Read Online Some Like It Hot by Louisa Edwards - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Louisa Edwards
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sound guaranteed to bring a New York taxi screeching to a halt in front of her made the Limestone chefs freeze in their tracks long enough to realize their boss was in their midst.
The only one who didn’t seem to notice or care about her presence in the kitchen was the big guy in the middle of the fight. Eva was close enough to the center of the action now to see the mindless rage, layered over with something sharper, like pain or fear, clouding Muscle Man’s dark eyes. With his chin-length hair lashing around his face and his warrior’s stance, he looked absolutely wild, like a bull skewered with a Spaniard’s sword.
Eva didn’t allow herself even an instant of hesitation.
Just as he drew back his meaty fist for another right hook, Eva stepped directly in front of him and tilted her head back to look him in the eye.
“Enough,” she said as firmly as she could, doing her level best to radiate calm and confidence in spite of the fact that her palms were slick and clammy with nervous sweat.
Vibrating with anger, every visible muscle clenched, the big chef blinked down at Eva, fist still pulled back and ready to strike.
“Come on, Beck,” Lunden said into the silent tension. “Whatever it is, let it go for now. We can figure this out, but only if you calm down and let us help you.”
Shuddering like a wounded bear, Muscle Man, aka Beck, lowered his fist. His massive shoulders drooped, and Eva let out an unobtrusive sigh of relief, adrenaline still flooding her veins. She felt as if she’d averted disaster, and, glancing around the kitchen, it seemed the feuding chefs had managed not to destroy any of the ovens, blast chillers, or salamander broilers.
Thank God they hadn’t knocked over the liquid nitrogen tank in the corner. That would’ve been a bitch and a half to explain to the insurance people.
“This meathead attacked me,” slurred a voice from around Eva’s knees. She looked down to where Ryan Larousse, Chicago’s brightest young culinary prodigy—and hottest-tempered chef—sat pressing an open palm to the swelling line of his lower lip. One of the Limestone chefs reached a hand down, and Ryan scrambled to his feet. “I want him thrown out of this kitchen, and I’m definitely pressing charges. That psycho should be in jail!”
Before Eva could do anything to calm the troubled waters, Daniel Lunden jumped right on in and started splashing around.
“Hold on just a minute there, Gloria Allred. No one’s going to jail.” He pushed through the crowd to stand at his teammate’s side. Eva wished he didn’t look so damn sexy while stirring up trouble and making her life harder, but it was hard to deny that the sight of him, all alpha male and inflexible, beautifully lean arms crossed over his chest, got her thinking decidedly and deliciously inappropriate things about handcuffs.
“I know my boy, and Beck isn’t some hotheaded kid out looking for action.” Lunden sneered that bit, giving Ryan Larousse a once-over that made the younger chef flush as red as the blood trickling from his split lip. “If he jumped your skinny ass, you damn well did something to provoke him.”
Having dealt with Ryan Larousse before, Eva had no doubt that this was true. Still, in the interests of fairness. “Ryan? Is this true?”
The quick slide of his gaze told her everything she needed to know before he replied with a surly, “No way. We were just talking. I mean, what the hell.”
Beck remained as silent and immovable as a monolith, except for the rapid rise and fall of his rib cage as his breath returned to normal. Tilting her head to one side to get a different angle on him, Eva said, “Beck. Anything to add?”
The crackling flames had died away from Beck’s expression, so Eva wasn’t surprised when his only response was to stand there stolidly, meeting her gaze without blinking.
Lunden didn’t like it much, though. “Come on, Beck. Tell her what happened, so we can sort this
The only one who didn’t seem to notice or care about her presence in the kitchen was the big guy in the middle of the fight. Eva was close enough to the center of the action now to see the mindless rage, layered over with something sharper, like pain or fear, clouding Muscle Man’s dark eyes. With his chin-length hair lashing around his face and his warrior’s stance, he looked absolutely wild, like a bull skewered with a Spaniard’s sword.
Eva didn’t allow herself even an instant of hesitation.
Just as he drew back his meaty fist for another right hook, Eva stepped directly in front of him and tilted her head back to look him in the eye.
“Enough,” she said as firmly as she could, doing her level best to radiate calm and confidence in spite of the fact that her palms were slick and clammy with nervous sweat.
Vibrating with anger, every visible muscle clenched, the big chef blinked down at Eva, fist still pulled back and ready to strike.
“Come on, Beck,” Lunden said into the silent tension. “Whatever it is, let it go for now. We can figure this out, but only if you calm down and let us help you.”
Shuddering like a wounded bear, Muscle Man, aka Beck, lowered his fist. His massive shoulders drooped, and Eva let out an unobtrusive sigh of relief, adrenaline still flooding her veins. She felt as if she’d averted disaster, and, glancing around the kitchen, it seemed the feuding chefs had managed not to destroy any of the ovens, blast chillers, or salamander broilers.
Thank God they hadn’t knocked over the liquid nitrogen tank in the corner. That would’ve been a bitch and a half to explain to the insurance people.
“This meathead attacked me,” slurred a voice from around Eva’s knees. She looked down to where Ryan Larousse, Chicago’s brightest young culinary prodigy—and hottest-tempered chef—sat pressing an open palm to the swelling line of his lower lip. One of the Limestone chefs reached a hand down, and Ryan scrambled to his feet. “I want him thrown out of this kitchen, and I’m definitely pressing charges. That psycho should be in jail!”
Before Eva could do anything to calm the troubled waters, Daniel Lunden jumped right on in and started splashing around.
“Hold on just a minute there, Gloria Allred. No one’s going to jail.” He pushed through the crowd to stand at his teammate’s side. Eva wished he didn’t look so damn sexy while stirring up trouble and making her life harder, but it was hard to deny that the sight of him, all alpha male and inflexible, beautifully lean arms crossed over his chest, got her thinking decidedly and deliciously inappropriate things about handcuffs.
“I know my boy, and Beck isn’t some hotheaded kid out looking for action.” Lunden sneered that bit, giving Ryan Larousse a once-over that made the younger chef flush as red as the blood trickling from his split lip. “If he jumped your skinny ass, you damn well did something to provoke him.”
Having dealt with Ryan Larousse before, Eva had no doubt that this was true. Still, in the interests of fairness. “Ryan? Is this true?”
The quick slide of his gaze told her everything she needed to know before he replied with a surly, “No way. We were just talking. I mean, what the hell.”
Beck remained as silent and immovable as a monolith, except for the rapid rise and fall of his rib cage as his breath returned to normal. Tilting her head to one side to get a different angle on him, Eva said, “Beck. Anything to add?”
The crackling flames had died away from Beck’s expression, so Eva wasn’t surprised when his only response was to stand there stolidly, meeting her gaze without blinking.
Lunden didn’t like it much, though. “Come on, Beck. Tell her what happened, so we can sort this
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