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Authors: Sophia Knightly
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vegetables. He tasted a snow pea and looked satisfied. "Perfect." Returning the shrimp to the frying pan, he added dry sherry and a delectable aroma rose from the pan. "Here have a taste." Clay speared a juicy shrimp and blew on it before he fed it to her. "Careful, it's hot."
She moaned in appreciation. "Mmm, delicious." Like you . "Can't wait to eat."
Marisol set the table and together they polished off Clay's meal. Satiated and delighted by his cooking skills, she patted her lips with a napkin. "That was the best shrimp I've ever eaten. Where did you learn to cook like that?"
"From a Japanese girl I dated a long time ago. I used to love watching her prepare terrific meals for me."
He sounded like he was used to having women cater to him. Why had he mentioned the Japanese girl? Was he still pining for her?
"Want some mint chocolate-chip ice cream for dessert?"
"Sure and a cup of coffee, if you don't mind too much."
"Why would I mind?" she asked, perplexed.
"The last time we ate together you did."
"Oh that. I didn't appreciate your comment about only being attracted to tall brunettes with long hair," she said, making a face.
His face softened. "I only said it so you would think I wasn't attracted to you and then you'd feel safe."
"Is that really why?" Marisol asked, not taking her eyes from his.
He leaned forward and lazily stroked the tiny cleft in her chin with his thumb. "I think you're adorable."
Clay's molten eyes darkened with passion and her body flooded with desire. "You do?" she asked breathlessly.
"Absolutely," he murmured. He pulled her on his lap and stroked the sensitive skin at her nape as he deposited kisses on her neck, leaving tiny goose bumps in their trail. He held her face and kissed her deeply and Marisol snuggled against him, acutely aware of her round bottom and soft thighs resting on his steely thighs.
"Do you still want dessert?" she whispered, trying to catch her breath between kisses.
"Dessert can wait."
"Why did you end the kiss in the hall?" she blurted out, getting up and moving from his reach.
Clay followed her into the kitchen. "You shatter my self-control. I had to get up or we would have ended up having sex right there on the floor."
Marisol's face heated at the image he described and she was sure her cheeks were flushed tomato red. She lowered her eyes from the heat in his searing gaze.
Clay's lean fingers gently cupped her jaw and tipped her face up. "We're treading on dangerous ground."
"Because the stalker threatened your life, too?"
Clay let out a caustic snort of laughter and pulled her in his arms. "No, of course not. You're the only one I'm concerned about." He rested his chin on the top of her head and said, "I won't let anyone harm you, Marisol. I'll protect you with my life if necessary."
"Thank you," she said, deeply touched by the enormity of his words. The phone rang causing her to pull away from the warmth of his strong arms.
"Let me get it," Clay said, answering the phone. Seconds later, he handed it to Marisol. "He says he's your brother."
Frustrated by the interruption, she held the receiver to her ear. "Hey, Marcos. Why are you calling?"
"Who answered the phone?" Marcos asked, nosy as usual.
"My new bodyguard," she said, waiting for his explosive reaction.
"Bodyguard! What happened?"
"I reported the weirdo to the police and there's a detective already working on the case. You can stop worrying about me and get on with your life."
"Has anything else happened? If you're keeping something from me, I'll never trust you again."
"Don't be an idiot! When I contacted the police, I found out that other women in this building were having the same problem. A detective was already assigned to it undercover." It didn't matter that she'd changed the details, Marcos would never know.
"Really? What's his name?"
"It's nobody you know," she replied quickly.
"Okay," Marcos said with resignation. "I'm glad you're well-protected. Take care of yourself and think
She moaned in appreciation. "Mmm, delicious." Like you . "Can't wait to eat."
Marisol set the table and together they polished off Clay's meal. Satiated and delighted by his cooking skills, she patted her lips with a napkin. "That was the best shrimp I've ever eaten. Where did you learn to cook like that?"
"From a Japanese girl I dated a long time ago. I used to love watching her prepare terrific meals for me."
He sounded like he was used to having women cater to him. Why had he mentioned the Japanese girl? Was he still pining for her?
"Want some mint chocolate-chip ice cream for dessert?"
"Sure and a cup of coffee, if you don't mind too much."
"Why would I mind?" she asked, perplexed.
"The last time we ate together you did."
"Oh that. I didn't appreciate your comment about only being attracted to tall brunettes with long hair," she said, making a face.
His face softened. "I only said it so you would think I wasn't attracted to you and then you'd feel safe."
"Is that really why?" Marisol asked, not taking her eyes from his.
He leaned forward and lazily stroked the tiny cleft in her chin with his thumb. "I think you're adorable."
Clay's molten eyes darkened with passion and her body flooded with desire. "You do?" she asked breathlessly.
"Absolutely," he murmured. He pulled her on his lap and stroked the sensitive skin at her nape as he deposited kisses on her neck, leaving tiny goose bumps in their trail. He held her face and kissed her deeply and Marisol snuggled against him, acutely aware of her round bottom and soft thighs resting on his steely thighs.
"Do you still want dessert?" she whispered, trying to catch her breath between kisses.
"Dessert can wait."
"Why did you end the kiss in the hall?" she blurted out, getting up and moving from his reach.
Clay followed her into the kitchen. "You shatter my self-control. I had to get up or we would have ended up having sex right there on the floor."
Marisol's face heated at the image he described and she was sure her cheeks were flushed tomato red. She lowered her eyes from the heat in his searing gaze.
Clay's lean fingers gently cupped her jaw and tipped her face up. "We're treading on dangerous ground."
"Because the stalker threatened your life, too?"
Clay let out a caustic snort of laughter and pulled her in his arms. "No, of course not. You're the only one I'm concerned about." He rested his chin on the top of her head and said, "I won't let anyone harm you, Marisol. I'll protect you with my life if necessary."
"Thank you," she said, deeply touched by the enormity of his words. The phone rang causing her to pull away from the warmth of his strong arms.
"Let me get it," Clay said, answering the phone. Seconds later, he handed it to Marisol. "He says he's your brother."
Frustrated by the interruption, she held the receiver to her ear. "Hey, Marcos. Why are you calling?"
"Who answered the phone?" Marcos asked, nosy as usual.
"My new bodyguard," she said, waiting for his explosive reaction.
"Bodyguard! What happened?"
"I reported the weirdo to the police and there's a detective already working on the case. You can stop worrying about me and get on with your life."
"Has anything else happened? If you're keeping something from me, I'll never trust you again."
"Don't be an idiot! When I contacted the police, I found out that other women in this building were having the same problem. A detective was already assigned to it undercover." It didn't matter that she'd changed the details, Marcos would never know.
"Really? What's his name?"
"It's nobody you know," she replied quickly.
"Okay," Marcos said with resignation. "I'm glad you're well-protected. Take care of yourself and think
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