A Catered Romance

by Cara Marsi

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you can do better than that,” snapped the auctioneer. “It’s for a good cause and I hear this little redhead’s cooking is as delectable as she is.”

  Mary Beth wanted to sink lower in her chair, but she sat straighter and clasped her hands tighter.

  “Six hundred dollars.” The attorney again.

  “That’s more like it,” said the auctioneer. “Come on. You ladies too. Ms. Kendrick will cook up a romantic dinner for you and the man in your life. Maybe he’ll even pop the question.”

  Laughter, then several women shouted bids.

  “Fifteen hundred dollars.” Tom’s voice rang out above the rest. A collective gasp rode the audience.

  Please, God. No, Mary Beth pleaded. She met Tom’s gaze. The heat in his eyes sent a sizzling warmth coursing through her.

  “Seventeen hundred.” The attorney.

  “Now we’re cooking,” bellowed the auctioneer.

  “Thirty-five hundred.” Tom.

  Ripples of excitement swept the crowd. Mary Beth’s cheeks burned. She must look like a Christmas decoration. Bright red skin against the green of her dress.

  She slid a glance toward Taylor. With a frantic look on her face, the other woman leaned over to whisper to Tom. Mary Beth hadn’t thought it possible the blonde could get any paler, but her white features made fresh snow look like an artist’s palette.

  “Any more bids?” yelled the auctioneer. “Going once—”

  “Four thousand.” The attorney.

  “Six thousand.” Tom.

  A hush settled over the audience. Tension throbbed like a palpable force. Mary Beth’s mind shut down.

  “Six thousand dollars. Going once. Going twice. Sold to the gentleman in the second row.”

  The auctioneer’s excited voice and the crowd’s enthusiastic applause penetrated the fog in Mary Beth’s brain. Like an accident victim in shock, she turned her head slowly in Tom’s direction.

  Taylor jumped up, and with a toss of her head, stormed out. Tom stared at Mary Beth, a challenge in his darkened gaze.

  Mary Beth pressed a hand to her stomach. Did anyone really believe Tom paid six thousand dollars just for dinner?

  <><><>

  Men! Mary Beth pulled the asparagus steamer out of her bag and plunked it on the black granite counter in Tom’s kitchen. It voiced its protest with a loud clang. Knife in hand, she began trimming the thick ends off the vegetables she’d set out earlier.

  Damn Tom! Embarrassing her in front of all those people at the auction two weeks ago. She chopped faster. And when she’d arrived at his house today his housekeeper mentioned he had a special lady coming for dinner. What a way to spend Saturday night, cooking for Tom and a date. Would it be Taylor? Or someone new?

  Pain, sharp as the instrument she held, sliced into her at the picture of Tom with another woman. She lopped the end off the last stalk with enough force to scratch the plastic cutting board.

  Mary Beth lay the knife down before she cut herself next, and shoved away from the counter. Jamming her hands in her apron pockets, she turned to face Tom’s spacious kitchen, done in shades of black, gray and white.

  What other women had he brought into his kitchen, into his house? Into his bed? “No.” She shook her head. Thoughts like that weakened her. She had to stay angry. Anger kept the heartache at bay.

  Straightening, she headed toward the refrigerator. She had a six thousand dollar meal to prepare.

  What had Tom been thinking? Six thousand dollars for dinner? Had he meant to embarrass her or had his competitive nature kicked in? The Tom she used to know needed to win, at all costs. Maybe he hadn’t changed after all.

  Focus on the food, she told herself as she yanked open the stainless steel door of the refrigerator. Her gaze swept over the shelves she’d stocked earlier. Paper-thin slices of smoked salmon and the finest Russian caviar cooled in crystal bowls covered with plastic wrap.

  The cinnamon scent of Gail’s apple crisp made her mouth water. She’d bake the rich concoction in delicate pastry shells. Homemade cinnamon ice cream waited in the freezer, a delicious accompaniment to the baked dessert.

  She grabbed the bag of mixed greens and tossed it on the counter next to the raspberry vinaigrette ingredients. Wiping her hands on a towel, she glanced at the bay window. Dusk was settling outside. Tom would be home soon. He’d had to go into the office today to resolve a problem, his housekeeper had said. Would he have his date with him?

  Mary Beth pushed the refrigerator door shut and leaned against it, closing her eyes. The pain of missing Tom all these weeks and knowing he would be with another woman tonight seared through her.

  Fingering the gold chain around her neck like a calming talisman, she stared across the room to where stainless steel pots hung from a rack. She had steel in her too and she would get through this night.

  With renewed determination, she strode across the tiled floor to the oven and pulled open the door. The succulent odor of orange duck greeted her. Almost done. The brioche would go in soon and then—

  “Hello, Mary Beth.” Tom’s deep voice rang out behind her.

  She jumped back. The oven door slammed shut. She turned to face him.

  “I hope that’s not a soufflé in there,” he said.

  “It’s not.” She hated that her voice sounded thin.

  “Whatever it is, it smells delicious.” Tom stood just inside the doorway, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, his black T-shirt stretching over the broadness of his chest. She dug her nails into her palms, fighting her weakness for him.

  “Must you always sneak up on me?” she said, dredging up her anger.

  He raked fingers through his thick hair. “I see your attitude hasn’t improved over the past weeks.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She put her hand on her hip and glared at him.

  They stared at each other. The rigid set of his shoulders mirrored the tension brewing in her.

  “Forget it,” he said.

  “Where’s your date?” she asked, forcing coolness into her voice.

  “Date?” He frowned.

  “I thought...” She raised her chin. “You bid on dinner for two.”

  His eyes searched hers. “So I did. Don’t concern yourself with my date.”

  Anger and hurt mixed in her stomach. “I am not concerned with your date. Dinner’s almost ready. If you know anything about cooking, timing is everything.”

  He stepped close, dangerously close. She inhaled the woodsy, masculine scent of the outdoors that clung to him. Her breathing quickened.

  “Was the timing off between us?” he said in a low voice. “Is that the problem?”

  She resisted the impulse to back away from him and the temptation he offered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just want to finish this meal and leave.”

  He touched her chin with his fingers and tilted her face until their eyes met. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  His heated touch filled her with longing. She pulled free.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said. “Or maybe you don’t trust yourself.”

  The truth of his words hit her like ice water sprinkled on her face. She pressed her back against the counter and crossed her arms. “You made a spectacle of me at the auction,” she said, anxious to change the subject. “Bidding an outrageous sum for dinner. No one in the audience believed you paid six thousand dollars just for my cooking.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “The money goes to a good cause. I attended that auction for only one reason. And I got what I wanted.”

  “What was that?”

  “What do you think?” he growled.

  She met his fiery gaze and swallowed. “To publicly humiliate me?”

  His head snapped back, as if struck. “Humiliate you? What do you take me for?”

  She flinched at the bitterness in his voice and slid her gaze from his.

  He reached out and wrapped his hand aro
und her braid where it rested on her shoulder and gently pulled her to face him. “I wanted to have dinner with you.” His voice was harsh. “I needed to talk to you. But every time I saw you it was strictly business.”

  “Dinner? You paid six thousand dollars to have dinner with me?”

  “Yes, crazy as it sounds.”

  She locked her gaze with his, looking to confirm the honesty of his words, startled by what she saw there. Yearning sliced through her.

  “You could have told me,” she said. “I don’t appreciate being used.” She couldn’t stop the huskiness that had seeped into her voice. The light in his blue eyes showed he heard it too.

  “Used? I would never use you.” Despite his words, his tone had softened. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her closer. “I could say you used me, Cat Eyes.”

  At her quick intake of breath, he put his finger over her lips. “But you wouldn’t do that to me. I know you better than that. What happened, Mary Beth?”

  “Nothing,” she said, averting her eyes.

  He touched her chin, making her look at him. She knew she should pull away but she wanted his nearness. She wanted him.

  “Something is going on,” he said. “I thought we were friends. More than friends.”

  “We’re in business together.” She shook her head. “Nothing more. It can’t be anything more.” No matter how rebellious her heart, she wouldn’t succumb.

  “Why can’t there be anything more between us?” he said quietly. His warm breath whispered across her face.

  The huskiness in his voice and the tenderness in his eyes made heat rush through her.

  “I’ve missed you, Cat Eyes. I couldn’t stay away.” He lowered his head to take her lips in a kiss that told her the truth of his words. She put her hands on his chest and stood stiffly in his arms, trying to hold onto her last crumbs of pride. But her own desires and his gentleness had her bones softening like melted butter. She swayed against him.

  The timer shrilled. The high-pitched tone jarred her and she jumped away. They stared at each other. His ragged breathing matched hers. With a trembling hand, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  The timer continued to pierce the charged atmosphere. “Dammit,” Tom muttered.

  He left her to stride across the room. She hugged herself, missing the security of his arms.

  He turned off the timer and the oven with quick flicks of his wrist. Reality filled her with uncertainties. The echoes of Taylor’s bitter prediction twisted like a knife inside her. She scooted to the far end of the counter.

  “This is not about missing me,” she said, clutching at her last shred of dignity. “This is simply because you hate to lose anything, or anyone.”

  He turned and faced her. His harsh expression and the firm set of his jaw hinted at tightly controlled emotions. She chewed her lip, unable to look away.

  “There’s nothing simple about anything between us, Mary Beth. And I grew out of my need to win a long time ago.”

  “Really? You don’t call a bidding war at the auction competitive?”

  “The prize was worth the fight,” he said with the flash of a smile.

  She swallowed. “I’m just a commodity, then?”

  Lines of fatigue and frustration bracketed his mouth. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, sure he could hear the wild beating of her heart across the expanse of kitchen.

  He walked slowly toward her, a predator stalking his prey. She backed into the counter.

  “What will it take for you to believe me?” he said in a tortured voice.

  “Believe what?” she whispered.

  He slid his palms down her arms to take her hands in his. “Believe that I want to be with you,” he said in a husky voice. “That I miss you when you’re not around.”

  Her fears began to slowly evaporate under his searching gaze.

  “I-I want to believe you, Tom,” she said, lowering her head. “But I’m afraid.” Her admission shook her

  “Afraid of what? Look at me, Mary Beth.”

  She looked deeply into his eyes and knew she couldn’t stop loving him any more than she could stop breathing. She shivered.

  “You haven’t answered me.” He squeezed her hands. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Please don’t ask me that. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  He released her. “You are the most frustrating and stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” He took a deep breath. “But I won’t pressure you. I’m willing to wait until you’re ready to tell me what’s in that beautiful head of yours. I want to see you and spend time with you. And not just during business hours.”

  Alarm bells in her head threatened to deafen her. He hadn’t said he loved her or made any promises. How long before she ceased to be a challenge? And could she survive losing him a second time?

  Staring into his eyes, she pushed aside the anxiety that gripped her. She was tired of fighting her feelings. She loved him so much and she wanted to be with him, even if only for a little while.

  “I-I want to be with you too,” she whispered.

  Relief washed over his features. He gathered her to him.

  “My Cat Eyes,” he whispered.

  She barely noticed his fingers working her braid until she felt her hair tumble over her shoulders and down her back. He twisted his hand in her hair, gently pulling her head back, and dipped his head to kiss a sensuous line along her throat.

  “I want you so much,” he whispered against her throat. “I’ve always wanted you.”

  “I want you too.” She could no longer deny her hunger for him, a hunger that grew stronger every time she saw him.

  His mouth covered hers in an urgent kiss that shattered what little control she had. She returned his kiss, opening her mouth, giving him entry into her body and her heart.

  He pulled her closer, cupping her buttocks while his tongue ravaged her mouth. His hard arousal pressed against her stomach. Low moans she barely recognized as her own escaped into the quiet room.

  In her heart, she’d always hoped this day would come, had craved him, wanted him—body and soul. Nothing else mattered but him and the fulfillment she knew only he could give.

  He pulled away and took her face between his hands. “I want you. Now.” In one fluid motion, he ripped off her apron, then grabbed her hand and drew her out of the kitchen.

  “What about the food?” she asked.

  “Forget the food. I’m hungry for you.”

  <><><>

  Together they went through the dining and living rooms to the marble foyer. Still holding her hand, and without a word, Tom led Mary Beth up the stairs to a long hall. The bright paintings that hung on the soft white walls passed by in a blur of colors.

  Part of her brain urged her to run, told her she was crazy to take a chance on Tom again. But she couldn’t, didn’t want to. She’d wanted him for longer than she could remember. Her body needed him. Her soul craved him.

  A dim light beckoned from the open doorway at the end of the hall. He pulled her into the room. A small Tiffany lamp shed a golden glow over the pale beige walls and rich green spread that covered the king-sized bed.

  Then everything was forgotten as Tom gathered her in his arms and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re sure about this?”

  She touched his face. “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything in my life. I want you.”

  Joy radiated on his features. “I feel I’ve waited a lifetime to hear you say those words.”

  He took her lips in a kiss filled with tenderness and longing. Moaning, she pulled him closer, telling him with her body how much she wanted him.

  He let out a soft groan and slid his fingers into her hair, massaging the back of her head while his tongue sought hers. She willingly gave herself to him. He tasted of coffee and mint and the essence that was his alone.

  Tom left her mouth to trail tiny kisses down her neck and nibble at the sen
sitized skin. A slow heat burned through her and she ran her hands over his well-muscled back, glorying in his powerful body.

  Then he kissed her mouth again, his kiss fiercer and more demanding. A desperate kiss that met an answering need deep inside her. She felt boneless, restless, her breasts straining against her blouse, begging for release. She held onto him, tunneling her hands through the thickness of his hair. Liquid fire raced through her veins, consuming her. She let out a moan of protest when he pulled away.

  “Mary Beth,” he said in a ragged voice. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, easing her gently onto the silk coverlet.

  He looked down at her, an expression of wonder on his face. His eyes darkened, and she sensed he struggled for control. He leaned toward her and began unbuttoning her blouse, his fingers sure and steady, his gaze intense. The raw desire in his eyes heated her to her core. When he’d loosened her blouse, she sat up and discarded it, throwing it to the floor.

  He reached behind her to unhook her bra, freeing her breasts to his burning gaze. With hands that shook slightly now, he slid off her shoes, then her slacks, tossing aside each item until she lay before him clad only in her white silk thong.

  His breathing shallow, he reached out and lifted strands of her hair, letting them slide through his fingers, his touch gentle, almost reverent. His hot blue gaze trailed over her body, scorching her as if he’d touched her. “You’re more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

  Her body on fire, she held out her arms.

  “Soon, sweetheart. Soon.” With a wicked smile, he slipped her thong from her, leaving her completely naked to his worshipful gaze.

  He undressed quickly, then stood before her in all his naked glory, a god come to life. His well-defined chest muscles glowed golden in the dim light. A sprinkling of black hair covered his chest and arrowed to his private parts. She gasped at his strength and size.

  Unable to speak, she feasted on him, caught up in his beauty.

  He sank onto the bed and knelt before her. His scent of aroused male surrounded her, ramping up her need for him. He reached out and grazed his fingers over her breasts. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this.” His voice caressed and his fingers burned like white-hot fire on her fevered skin.