front of her. The elastic band was pulled from her hand and put back in her pocket. “I got here early because I wanted to be alone with you for a while.”
Bringing her hair back to frame her face, he caressed her jaw with the back of his hand. Ariane tried to back away. He was way too close for comfort. She smelled coffee and peppermint on his breath. With a firm hand on her arm, he held her, and her train of thought derailed. She looked under the debris—not a single coherent survivor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember why she had pushed him away Friday night. Instead of thoughts, she felt an aching need. A need as primal as hunger or thirst. A need that ran so deep it couldn’t be ignored. A need that pushed her to lean into him.
“I’ve been thinking—” he said.
She interrupted him by brushing his lips with hers. Oh, it felt so right she had to do it again. Just one more time. That was just what she needed. Tiny bites of heaven. More addictive than peanuts. Once she started, there was no stopping her.
He gently caught her lower lip between his teeth and took over, not giving her a chance to pull away. She wouldn’t have tried anyway.
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