Recipe for Love (Entangled Select Suspense)

by Dyann Love Barr

  She skirted around the idea by telling him she had feelings for him, but it went no further. Lying with his arm behind his head, he tried to figure out what made her tick. There had to be a way to get past her fears.

  “Hey there.” She rolled over to rest her head on his chest. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “Oh, just thinking.”

  “About what?” Her finger traced enticing circles around the edge of his nipple. He wanted to keep her like this forever, but he knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. It killed him, inch by inch, to have her so close, yet light years away.

  “Nothing really.” His hand came to rest over hers. “At least, nothing important.” He smiled past the lie. “We missed dinner. Why don’t I order room service and we can set up that whiteboard you were so eager to get to earlier?”

  The sheet pooled around her hips as she sat up. “You’re right. Let’s get to it.” Lights from the city skyline filtered through the light drapes to illuminate the curve of her breasts and the outline of her waist and hips. As much as he wanted to reach out for her again, he let her pick up her clothes from the floor. “I’m going to shower. Do you want to join me?”

  He had to bite back a groan of temptation. “You go first.” He rolled to one side and turned on the bedside lamp. She stood in front of him, naked, with the bundled clothes in front of her, hiding her body from view. “I’ll get the board set up while you’re in the shower.”

  She gave him a quick nod and scampered into the bathroom. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and walked to the empty board. The cool temperature of the room felt good against his heated skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so worked up over a woman, and this one wasn’t even the most beautiful he’d ever had. Her beauty came from within. It sparkled in her eyes and the toss of her head, even during a beating in a damn cooking contest. That one still left a burn. He let out a chuckle as the shower came on and he picked up the file of pictures from the coffee table. He sorted through them, spreading them across the unmade bed.

  She came back, drying her hair and dressed in a white robe with the hotel logo on the pocket. “That feels better. Your turn.”

  He stood, walked over to her, and made no excuses for his reaction to the clean scent of soap and woman. His teeth gently raked the edge of her jaw before he whispered in her ear. “Let’s forget about everything but us. Ethridge and Bolzano won’t be any less dead in the morning.”

  Tilly eyed the pictures scattered over the bed and scampered out of his hold. “Cap’n Kelly, I think that sword is goin’ to get in the way if we plan to get any work done.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  She wanted to jump his bones so bad it hurt, but she couldn’t afford to lose complete control. For years—no—decades, she had held the reins of her life, and now they were slipping away one gorgeous orgasm at a time.

  It was just sex.

  She ran her mantra over and over in her head. Why wasn’t it working? Why did she find the idea of not seeing him after this mess was over so painful? She held the lapels of her robe tight against her chest to ease the ache.

  “Is something wrong?” He took her face in his hands. Standing in front of her, buck naked, he had such concern in his eyes that she wanted to sit down and wail. She pasted on a smile.

  “No, I—ah—I’m just thinking about Sarah—about home. Stuff. ”

  He stroked her face with his thumb. Each gentle little drag and pull against her cheek turned her brain to mush and her body on fire. “You mean where are we headed with this?”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t goin’ anywhere. You know that as well as I do.”

  “You said that you had feelings for me.”

  “These murders have made it hard to think straight.” She pulled away and dropped the damp towel on the back of a chair. She ruffled the red curls with her fingers as she tried to gain a few seconds to put her thoughts together. “Don’t get me wrong, the sex is great, and—”

  “And what?” Instead of being angry, which would give her a good excuse to run and hide from those dark eyes, he smiled down at her. “You are one tough nut to crack.” He gave her a quick hard kiss and snatched up the towel. “Be ready to tackle that whiteboard when I come back.”

  Her fingertips smoothed over her swollen bottom lip. She watched his taut backside as he sauntered to the bathroom with her towel slung over his shoulder. The man was lethal—dead sexy. She should be angry that he got the better of her, but she couldn’t be. Not when he was right. She’d already told him how she felt. She couldn’t go back, but she didn’t know how to go forward either.

  Instead, she picked up her purse and headed for the door. The first thing she had to do was get a change of clothes. She’d left her dirty clothes neatly folded on the bathroom counter. If she went inside, she’d be tempted to join him in the shower. A little more water wouldn’t kill her. No, no, no. She resisted the pull and decided cowardice would win the day here. Better to go back to her room for fresh clothes. Besides, the idea of putting on dirty clothes after a shower gave Tilly the willies, even if she’d only worn them for a short while.

  She stopped long enough to scribble a note to Jordan. The last thing she wanted was for him to be upset if she wasn’t in the room when he got out of the shower.

  A hotel robe wasn’t the best thing to wear for a short trip down the hall to her room, but it couldn’t be helped. She opened the door and sighed with relief. No one was in the corridor. She slipped out of his room and padded in a half run to her suite. She pulled her key card from her wallet and swiped it. No green, just a big red light on the lock. Puzzled, she tried several times with the same results.

  “What the hell is goin’ on?” She shoved the key card into her pocket and reached for her phone in the side pocket of her purse. It wasn’t there. She facepalmed herself. “Idiot.” It was in the pocket of her chef pants. This was not good.

  She gathered up the long skirt of the robe to keep from tripping and made her way back to Jordan’s suite. It was locked and she didn’t have a key card. “Jordan, it’s Tilly.” She knocked several times, each louder than the next. No answer. The man must be half fish to take a shower that long.

  “Okay, okay, what do you do next?” She bit the tip of her nail and paced in front of the door. She could wait, but there was no telling how long it would be before he decided to come up for air. All she needed was someone who could replace the key card with one that worked. She considered her options.

  There was no way she’d traipse through the downstairs lobby like this.

  The courtesy phone!

  The elevator chimed and the door opened to a waiter from room service. He pushed a cart filled with covered dishes down the hall. The smell reminded her how long it had been since she’d eaten. Food would have to wait. He gave her a nod and went down the hall, leaving the smell of chicken in a white wine cream sauce, if her nose hadn’t lied to her. Tilly’s stomach growled long and hard as the elevator doors shut. “Later.” She patted her stomach and hitched up the skirt of the robe. Yes, she was in luck. There was a phone by the elevators. She grabbed the receiver and dialed.

  “Front desk.” The man’s well-modulated voice sent a rush of relief through her. “How may I help you?”

  “Hello. This is Tilly Danes in room 1012 and I have a bit of a problem.” She bit her lip for a second before charging on. “This may sound strange, and I’m sure I’m not the only person in the hotel to ever be locked out of their room, but my key card won’t work.”

  “Did you make sure you put it in the right way?”

  “Oh, believe me, I’ve tried every which way to Sunday. All I get is the little red dot instead of the green.” The elevator doors opened again, this time to a crowd of five or six men spilling out of the car. The reek of alcohol followed them into the hallway. She turned her back and raised her voice to be heard over the loud whistles and laughs. “I’m stuck next to the elevators in my robe. It’s a long story, bu
t I need to get into my room.”

  “Hey baby, why don’t you come to my room?” Unwilling to be ignored, one of the men moved a bit closer, until she had to take a couple of steps to one side of the phone. She turned her back to them again. A hard tug whirled her around so fast she dropped the receiver.

  “The party ish just startin’.” The beefy guy’s slurred speech and the strong fumes rolling off his stocky body said he should have stopped the festivities a few drinks back.

  Her robe slipped to expose her bare shoulder and the top of one breast.

  “Looks like you got a head start on us,” a blond man shouted and reached for her.

  She jerked away and thrust the terry cloth back in place. “Leave me alone,” she yelled and clutched her purse to her chest.

  “Junior here is getting married and we promised him a lap dance.” Beefy Guy motioned her forward.

  “Dude, she’s short.” One of the men let out a hyena-like giggle.

  “Still pretty good looking for a midget.” Blond Guy made another grab for her while the other men circled around. “I say we party. I’ll bet she has some mad skills. You got some mad skills?” He leaned down to grip her by the chin.

  She tried to yank her face away, but the man’s hand slid around the back of her neck. He pushed her against the wall and bent his head down for a kiss. His whiskey-soaked breath fanned her face.

  “Let me go, or so help me,” she ground out, “I’ll fry your balls like mountain oysters.”

  Hoots and hollers went up at her words. “We got us a live one.”

  “Ms. Danes, Ms. Danes.” She heard the man at the front desk calling for her through the hanging receiver. “Ms. Danes!”

  “I could use some help up here.” She shouted, hoping the man at the front desk could hear her over the men’s noise. Her back was flat against the grass-cloth-covered wall of the hall, which left her no way to get past the barricade of men surrounding her. Ruby would probably kick the guy in the nuts and be done with it. That would be a good plan if there were only the one man. Self-defense class hadn’t addressed multiple attackers.

  Ruby! Why didn’t she think of that before? Her mentor hated it when she had to travel to New York, Los Angeles, or any other place Ruby considered akin to Sodom and Gomorrah. She’d given her a pretty pink canister of pepper spray masquerading as lipstick. Never once had she thought she’d have to use it. She sent up a silent thank you as she slid her hand into her bag and her fingers curled around the pepper spray. Before the Beefy Guy could make another move, she flicked the cap up with her thumb and let him have it full blast in the face. She yelled at the top of her lungs and brought up her knee at the same time.

  Beefy Guy dropped to his knees with a satisfying scream. She let out another one of her own and sprayed the rest of the men with the fiery mist. They moved to get away from the spray that burned their eyes and noses. Gagging coughs accompanied their gasps for air. Her eyes watered from the back-spray as she made a break for it. She was halfway to Jordan’s room when his door opened. He came barreling out, wearing nothing more than a pair of dark green lounging pants.

  His eyes widened with shock as he took in the group of pepper-sprayed men on the corridor floor. He grabbed her into his arms and held her so tight she felt a couple of her ribs groan in protest.

  “Tilly! Oh my God.” He tipped up her chin to check out her watering eyes. “You’re okay? They didn’t hurt you?” Anger, dark and dangerous, replaced the concern. He held her out at arm’s length to put her aside, his focus now on the men. “Let me handle this.”

  She pulled at his arm as he took a step toward the elevators. “I already took care of it,” she gasped. “Call security, but get the blood out of your eyes first.” Her throat burned from breathing in a small amount of the mist. She could only imagine what the men were suffering.

  “They need to pay.” He growled from deep within his chest. “Your eyes are swollen. You’re crying.”

  “It’s a bit of pepper spray.”

  “All the more reason to kick their asses.”

  “Let it alone.” Frustration clawed at her. All she wanted to do was go to his room and wash out her eyes, not be subjected to a testosterone overload. “Call security. Please.”

  He searched her face and pulled her close again. “We’re not moving until they get here,” he whispered into her hair.

  She sagged with relief and, for the first time, allowed tears to come. “I was so scared, but Ruby saved the day.” She gave a little sniff. “I’m not goin’ to razz her about her Christmas gifts ever again.”

  He leaned down to touch her mouth in a tender kiss. “You tell her for me that I approve of her kick-ass gift.”

  A chime signaled the elevator had arrived at their floor. It opened to reveal several security officers, plus Tyler, getting out of the car. They waved at the air to get out of the remaining whiffs of pepper spray.

  “I was on the way up to your suite when I heard there was a disturbance.” He glanced over at Jordan. “I figured you two would be hard at work.” His eyes raked over her robe and down to her bare feet. “Or was I mistaken?”

  A rush of heat in her face made the pepper spray look tame by comparison. “I—that—is—I.” She didn’t know how to continue with so many eyes looking in her direction. “Can we go to Jordan’s room and discuss this?” Her throat continued to burn with each word.

  He turned to the security team. “Hold these guys until the police get here. I’ll find out if Ms. Danes wishes to press charges.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded.

  “The lady so chooses.” Jordan glared at the group as if he wanted to give them a close up and personal lesson in sashimi.

  She held on to him. The incident shook her more than she realized, once she was safely nestled in his arms. This was so not like her. She allowed herself the luxury of laying her head against his chest and sinking into his warmth. More and more, it felt right—and scared her worse than the five drunks offering to show her a good time.

  …

  Jordan wanted to personally grind every one of her assailants into hamburger. The woman might be a walking trouble magnet but, like he’d explained to Jericho, she belonged to him. No one messed with her. He had to admit, she did a good job of protecting herself. Pepper spray still tinged the air with a sharpness that burned his nose and made his eyes water.

  He breathed in the spicy scent of his shampoo in her hair while his fingers dug into the soft terry cloth of her robe. He couldn’t get close enough. His heartbeat hadn’t slowed from the moment he heard her screams coming from down the hall. Every moment she’d been with him, every kiss, replayed in his head.

  “I can’t leave you alone for a minute.” He worked to get the words past the knot in his throat. He swallowed and pulled in a deep breath. For a split second, Jordan wanted to shake her for scaring the crap out of him, the next he rained kisses over face. He didn’t give a rat’s ass if Jericho and the whole security staff watched. She started to pull away, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

  She stared up at him with large blue eyes filled with confusion and shear pissed-offedness. “My key card wouldn’t work.”

  “What?” She confused him more than ever. “You’ve been assaulted by these hoodlums and you’re concerned about a key card?”

  “That’s why I was out in the hall. Didn’t you read my note?”

  “What note?”

  “I left it on the table by the sofa.”

  “No, I didn’t see it.” He took her by the shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut for a second before continuing. The need to tear apart the men still boiled in his veins. All it would take is one little spark to set him off. “I heard you scream. Damn it, Tilly.” He pulled her into his arms once more. “Damn it to hell.”

  She didn’t struggle this time, instead, she burrowed closer. “I’m sorry. There really was a note. I said I was goin’ to my room to change clothes, but my key
card wouldn’t work. My cell phone was in my pants pocket in your bathroom. I got locked out of both rooms.” Her warm sigh feathered against his chest. “The only thing I could think to do was to use the courtesy phone. I didn’t want to camp out in front of your door wearin’ nothin’ but a robe.” She glanced up at him with an aggrieved expression on her face. “I would’ve been okay if it weren’t for those yahoos. I’m glad you, Tyler, and security showed up when they did.” The South grew thicker in her voice. “I shoulda gone on down to the lobby, robe and all.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He rested his chin on top of her head and relaxed his hold enough to allow both of them to breathe. “Let’s go back to my room and we’ll figure out what happened.”

  “Okay.” His head went up and down as she nodded. “Looks like things are about to get interestin’.”

  A security guard dragged one of the partiers to his feet. The blonde’s rugged good looks grew waxen under his tan as he continued to gasp for air. “Hey, hey, the bitch maced us, man. You should be hauling her ass in for—”

  “You bet I sprayed you, just like the horn dogs you are.” She whirled out of his hold, clutching the lapels of the robe with one hand, and scooping up the pink canister of pepper spray off the floor with the other. She pointed at the man. “I’ll do it again if you cause me any grief.”

  “I’d be careful of what you call Ms. Danes.” Jericho reached out to take the pepper spray from her shaking hand. “She happens to be a friend of mine.” He glanced over at Jordan and gave him a small nod. “Go with Jordan and let us take care of this. Okay?”

  For once, she gave in without argument. It both pleased and aggravated him. She fought him every step of the way, but minded the detective like a puppy. A hard knot of jealousy tied itself around his heart. “Come on.” He held out his hand. She stood beside him and watched the aftermath of her hallway adventure.