Seducing His Heart Read online

  “Interesting,” he said, nodding his head.

  “The frosting is only chocolate.” She doubled back and scooped out two small portions of sorbet in little cups. Then, she sliced a piece of cake off with the fork and held it out.

  He closed his lips over the moist confection and pulled it off the utensil. With closed eyes, he savored the morsel then gave his verdict. “This is the best cake I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

  “Fine, but does it have too much coffee? Not enough? Is the flavor balanced?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Balanced?”

  She sighed. “This is why I need a professional. Balanced—exactly the right amount of coffee and the right amount of chocolate to give you the perfect mix of flavors.”

  “I think I need another piece to be certain.” He reached for the fork, but Bess snatched it away.

  “Oh, no. I’ll give you another sample. You have to have a certain amount. You can’t shove half the cake in your mouth then give me accurate feedback. You can take some home later.” Again, she fed him. With his eyes closed again, he chewed then licked crumbs off his lips. Bess’s heart kicked up for a second. Focus. Concentrate. Take your eyes off his mouth.

  “I’d say the balance between the flavors is perfect. I wouldn’t want even a tad more coffee or a tad less.” He grinned. “Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

  “You’re supposed to tell the truth.” Not butter me up to get me into bed.

  His eyes widened, and he frowned. “That is the truth!”

  She cocked her head slightly.

  “Absolutely. Why would I lie? Believe me, I can be enough of an asshole to be completely honest. I wouldn’t spare your feelings for a minute, if it meant lying.”

  “That’s blunt.”

  “Look, which do you want? Tactful and dishonest or blunt and honest?”

  “Can’t we do tactful and honest?”

  He laughed. “You’re a handful,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Okay. So, the cake is good. Onto the pie.”

  She handed him the small dish of sorbet and a tiny spoon. He took some and followed her to the next confection. Bess placed the food in his mouth and waited anxiously for the verdict.

  “It’s good, but it needs something,” he said, running his tongue over his lips.

  Bess smiled and went to the refrigerator. She returned with a little bowl of hand-whipped cream. “How about this?”

  His eyes lit up. “I can think of many uses for that,” he snickered.

  She slapped his shoulder. “Focus.” She applied a dollop to the pie then fed him another taste.

  Again he savored, eyes shut. “That’s it. Perfect. Exactly what it needed.”

  “Yes, the pie is denser than the cake. It needs the whipped cream to lighten it.”

  “Well put.”

  “You’re catching on pretty quick.” She took a healthy sip of wine.

  “Thanks. Now the pudding?”

  Bess handed him the sorbet dish, and Whit cleansed his palate.

  “Wait! Let me add the whipped cream first this time.”

  She scooped up some pudding and the right amount of cream. He opened, and she spooned it in. He took the creamy dessert off the utensil with his tongue. Heat gathered inside Bess, making her damp. As he tasted, she fanned herself.

  “This one is a teeny, tiny bit heavier on the coffee,” he said, directing his gaze to hers.

  Bess opened the window wider.

  “Warm?” he asked.

  She nodded. I could jump him right now. Smear him with pudding and whipped cream and—

  “How’d I do?”

  “Fine. For a first timer, excellent.” She moved to a cabinet and pulled out two plastic storage containers. She loaded a healthy piece of cake with frosting into one and a giant slice of pie in the other. “You can take a couple of ramekins with the pudding, if you like. I’m going to be tweaking that recipe, though,” she said as she placed everything on the counter.

  Whit took a big swig of his Cabernet and leaned back against the cabinet. “I can take these home?”

  “Your payment for helping me.” She finished her second glass. The combination of the wine, the desserts, and the closeness of his tempting body ratcheted up her heat higher, and she began to sweat. If I could stick my head in the fridge.

  Bess covered up the pie and took it to the refrigerator. She stayed longer than necessary, cooling her face and body. Then, she returned to pack up the cake.

  Whit stood only a breath away. He touched her hand, making her shiver as she wiped a smidgeon of food from his chin with her thumb. Whit rested his arm around her shoulders and eased her against him.

  Reason had flown out the window. As she swayed toward him, her voice grew softer, causing him to bend down to hear. “We shouldn’t.”

  The wine had reduced her inhibitions to ashes. His breath fanned over her cheek, his mouth only a kiss away. She lifted her glass to keep from touching his lips with hers before she realized it was empty. The front door opened, saving her from intimacy with Whit.

  Terry stood, filling the frame with his wide shoulders and hips concealing an automatic weapon. “I heard there was a tasting here. I had no idea you’d be tasting my girlfriend, buddy.” He rested his hand on his weapon.

  Bess’s eye widened. She jerked away from Whit. He dropped his arm and stepped back, raising his palms to Terry.

  “No harm, no foul, man. Tasting some new stuff for her show.”

  “Looks more like you were about to taste her. Bess?” Terry walked into the living room and turned his gaze from Whit to Bess.

  “What he said, Terry. Ned is sick. I needed someone to taste my mocha magic desserts. You were busy.”

  “Well, I’m not busy now. Run along, buddy.”

  “First, I’m not your buddy. Second, this is Bess’s call. I was only helping.”

  “It looked like it. Gonna help her into bed, too?”

  “Terry, you’re jumping to conclusions. Whit lives down the hall. He’s a neighbor…”

  “I smelled the stuff, the door was open…hey, you’da walked in here, too, if you’da smelled that chocolate and coffee stuff. Wow, it’s amazing. This lady can cook.”

  “Yeah, I know. But the only man she’s cookin’ with is me. You can leave now.”

  “You’d better go,” Bess said in a low voice, handing him the containers.

  “Okay, okay.” Whit moved toward the door.

  “Thanks for helping me. Here, take this,” Bess said, holding out the wine bottle.

  “Keep it. Share some with Mr. Neanderthal here. Thanks for the food,” Whit said, tucking the desserts under his arm.

  “Weren’t you leaving?” Terry asked.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m going. You’re a lucky guy.” Whit closed the door on his way out.

  “I know.” Terry fastened his stare on Bess. He approached her, pulling her by the waist up against him. Then, he kissed her hard.

  Bess pushed on his chest, and he let her go. “What was that about?”

  “What?”

  “You were very rude to my…my neighbor.” She carried the dirty forks into the kitchen.

  “Neighbor? I can spot a guy moving in for the kill a mile away, babe. This guy was all over you.”

  “We were tasting everything. He was very helpful. Now I know what I need to do.”

  “If he’d been any more helpful, you’d be on the floor with him grinding into you right now. Couldn’t you wait until I got off?

  “You said you didn’t know when you’d be free. I was waiting. He wandered in.”

  “Maybe, next time, you should keep your door closed…and your legs, too.” Bess stepped forward to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t do that. Don’t ever hit me. You don’t know what I might do. I’m trained to defend, and I’d hate like hell to hurt you.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that. It’s degrading,” she said, water filling her eyes.

  Terry pulled her hand to h
im and kissed it. “I’m sorry, honey.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. Terry caught them with his thumb. “Come here.” She inched closer to him, and he circled his arms around her, gently. “You know I’m crazy about you. I got jealous. I’m sorry.”

  “You come in with that gun on and scare everyone to death.”

  He removed his weapon and sat it on the front hall table. “I’m sorry. I forget.”

  Bess wiped her face and nose with a tissue. Terry moved behind her and massaged her shoulders. He leaned down to kiss her neck. “Now about that tasting…” he whispered.

  “There’s plenty left,” she said, closing her eyes and resting back against his chest.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “Let me get a fork.”

  “I had something else in mind,” he slipped his fingers under her T-shirt and caressed her waist then moved them up.

  “Oh?”

  “I want you, babe. Now.” He turned her around and kissed her. She opened for him, and he demanded her total surrender. Before she could take a breath, he had her shirt off and her bra unsnapped.

  Bess broke from him and led him to her bedroom. Suddenly, she was hot, hotter than a blazing fire, and she needed him. He was down to his boxers before she could unzip her jeans.

  Terry slid her pants down and off then hooked his thumbs in her panties. “Love you in red,” he said, practically panting.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Let’s take ’em off.” Terry picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. He pulled out a condom and covered himself. One swipe of his fingers across her burning flesh, and she was ready.

  “Second time, we go for foreplay,” he said, pushing up on his knees. He plunged into her, eliciting a groan from both of them. Bess raised her legs higher, and he buried himself all the way in. Her fingers gripped his shoulders as he moved in and out of her, increasing the pace as he went.

  When she closed her eyes, a vision of Whit, stripped to the waist and bending down to kiss her, flashed through her brain. Bess opened to see Terry above her. The heat inside her coiled up and burst forth like firecrackers. She grunted loudly as pleasure filled her veins.

  Her hands slid down his back, which was covered in a fine layer of sweat, to rest on his rump. He continued to thrust in and pull out, moaning louder with each movement. Finally, he called her name and stopped.

  Heavy breathing almost drowned out the click click click of tiny, pug toenails on the wood floor. Dumpling entered the room and flopped down on the dog pillow next to the bed.

  “Thanks, Dumpling, for not crowding us,” Terry said with a chuckle. He pushed up on his hands and placed a sweet kiss on Bess’s lips. “You’re the best, babe,” he said, pulling out and making his way to the bathroom.

  Bess lay back and closed her eyes. Who did I make love to? Terry? Or Whit? Dumpling climbed up the doggie stairs and curled up beside her on the mattress. She stroked the dog absently. Who was in my mind? What did I do? Was I unfaithful to Terry?

  “I’ve got to shove off. I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. It’s this undercover shit.” He checked his phone. “Meeting the perp at a bar in twenty minutes.”

  Bess sighed. I’m confused. Need to think. She pushed to her feet and wrapped a pink, silk robe around her frame.

  “Next Friday, as usual?” He donned his clothes quickly.

  She nodded, following him to the door.

  Terry stuck his gun in his waistband and faced her. “You’re a sweetheart,” he said then planted a kiss on her lips.

  “Yeah, yeah. See you Friday.” She was anxious to be alone.

  Dumpling followed, barking at him. As he headed into the hall, Whit’s door opened. The broadcaster stood still, staring with narrowed eyes at Bess in her robe. She tightened the sash and felt the heat from him. Neither smiled. His gaze traveled her length before he offered a curt nod. The ding of the elevator diverted their attention. He joined Terry.

  Bess shut her door. Tears pricked at her eyes. What am I doing? Who do I want? I can’t have Whit and Terry. She sank down on the sofa after swiping a ramekin of pudding from the counter. As she ate, she considered her options.

  I could avoid them both. Then I lose. She glanced at the calendar on her fridge. Only three days until the Dinner Club meets. She smiled. They’re my back-up. They’ll tell me what to do. She padded into the kitchen and prepared Dumpling’s food. Then, she microwaved some leftovers for herself.

  She turned on the television and lounged on the couch. After wolfing down her dinner in a few gulps, Dumpling settled in next to Bess, rested her head on Bess’s leg, and fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  Bess turned down the heat on her special spaghetti sauce. The water for the pasta was almost at a boil when the buzzer from the lobby sounded. The girls are here! She grinned as she gave Crash the okay to let them up.

  “Your friends are here, Dumpling. Are you going to greet them?” She opened the door, and the pug raced into the hall, her tongue lolling, looking around. The little dog trotted over to Whit’s door. She sniffed and barked. He opened it and bent down to pet the tiny animal.

  “Dumpling, come to say hello, eh?” He straightened his tie and closed the door behind him. When he looked up, his gaze collided with Bess’s.

  “Hot date?” She cocked an eyebrow and watched him blush.

  The elevator interrupted them. The doors opened, and Rory unhooked Baxter as Miranda unleashed her pugs, Romeo and Juliet. The dogs barked, sniffed, and raced around each other in the hall. Whit hugged the wall to avoid being trampled. Dumpling led the crowd away from him as she took off into her apartment. The others followed. Rory and Miranda glanced at Whit as he passed them.

  He pressed the button for the lobby. “Good night, ladies,” he murmured. Bess waved the women in.

  “Who the hell was that?” Rory asked. Miranda simply gave a low whistle.

  “My new neighbor,” Bess said, closing the door.

  The sound of the buzzer alerted her to Brooke’s arrival with her pugs, Freddie and Ginger. Once the women were assembled, Miranda opened a bottle of pinot noir she had brought.

  “Did you see that gorgeous hunk coming out of the building, Brooke?” Rory asked.

  “Hunk? There was a guy walking in the other direction. Couldn’t see his face.”

  “He looked familiar,” Miranda said.

  “Whitfield Bass, the news guy,” Bess said, sipping the wine.

  “He lives here?”

  “Yeah. Just moved in.” Bess shook her head.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Miranda asked, refilling everyone’s glasses.

  “Hell, a hunk across the hall? How…how…convenient,” Brooke snickered.

  “Terry didn’t think so.”

  The women glanced at each other. Rory spoke up. “Terry?”

  “Let’s eat, and I’ll tell you what happened.” Bess added the fresh pasta to the water then handed plates to Miranda, silverware to Brooke, and napkins to Rory.

  “Yum, spaghetti and meatballs,” Miranda said, peeking into the pot of tomato sauce.

  “And green salad with fennel and hearts of palm.”

  “I love this club. I’m starved,” Rory said.

  Bess served steaming dishes of her special meatballs and sauce. Brooke tossed the salad. Miranda manned the wine. While they ate, Bess explained what had happened during her tasting. She hesitated to reveal her mixed feelings.

  “So, who do you like best, Terry or Whit?” Rory asked.

  “I…I thought, Terry. But Whit is…something about him is so…so appealing. Something beyond his being such a hunk. There’s something in him reaching out to me.”

  “Uh oh,” Miranda said. “Be careful that something is safely covered.”

  Brooke burst out laughing. “Shame on you. She’s serious.”

  “Oops, sorry.” Miranda blushed.

  “It’s confusing.” Bess put down her fork, tears blinding her eyes.


  Brooke reached over and rubbed her back. “Why are you so upset? If you prefer Whit, then Terry’ll have to accept that.”

  “Whit’s not interested in me. He dates supermodels. That’s where he was headed tonight. Flavor of the week, the night, whatever. I’m definitely not his type.”

  “But what you said about the tasting…” Rory asked.

  “That was attraction. Sex. Nothing more. I was there, near, you know. I doubt he’d ever consider me for more than a roll in the hay. That’s not enough for me.”

  The women ate without conversation.

  “This is the best spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever eaten,” Rory said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “Thanks. I have a great treat for you.”

  Miranda’s eyes lit up. “What?”

  “Mocha Magic. Three desserts.”

  “The stuff you made for Whit?” Brooke asked.

  “I didn’t actually make it for him…but, yeah, I guess.”

  “Does this have some magic in it? Is it an aphrodisiac? Should I call Hack and tell him to be naked and ready when I get home?”

  Bess giggled. “Maybe that’s it. The chocolate and coffee together.”

  “I’ll let you know if your magic works on me.”

  “You and Hack? From what you’ve said, no aphrodisiac needed,” snickered Brooke.

  Rory blushed as her friends laughed. When the women finished, they cleared the dishes.

  “Let’s take a break before the sweet stuff.” Bess plopped down on the sofa and was immediately joined by Dumpling, who snuggled into her.

  “I think you ought to get to know this Whit guy better before you label him a player,” Miranda said, dipping a dirty dish into soapy water. The ladies never let Bess clean up. Rory finished clearing, and Brooke picked up a clean towel. Miranda placed the plate in the dishwasher then tackled the pot.

  “What’s with Terry, anyway? How come he let this guy move in on you?” Rory asked.

  “Terry’s only available on Friday nights.”