McDonald_TWT_GENVers_Feb2014

by Donna McDonald

  “Pekala’s declining health has made it harder for me to travel. Edwina pushes me to do local events so she can at least broadcast those to national viewers. I decline most offers, but I could do this one for you.”

  Sabine shook her head. “No, and don’t even give it another thought. One of the reasons I went to work for Anthony is that he seldom plays tit-for-tat games with our clients. Besides—I like that you and I are outside all that. I don’t want you to think I like you because you’re good for my PR career.”

  Koka loaded the last of their dishes before he returned to his seat at her table. “I appreciate that you feel that way, but I liked Anthony too. I hope I wasn’t misjudging his character.”

  Sabine smiled at him. “You weren’t. Anthony’s a good person. I think it’s my direct supervisor who’s acting like a publicity fiend in this case. I think Blanche has been planting ideas in Anthony’s head about you and me because she suspects we’re closer than I’m saying. I’ve been playing down our relationship because I don’t trust her.”

  “I don’t expect you to keep us a secret. Are you ashamed to be associated with me?” Koka asked. His gaze took in her wide eyes over his direct question, but he wanted to know.

  “Are you kidding? Ashamed—no. Protective—yes,” Sabine said. “Negative press might hurt your career, Koka. At the very least, it would be embarrassing to Pekala and Halia.”

  Koka crossed his arms as he studied Sabine’s pensive frown. “What could be negative about my association with you? It’s not like I’m planning to brag to the world about how talented you are in bed.”

  Sabine laughed at his sideways compliment and rolled her eyes as she stood. “Okay. Negative is probably the wrong word, but getting laughed at publicly can feel negative. I’ve seen my clients go through it often enough to know.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Koka said. “We’re consenting adults. It’s not like you’re married or dating anyone other than me. Are you?”

  Rolling her eyes again at his worried tone, she gave him the don’t-be-stupid look she normally only used on Joe. “No. I wasn’t dating at all before we got together. I guess technically I was trying to date, if you count trolling coffee shops and wishing.”

  “Humor is not going to save you from this discussion, Sabine. I want to know what puts that furrow between your eyes when you talk about us being together,” Koka demanded.

  Disbelief that he cared as much as he did was the real cause, but Sabine didn’t feel that was confessable. Unable to formulate any worthy answer, she turned away from the beautiful man at her table with his dark hair, darker eyes, and white shirt partially unbuttoned. It was hard not to go to him and indulge the urge to undress him completely, especially now that she knew he would let her.

  Distracting herself to improve the odds of resisting temptation, Sabine added detergent to the dishwasher. She closed and locked its door before she turned back to Koka again. She mentally drew on her forty-plus years of life so she could offer the most positive explanation she could.

  “I’m fine with who I am—most of the time—but I’m just not the kind of woman your fans expect The Sexy Chef to be dating. They might find my presence in your life to be alarming.”

  “I didn’t know my cooking fans had any say about who I go out with,” Koka said, crossing his arms.

  “Wait—hear my whole opinion before you get your shorts twisted up about this. You know how our society works. But as an image consultant, it’s my job to call it as I see it. An incredibly fit man who looks like you being associated with a not-so-fit woman who looks like me might not be so great for your current image as a sexy bachelor.”

  Koka narrowed his eyes. “Why? Because you’re a real woman with a real body, instead of sporting fake everything and looking plastic?”

  Sabine nodded as she leaned against her cabinets. “Yes. My body is a little more female reality than most women want to accept, while you and your muscled form are every woman’s fantasy. Think of any celebrity and then tell me what happens when they pack on a few pounds. Now compound that with the celebrity being a chef. There are automatic assumptions that go along with that. You and your perfectly toned body are miles outside those assumptions and they have helped make your career what it is. Your fans’ expectations about you are important. I’m not willing to risk your popularity.”

  “So if I were overweight, you’re saying you think no one would pass judgment on your appearance as the woman in my life?” Koka asked.

  Sabine bit her lip at the anger in his voice. “I’m not saying that exactly. And it’s hard to know for sure. But it would be less likely if you looked like just some average man, instead of a muscled god. Depression and divorce made the body I have at the moment. It would take a couple years for me to get myself back in any kind of shape that would look worthy of standing next to The Sexy Chef in public.”

  Koka shook his head. “So this is why we always go to your house or you come to mine. You’re afraid to be seen in public with me.”

  “Afraid is not exactly the right word,” Sabine said.

  “What is the right word then, Sabine?” Koka demanded, crossing his arms and glaring.

  “Worried,” Sabine whispered. “I don’t want anything to change what I’ve found with you. These last two weeks have been like a wonderful dream and I’m not ready to wake up yet. The moment I’m seen with one of Seattle’s most famous bachelors, it will change things for both of us. Everyone will start speculating. In our case, that speculation might not be so great for your popularity.”

  “But you don’t know that will happen for sure,” Koka said.

  Sabine walked to where he sat. Reaching out, she ran her fingertips inside the collar of his shirt and down to where the first button gave under her fingers. “I may not know for sure, but I’m a pretty good guesser about things like this. It’s my job.”

  Koka raised his hand to take hers. “I find you beautiful just as you are. Nothing anyone says can change that. But your opinion of yourself must be high enough to believe you deserve my devotion. If it isn’t, I am just wasting my time trying to lure my sunshine out from behind her clouds.”

  Sabine groaned as she bent to kiss him. “Quick. Tell me the worst of your flaws before I fall at your feet and beg to be your sex slave forever.”

  Koka reached out a hand and grabbed the front of her shirt. He yanked down hard and held Sabine at eye level. “I’m insatiable where you’re concerned.”

  Sabine closed her eyes at his words and let herself fall to her knees while he still gripped her. Spreading his knees wider, Koka leaned forward and fastened his lips hotly to hers. She ran exploring hands down to his ankles over his slacks, back up his calves, and over his knees to grip his thighs.

  When Koka finally released her mouth, she leaned forward and buried her face in his lap, kissing the hard length of him through fabric as she made plans in her head about what to do to him. “Come to bed with me,” she ordered.

  His hands under her arms lifted her to her feet when he stood. Before she could take a breath, his mouth was on hers again, greedy and demanding. His desire was such a perfect match to what she felt in return that the rightness of them together brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t imagine feeling that perfect feeling for anyone but him.

  “I cannot wait to be with you, but afterward I want you to come home with me,” Koka said. “I need to be near Pekala, but I can’t bear the thought of sleeping without you when my heart is this full of concern about us.”

  “Okay,” Sabine said quietly, not bothering to fight as she led him down the hallway to her bedroom. She’d talk him out of the idea afterward and send him on his way, like she did every time.

  Her plans of seducing Koka evaporated after he removed her stroking hand and flipped her around to face away from him. After undressing her, Koka bent her over the bed and cupped her breasts as he entered her from behind. Her groan earned her a hard squeeze from both hands.

  Lost in f
eeling owned, she missed Koka’s whispered question in her ear.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I said that this is my other flaw,” he whispered.

  “It’s not a flaw if I like it,” Sabine said, rasping the words.

  “No,” Koka said, laughing roughly. “The flaw is that I like to be in control. Always.”

  Sabine moaned over the pleasure of Koka’s hands squeezing her large breasts as he plunged in and out, his large body forcing hers to adapt to his rhythm.

  “What kind of control?” she asked when she could.

  Koka plunged deeply, stepped forward to shift his weight, and toppled her down until her face was pressed into the mattress. He pretended to ignore her pleased laugh at his domination.

  “The kind of control where you do exactly as I say,” he whispered. “Starting with telling me if this really feels as good as you’re making it seem like it does.”

  Sabine quivered at his muscled body holding hers spread and captive to whatever he wanted to do to her. “Yes—it feels amazing. I just hope you can make me scream in this position.”

  Bending over the back of her, Koka’s masculine moan of approval rumbled through them both as he rocked her and the bed with his hard thrusts. He hoped his motions weren’t using more force than was pleasurable for her. Sabine wasn’t talking as much as usual, but her moans and straining body reassured him as they always did.

  “Sabine, this unquenchable desire between us is because I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered.

  Her rippling orgasm prevented her from saying anything more than his name in reply as he groaned and ground himself into her trying to prove his words were true.

  Chapter 12

  Looking around the messy bedroom with clothes, shoes, and other items littering every surface, Sabine groaned softly in dismay. Koka’s bedroom was a complete disaster area. Then she looked back at the king-sized bed with her naked king-sized lover still face down across it.

  Oh, who was she kidding? If ever there was a man totally worth picking up after, it was the one that spent the night making love to her.

  Rolling her eyes at her willingness to forgo both her common sense and her feminist leanings for great sex, Sabine rummaged through the strewn clothing until she found sweatpants that tied at the waist and a -shirt that would hang to her knees. Throwing them on, she crept from the room and thanked God it was Saturday.

  She followed her nose to the kitchen and the smell of strong, black tea. What she found was Pekala wheeled up to the small table, sitting alone. Pushing aside the morning-after embarrassment that heated her face, she put on a smile as she padded barefoot into the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” she said, pretending to belong.

  Pekala turned and smiled. “I see the sunshine has finally found its way to the kitchen again. Thank goodness. Koka is not a pleasant man without you around.”

  Sabine laughed. “Sunshine again? Well, I don’t know about that this morning. I’m too used to waking up in my own house.”

  “Have some tea, Sabine. My night nurse Renee made it before she left,” Pekala said.

  Sabine opened a cabinet above the teapot and found a cup. Liberally filling the bottom with honey, she finally poured the dark black liquid over it. She carried it to the table and took a seat.

  “Smells as strong as coffee.”

  “I had to give up my Kona coffee earlier this year. That was a very sad day, but I have learned to drink black tea,” Pekala said.

  Sabine looked into Pekala’s cup and saw it was empty. “You want a refill?”

  “Please,” Pekala said, nodding. “The day nurse called and will be late. I couldn’t reach the counter on my own.”

  Frowning at Pekala’s limitations, Sabine went back to the counter and brought everything she could hold in her hands to the table. “There. If we drink the pot, I’ll make some more.”

  Sabine poured a refill of tea for Pekala, grinning as Koka’s grandmother ladled more honey into hers than even she had used. Afterward, the woman studied her over the teacup as she sipped it.

  “Normally Koka is awake by now. I’m glad he had a reason to sleep in this morning,” Pekala said.

  Sabine laughed and smiled over her own cup. “Is that your gentle way of telling me you don’t mind me being here?”

  Pekala smiled. “Only a foolish woman would chase sunshine from her kitchen.”

  “Thank you,” Sabine said softly, sighing over how important the older woman’s acceptance was to her. “If you’re hungry, I could make you some breakfast. It might not be what you’re used to from Chef Lake, but I can do scrambled eggs and toast with some proficiency.”

  “I have a sweet tooth in the mornings. How about French toast?” Pekala asked.

  Sabine thought her grin might just split her face. “French toast is my specialty. I have a family recipe unlike anything you’ve ever tried before. And I bet Koka will have all the ingredients.”

  She bounded up and headed to the kitchen. It took opening almost every cabinet before she found everything she needed. Her swearing when she went to get a skillet was too much an honest reaction to prevent in time. Embarrassed at cutting loose in front of Koka’s grandmother, she looked up sheepishly when Pekala laughed.

  “Sorry. I’ve just never seen thirty different kinds of skillets in one cabinet before. How mad is he going to be if I use the wrong one?” Sabine asked the laughing woman.

  “Live dangerously,” Pekala ordered. “I’m starved.”

  Turning back with a grin, Sabine released a slow breath and shook her head. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  She pulled out a skillet from near the top of the first stack. “I wonder what he thought about my pitiful, well-used cookware. It’s obvious he’s not used to roughing it.”

  But Pekala didn’t respond to her concerns, she just sat at the table smiling.

  Finding her cooking zone at last, Sabine mixed the egg batter and coated several large slices of multi-grain bread with it before laying them into the melted butter, dancing in the skillet. Humming, she flipped the browned slices and watched carefully as the other side cooked to perfection. Plating everything onto two plates, she carried them to the table.

  Pekala’s eyes, lighting with delight, made her smile as she slid the plate onto the table. She went back to the kitchen and returned shortly with several bottles of syrup. “I have big-refrigerator envy now too. Knowing Koka has corrupted me.”

  Pekala smiled as she worked her way through one slice of French toast. “Delicious,” she pronounced.

  Sabine laughed and nodded, her own mouth full. At the sound of a masculine throat clearing, she swung a guilty gaze over her shoulder. Koka was standing in the kitchen doorway wearing an identical pair of sweatpants to hers and a shirt that left nothing to a woman’s imagination.

  When Pekala laughed, Sabine knew the older woman had heard the sigh of longing slip out.

  “His grandfather looked like that too. I’m old and dying, and still remember the man. The sixty years I knew him was not enough,” Pekala said.

  Pulling her attention back, Sabine reached out and poured more tea into Pekala’s cup. “Did you always have that little dancing butterflies reaction?” she whispered.

  “Until the day he died,” Pekala whispered back. “Even when I was mad at him.”

  Sighing without attempting to hide it this time, Sabine stood. “I’m going to make some more tea and fix him some breakfast.”

  Pekala nodded. “Take yours to the bar or it will get cold, Sunshine.”

  Sabine barely fought off the urge to lean over and kiss the older woman for just being wonderful. Turning toward the source of her fluttering stomach, she carried the teapot in one hand and her plate in the other.

  Koka put out a hand to stop her and peered into the plate. Leaning down, he sniffed. “What is that supposed to be?”

  Sabine looked at him in shock. “French toast. What did you think it was?”

  “Is that rea
lly food?” he asked. He leaned in to kiss her mouth, smirking when she backed away without letting him.

  “Pekala seems to thinks so. What’s your problem with French toast? If you’re going to go all snobby chef on me, at least tell me why you hate breakfast food.”

  Snorting at Sabine’s irritated tone, he climbed on a bar stool. “I don’t hate all breakfast food. Okay. Perhaps I am being a snob. Convince me that your soggy bread is worth eating. I’d like a couple slices of ham in case I can’t choke it down.”

  Sabine snorted as she walked into his kitchen. “You want a side of nice to go with it too? I think I found another flaw. You are way too blunt in the mornings.”

  Koka burst out laughing. “I am so much in love with you already that it hurts me, Sabine Blakeman. When are you going to admit you love me back?”

  Sabine set down the teapot and the plate, shaking her head. “And you just had to say that right after you insulted my family recipe, didn’t you?”

  Koka shrugged. “I’m being nicer than you know. I didn’t say anything at all about the skillet you’re using. That’s not the best one for your purpose.”

  “Sorry,” Sabine said dryly. “I didn’t go to skillet school. Do you have a skillet fetish or something?”

  “Or something,” Koka agreed, grinning at her laugh. “Want help making your soggy bread crisp up better?”

  “No thank you. Don’t move from that stool,” she ordered. “And it’s not soggy bread.”

  Busying herself with getting ham from the refrigerator, she practiced deep breathing to get her racing heart to slow down. She had glossed over last night’s declarations of love during sex. Ignoring it was harder to do this morning. Her hands shook as she unwrapped the meat tray and selected several large slices.

  “Two or three?” she asked.

  “Two.” As he waited, Koka studied Sabine’s backside encased in his clothes. Sabine was sexy, in an uncomplicated, liking-herself kind of way. She was like that in bed too. The marketing actually matched the package in her case, which thrilled him enough to be planning how to keep her. Pekala’s presence was the only reason he wasn’t trying to wrestle the sweatpants off her and show her several good reasons beyond what they had already done.