A Pinch of Kitchen Magic

by Sandra Sookoo

  Slowly, Matteus lowered his hand. “I believe you, but I’m having trouble understanding this new phenomenon. Why could you use your energies earlier on the tomatoes and not now?” He wrinkled his nose and then sneezed. “Do you smell smoke?”

  “My sauce!” Aidan sprinted into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in front of the stove. A potholder near the flame under the burner caught fire and wisps of gray smoke rapidly filled the kitchen. “Find me something to put the fire out!” When he didn’t follow her instructions, she cursed under her breath. Typical man. Absolutely useless in a crisis.

  The pot of tomato sauce bubbled madly over the sides to dribble onto the floor. Aidan gagged at the sharp smell of burning fabric. “A little help would be appreciated.” Irritation warred with fear as she grabbed the smoldering potholder with a pair of kitchen tongs and dropped it into the sink.

  “You seem to have things under control.”

  Rolling her eyes at the smug instructor, she glared at the pot, daring it to continue to bubble. With a tiny crook of her finger, the angry, roiling red sauce evened off, then finally became still. “Take that, you Italian menace.” Transferring her glare to the tap, she cocked an eyebrow. Water poured into the sink. There was a hiss, and then a plume of black smoke curled toward the ceiling.

  “Impressive.” Matteus moved further into the kitchen just as the smoke alarm began to peal. “You managed to contain two threats at once while controlling your magic so nothing dire could occur.”

  “Thanks.” Aidan allowed herself a small smile. She took a deep breath, coughing when the acrid smoke crept into her lungs. “I feel powerful in the kitchen. My nerves are tingling, my mind is sharper.” She twirled around and shot a joyful glance over her shoulder at him. “This is where I belong. A kitchen with food around me and herbs and spices just outside my back door, is my nirvana, my heaven.”

  “Hettie did say your talent showed strong in a kitchen setting but she never elaborated on it before she left for Europe. And she must not have wished to be disturbed, as I can’t trace her magical signature.” He rubbed his jaw. “Could it be possible?”

  “Could what be possible?” Aidan came to a wobbly halt before him, clutching onto his arm to steady herself. As before, sparks flew between them. “Matteus?” Her heart beat frantically against her ribcage as the storm in his eyes drowned her, pulled her under with hypnotic force. She drew in a shuddering breath, waiting while anticipation for the unknown crawled through her stomach.

  “I wonder.” Matteus closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth to hers.

  * * * *

  He had lost his mind. In one brief, shining moment of insanity, he ceased to exist as the man he had come to know and morphed into a man who cared nothing for destiny or common sense. As he caressed her soft lips, he had enough willpower to resist the urge to release her upswept hair from the clip that kept it in place. When he heard her soft sound of pleasure, he pulled away, shaken. His hard-won control wouldn’t last if she insisted on making such sexy noises. “This must not be repeated.”

  “I may not be an expert at kissing, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” Aidan stared at him, her brown eyes wide and clouded with confusion with irritation quickly chasing it.

  That’s the understatement of the year.

  He took a step back, ignoring how his leather loafer squelched in a puddle of sticky tomato sauce. “As kisses go, it was fair. I can do much better, but that’s beside the point.” He wanted to kiss the exasperation from her face, wanted to show her just how good a kisser he was, but didn’t trust himself to move any closer to her. The power she exuded almost sparkled like a rocket on the Fourth of July. It still warmed his insides and made its presence known as if he’d swallowed a handful of that popping rock candy.

  No wonder Hettie had sent him a special note regarding Aidan’s potential.

  “Look, forget about the kiss. It was a mistake that caught me in a weak moment.” His left temple started to pound. The damn alarm hammered his brain. “Enough of the noise!” He pointed at the smoke detector, grunting with satisfaction when it shattered into tiny pieces of white plastic. “Remind me to replace that for you.” By accident, his gaze fell to her lips. They were red and a bit swollen from the crush of his kiss. As his gut clenched with need, he groaned. He’d like nothing more than to kiss her again, continue her education into something much more exciting that would sate them both. To distract himself, he glanced around the kitchen that now resembled the scene of a food fight in a school cafeteria. “You used magic to quell the situation.”

  She shrugged then knelt down to mop up the red spill. “Is that important?”

  Matteus rubbed his temple as he admired her curves when she applied herself to her task. “Immensely.” Moving away from her, he fiddled with her chef’s knife. Light glanced off the shiny blade. “The kitchen must be your grounding area. You gain the bulk of your power in this room for some reason.”

  “Will that be a problem?” Aidan looked up, her lips forming a frown.

  Compared to the new and bigger problem of my immediate and inexplicable attraction to you? He grimaced. “No. It just means you can only use your powers in the kitchen. I have no idea, yet, how much of an issue it will prove to be. I also wonder if it’s limited to this kitchen or would any kitchen let you use your magic.” Though his kitchen in New York was small, the one in the villa on Santorini was quite spacious. His insides warmed to think of seeing her pad about the light-filled room wearing only one of his t-shirts…

  Almost ruthlessly, he shoved away the thought.

  She stood, her fingers intertwined in the towel. “Well, Aunt Hettie always told me the kitchen is the heart of any home. Since this used to be her house, I guess she was right.” She tossed the stained dishrag into the sink. When she turned back to him, she cocked her head, waiting. “The kids at school used to call Aunt Hettie a kitchen witch. Maybe this is why. Maybe I’ll be like her.”

  “Your energy is apparently drawn to the room where she spent most of her time. It makes sense.” Matteus took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Let’s move on with the rest of your assessment.” He stroked a red pepper, following the waxy curve of its crimson flesh while his mind wandered to the possibilities of stroking the curve of Aidan’s hip. He gritted his teeth. Banishing her from his mind was proving to be a difficult task. “Except I find I have no patience to deal with your education anymore today. We’ll begin again tomorrow afternoon.” Of its own accord, the hand holding the knife began to slice the pepper into even strips. He wasn’t aware he wanted to engage in menial kitchen tasks such as this.

  It was only when he caught the last fragment of her giggle that understanding skipped through his mind. Aidan is manipulating my hands!

  “Stop at once. Magic should never be used to control people against their will.”

  “If it was truly against your will, I wouldn’t be able to suggest it to you.” She drifted to the butcher block, her eyes dancing with mirth, her dimples winking at him from her rounded cheeks.

  He frowned at her reasoning, and a tiny part of his brain wondered if she had influenced their kiss as well since he’d wanted that too. Matteus easily broke the bonds her energies held over him, but he continued to chop the vegetable, this time of his own deliberate choosing. He watched her warily. “I will be forced to remove you from your magic if you continue to abuse your gift.” A brief, sharp stab of pain recalled his wandering mind back to his task. “I’ll leave you a Primary Instruction Book. At least then you can get a few questions answered.”

  “You’ve cut yourself.” She flicked a glance to his fingers.

  With a partially uninterested glance, he saw a shallow nick on the middle finger of his left hand. “This is what comes from not paying attention.” Never had he made such a stupid mistake as being distracted—especially by a woman. He was always in tight control of his emotions and thoughts. He had to be, otherwise, he’d be a dead man. Matteus narrowed his eyes.
There was something bewitching about Aidan and it had nothing to do with white magic. “You did this.”

  Aidan moved closer. She bent her head to examine the wound. “Oh please. This is just a tiny cut. If I wanted to injure you with a knife, don’t you think I’d have done something bigger?” She grinned. “I’m kidding. One time I sliced off the very end of my thumb, which was unfortunate since I was chopping baby carrots.” She winked. “Imagine trying to find a thumb tip in that mess. But I did and they sewed it back on quite nicely.”

  His nose twitched as her perfume wound enticing fingers around his consciousness, building images in his mind of cookies, coffee, and early mornings in bed. Desire tightened his chest as the images of rumpled bedclothes and tangled strands of her hair danced in his head. “You really have no aptitude for cooking, do you?” He brought his knuckle to his mouth to suck off the bit of blood.

  “I’m a lousy chef, but I’m hoping the magic will help in that department.” She gestured at him and her smile widened. “That’s gross. I’ll get something that will kill the germs.” She moved to a scratched and well-worn wooden pantry that had undoubtedly been a clothing armoire in its past.

  Matteus willed his body to relax. Not an easy feat when heat crawled over his skin at her very nearness. “As long as you use the magic to improve your culinary skills for domestic enjoyment and not arrogant fame, I have no problem with that.”

  She returned with a glass jar of honey. “This will fix you right up.”

  “What does honey have to do with wounds?” He inhaled sharply when she sidled next to him and took his hand into hers. “I’ve taken honey in my tea or used it in glazes but never as a homeopathic remedy.” His heart raced as she let a few drops of the thick, amber syrup dribble onto his finger.

  Her tinkling laughter filled the kitchen. “Honey has always been used as an antiseptic.” She rubbed the sticky substance over his fingers, massaging it into the cut. “It prevents infection and encourages healing.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I’ve heard it can heal common complaints like sore throats, acne or bad breath or even serious illnesses like heart disease or cancer. There should be more research done instead of spending crazy money on dangerous chemicals they label as medicine.”

  Matteus said nothing. The words died in his throat as she continued her ministrations to his cut. He could think of another, much more satisfying, use for honey. Images of the viscous liquid shimmering on the pale mound of her breast flashed across his mind’s eye. “Uh, I think I’ll be fine now.” He swallowed hard and claimed his hand with a bit more force than necessary, clearing his throat when she frowned. “Thank you.” He needed to get away before the harmless images had a chance to blossom into real acts, before he had cause to abuse his power.

  “You’re welcome.” She glanced at him from under her lashes. “Will you stay for dinner?”

  He repeated to himself that she wasn’t his usual type of woman. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” He favored tall, leggy blondes, not short, curvy redheads.

  “You can make your own pizza.” Her tone was cajoling and innocent.

  Not unless I have a death wish. “Absolutely not!” With a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

  * * * *

  Aidan stamped her foot in frustration.

  She hated when he popped in and out of her house. What gave him the right to dismiss her in the middle of a conversation? And she was still hungry. No dough, no sauce, and now the red peppers were off limits because he might have bled on them. If she expected the magic to feed her better than she could manually, she was sadly mistaken. With a sigh, she began to wash out the pot.

  Why couldn’t she just be a normal woman with a normal life? Heck, why couldn’t she just whip up a pot of soup without endangering herself or the whole neighborhood? And worse, why couldn’t she stop thinking of ways to get her handsome magic instructor into compromising positions?

  Not having immediate answers, Aidan found small comfort swishing the sponge in the soapy water. She sighed when she remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, the way his body fit to hers, the heat of being in his arms however briefly. Her mind swam with forbidden images and her heart ached with tantalizing promise.

  Next time she saw Matteus, she would demand he show her a few more ways to use her magic if only to have him spend more time with her.

  Chapter Three

  Dreaming of roasted chicken

  What she wouldn’t give to be able to roast a chicken as well as the one in the picture, all brown, crispy skin, fragrant with savory goodness. Aidan’s mouth watered as she flipped through the poultry section of a cookbook. Sighing, she reached for a small glass jar. She had been practicing her magic for three days and her skill in the kitchen left much to be desired. In all that time, her instructor hadn’t paid her a visit. She didn’t know what made her sadder: her inability to cook or the fact she missed him. Unscrewing the cap to the spice jar, she inhaled the aroma of the herb blend.

  “God that smells good.” If a chicken rub could be a perfume then this would be it. Floral, savory with just a hint of thyme and rosemary, Aidan thought she could even detect the elusive scent of bay leaves. “Too bad you’re not magical either.” Replacing the cap, she turned another page of the cookbook.

  She rested her chin in her hand. Staring dreamily at a collection of tin ladles that hung on the golden yellow wall, she envisioned herself with a raw chicken before her. In her daydream, Aidan massaged the cold skin of the bird with her fingers. She sprinkled on a goodly amount of the aromatic spice blend, rubbing the herbs into the breast of the chicken. She slathered olive oil and greenery into the legs, coated the pale thighs.

  Then her vision flickered and skipped. Matteus lay stretched on red satin sheets as she rubbed strawberry flavored massage oil into the lean, trim planes of his back. She worked her hands, slippery with oil, along his ribcage, skimmed lower to his waist, slithered them past slim hips to…

  Her nose twitched. It smelled of rain in the kitchen, sweeping away the aroma of the spice blend. He was in her kitchen. Her chicken fantasy vanished but the image of Matteus lingered a bit longer. “How long have you been standing there?” Irritation chased off the euphoria reading the cookbook provided.

  “Long enough.” Matteus slid into the chair opposite her. His gaze slipped over the open pages of the cookbooks on the tabletop between them.

  “What made you decide to pop in after three days of silence?” That made her sound petty, as if she had a previous claim to him. Aidan bit her lip, holding his gaze with her own. She banished all sexy thoughts of him to the forgotten area of her mind.

  “I found the need for space between us a more imminent issue than the need to further your skills assessment.” Two deep lines of worry wrinkled the smoothness of his brow.

  “Ah. I hope you had a relaxing time away from me then.”

  “It was quiet, but not relaxing.” His gaze flickered then dropped briefly to his hand before meeting hers once more. “I trust you’ve been practicing?”

  “Yes.” She sighed before rushing into the silence. “Do you think I can be redeemed after all or am I so hopeless that’s why you stayed away?”

  A trace of a blush stained his neck. “Everyone can be redeemed from whatever holds them hostage.”

  “How does the rule regarding arrogance and magic not apply to you?” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “You have a high opinion of yourself.”

  His shrug was slight. “My opinion is high because I am good at what I do.” He undid the top button of his gray silk shirt. “Arrogance and confidence is not the same thing.”

  “I’ll withhold my opinion on your opinion until I know you better.” She closed the cookbook with a snap. “I didn’t waste these three days. I’ve learned a few things but haven’t come close to conjuring a six course meal.”

  He cleared his throat while drumming his slender fingers on the glossy front of a magazine. “You’re dreaming too big. Small victories should be yo
ur goal.” The corners of his mouth tilted upward with a lopsided smile. “Also, I would caution you against conjuring. It’s a messy business at best. Someone will inevitably get hurt. Stick with ingredients already in existence then go from there. Use what you have on hand and manipulate them with the skills you possess.”

  Aidan narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t sure she could trust him. She tidied the cookbooks into a neat stack, aligning the worn and cracked spines in an orderly row. “I’ve learned a few things about cooking.” She stood. The sound of chair legs scraping against the tiled floor made her cringe.

  “And I suppose you’re about to share your wealth of culinary enlightenment with me?” Matteus stood in one fluid motion, amusement playing about his features. “By all means, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Hmm, sounds like an arrogant comment to me.” She moved across the black and white checked tiled floor. “There are some times when cooking can’t be rushed. It’s more of an artistic endeavor.” Yanking open a tangerine colored, retro-style refrigerator, she gathered a carton of milk and a stick of butter. “Cooking is a selfish master. You get out of it what you put into it.” Aidan closed the door with her hip and looked at Matteus. “You can’t hurry it and you can’t make it better with magic.”

  “Everything can be enhanced with magic. And don’t you want to use your magic to help with your cooking?”

  She ignored the tiny fact.

  “I love newbies.” Unmistakable sarcasm dripped from his tone. He leaned his shoulder against the fridge and assumed an attitude of boredom. “Back to the magic. Years ago there was a particularly gifted fashion model. I reconstructed her earlobes.” He rubbed his chin. “She was quite grateful.”