Devour Me (Master Chefs Series #1) (6 page)

When
she picked up a bone and ravenously sucked on the tip, he nearly dropped his
glass of wine.  Her lips, perfectly puckered, perfectly sensuous, perfectly set
to take him in and… Oh, how delicious it would be.

As
wonderful as the meal was, he set his fork down and leaned back with his glass
of wine and watched her. One by one, she took each of the four bones on her
plate and cleaned them off, picking daintily at the remaining meat with her
long slender fingers before sucking the juices off.

He
tried to catch her gaze.  Did she have any idea the effect she had on him?  For
all appearances, she seemed oblivious.  Her appetite was reserved to the food
on her plate and not the hungry man sitting in front of her.

She
set her fork down and looked at him.  “Without wanting to sound pretentious, I
have to admit I impress myself.”

“And
with good reason.  It was a bold move, but the contradiction of flavors was
perfectly balanced.” He reached out to take her hand. “Looks like I made the
right choice it taking you on to test my recipes. You won’t have any trouble
finding flaws or miscalculations. You’ll probably even improve many of them.”

She
cocked a brow.  “Will I get credit?”

“Sure,
why not?”

“Really? 
I was being facetious.”

“I
might be a pretentious and arrogant bastard when I need to be, but I know how
to give credit where credit is due.  I might even include this very meal in my
book… if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay? 
It’s more than okay.  It’s fabulous.  Wait until I tell my mother.  My own
recipe, my own creation in a book as prestigious as yours.”

His
hand remained over hers and he was dismayed by the lack of physical reaction
from her.  She didn’t grip his fingers or show any sign of welcoming more of his
touch.  Cool and aloof, she pulled away, stood and cleared the dishes. Did she
not have any desire for him?

“Wait
until you see what I concocted for dessert.”

She
returned a minute later. “These are caramelized tangerine slices on a bed of a
secret crunchy cereal mix, drizzled with a buttery citrus
coulis
.”

“Humm,”
he mumbled as he chewed on his first bite. “An interesting touch of saltiness
that embraces that tartness of the tangerine.  Excellent.”

Errol
was genuinely impressed by the creative boldness of the young woman in front of
him so much so that he finished off the evening sitting back and enjoying
Taryn’s culinary creations, relegating his sexual urges to another day.

Taryn’s
lack of response tonight puzzled him, yet frustrated him. He was ready to show
this innocent beauty all the pleasures her body could take, but instead, her
passion was for the culinary dishes she created tonight. He was proud of her
bold choices, but frustrated. He didn’t want a woman in his bed, who did not
want to be there. Yet, he was so certain, she wanted him as badly as he wanted
her.

*****

The
weeks’ classes were a blur of knife skills, storing methods and the preparation
of dough and sauces. Every day, Errol was surprised and impressed by Taryn’s
keen palate and her ability to see what few students saw. She was focused on
her studies, and as serious as the most promising students already working
professionally at prestigious restaurants were.

Her
questions were always straight to the point and her answers articulate.

But
what caught his attention was the simple beauty she brought to his class every
day. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, nor could he help wanting to get
close to her and touch her when he could. While many of the other young female
students, and even a few males, tried desperately to gain his attention, his
eyes constantly returned to Taryn who continued living under his roof, so close
yet so far away. Her sudden indifference to him frustrated him, yet he bid his
time. He savored the challenge she posed, knowing when the time came for him to
make her his, it would be worth it.

More
often than not, her eyes were on Henri, smiling, affectionate and kind. She
often helped him where he fumbled, but Errol had to admit, the young man from
the countryside had talent, if not a certain boyish charm.

The
two together were a powerful force; something that had not gone unnoticed by
the rest of the class. It was also clear to any man, the boy was besotted with
Taryn, sneaking glances are her when she wasn’t looking, finding any excuse to
touch her hand or shoulders. Had not Taryn responded so strongly to him that
first day they met, Errol would have been concerned about the innocent
flirtations Henri shared with Taryn. But Errol, nevertheless, kept his eye on
him. And Taryn. Always on Taryn.

Chapter 5

“
I
loved your class today,” Taryn said as she
leaned into the counter to watch him clean the oysters, mussels and clams he’d
just brought home.

“Really?
It was just a revision of what we looked at last week. I was surprised to see
the number of students who couldn’t handle skinning and filleting a salmon.”

“You’ll
think I’m childish and petty, but I think that’s part of the reason I liked
it.  So many students have been mean and nasty to me.  It was kind of nice
watching them stumble their way around that poor fish.”

Grinning,
Errol looked at her. Childish innocence hung around her like a golden aura. It
wasn’t hard to see why so many of the girls in class disliked her. She was
beautiful, smart and talented. As for the boys in the class, obviously Taryn
hadn’t noticed the way they always looked at her, sneaking a peek whenever she
wasn’t looking.

Without
her even noticing, her rear end always seemed to attract a large amount of that
attention from the men. Every time she took her overcoat off at the end of the
class, male eyes turned her way.  She had an exquisite way of filling out the
snug jeans she always wore in class.

“Is
it true what they say about oysters?” Taryn asked.

“I
don’t know. What do they say about oysters?”

Taryn
shot him a quirky smirk. “You're a chef.  You were raised in France.  You're reported to be a sex machine. Don’t try to tell me you don’t know what
everybody else says about oysters.  I’m sure even your Nana knows.”

“Oh,
the sex thing.”  He held up a perfect specimen.  “These?”

“Yes,
those.”

“Well,
you know what?  How ‘bout we cook all these babies up, serve them in a
delicious, Italian inspired sauce and see what happens.”

After
pouring her a glass of ruby red wine, he poured some into the sauce he’d
concocted.

Within
minutes each shellfish had cracked open, revealing the tender meat inside. Taryn
artistically placed a few asparagus spears and glazed carrots onto two plates.

“Dinner
is served.” Errol spooned the oysters, clams and mussels into two large bowls.

“Certainly
smells enticing.”

“Have
you ever had oysters before?”  He took his seat and looked at the uncertain
grimace on her face.

“I
did… once… a long time ago.  It didn’t look anything like this.”

“Now,”
Errol said as he picked up a shell and brought it to his mouth. “Let me tell
you what I think about this whole aphrodisiac business. While some believe
eating oysters will stir your libido, I think…”  He slipped his tongue over the
quivering mass of flesh atop the shell.

Taryn
had the exact reaction he was hoping for.  Her eyes widened in shock, narrowed
with intrigue then became heavily hooded with a secret longing to see more. He
obliged, passing his tongue over the bulbous nub that attached the meat to the
shell.

Her
lips parted.

Yes,
he thought as he watched her with growing interest. Tonight. The cat and mouse
game had gone on long enough.  He’d played the part of the caring mentor, the
dictating chef and the pleasant host.

Now
it was time to see what she really had hidden beneath that prim exterior.

He
pried apart the black glistening shell of a mussel, exposing the dark meat; the
perfect replica of a woman’s hidden lips.  “Many men like to view this as the
taste of a woman.  See the resemblance.”  He slipped his tongue along the
tempting folds of flesh.

“So,
by your estimation, it’s not just oysters, it’s all shellfish.”

“I
guess it’s all in the way you look at it.”  He pried the meat off the shell
with a small fork and popped it into his mouth.  “I mean, if you really want to
examine the issue, let’s talk about bananas.  Or, let’s have a look at that
piece of asparagus on your plate.”

She
poked her fork into the asparagus and brought it to her parted lips. 

“Are
you inspired?”

Her
features crinkled up into a funny grimace.  “I get the banana, but this?”

“Try
it,” he urged, curious to see the workings of her mouth.

She
brought the tip of the asparagus into her mouth, closed her lips around it and
gently pulled it back out, letting her lips gently stroke it.

It
was his turn to stare with hooded eyes.  He shifted as his swiftly growing
hard-on made him suddenly uncomfortable in his chair. Deeper, he wanted to say,
but he let her find her own pace.

Her
tongue snaked out to lick dripping butter off the length of the spear then she
slowly pushed the vegetable between her pouted lips. It all but disappeared in
her mouth before she pulled it out, keeping an enticing amount of pressure of
the lucky spear.

“How’s
that?” she asked with cool innocence.

“Seems
you’ve caught on pretty fast.”

She
bit the tip of the asparagus off and pointed the remainder at Errol.  “I have
no idea what you’re talking about.  I just wanted to lick the delicious butter
off before eating it.”

He
grinned. The blend of naiveté and sensuality she displayed was precisely what
he’d been looking for. The women who threw themselves on him were always too
easy, too giving, too brash and too obvious.  They had no notion of subtlety,
no notion of how to play the game.  It all made for a boring and predictable
chase.

As
the dinner progressed, his desire to have her became excruciating. The heat of
the evening had brought beads of perspiration to her neck and they now trickled
down between her breasts, which he wanted to run his tongue over.

Her
face flushed with desire and interest in her plate waned.  Her loss of appetite
was a clear indicator; something else was on her mind… him.

“A
little more wine,” he offered as he reached for the bottle.

“I
don’t think so.”

The
four little words instantly threw a wrench in his plans. It wasn’t the polite
refusal of someone who’d already had enough to drink.  Her words were heavy and
leaden… the begrudged refusal of someone who didn’t feel too well.

“You
okay?”

“I’m
not sure,” she admitted.

“Do
you want to lie down?”

She
passed her hand through the increasingly damp strands of hair that had escaped
her ponytail.  “That might be a good idea.  I’m sorry, Errol,” she said as she
rose. “I think I might have taken too much wine.”

He
knew that was impossible. She’d barely touched the second glass he’d poured.

Standing
on shaky legs, she kept one hand on the edge of the table and the other over
her disturbed belly.

He
placed his hand over her forehead. “I think we should get you to the
hospital.”  He stood and took a hold of her arm to steady her.

“Don’t
be ridiculous.  I’m…”  Her words faded to nothing just as the blood drained
from her face.

“Taryn!”

“I
don’t feel so good.”

He
swept her into his arms, grabbed his car keys and hurried out.

*****

“Shellfish
can be tricky sometimes,” the doctor said as he signed the release form. “Many
people fail to prepare them properly and this is the result.”

For
a second, Errol fumed at the allegations.  He was a chef, a world renowned
chef. For Pete’s sake, he knew how to prepare shellfish.  He knew how to prepare
virtually anything.

“She’s
lucky you brought her here so quickly.  Had you allowed her to go lie down and
try to sleep it off… well, I’ve seen people get really sick; a lot worse than
this.”

“I
can take her home now?” Errol said as the doctor finished.

“You
sure can, but keep her away from anything that could upset her stomach. 
Nothing too rich, nothing too spicy, nothing too greasy.”

Greasy? 
Didn’t this man know who he was?  Errol King never served anything greasy.

“Keep
her diet simple and bland for a few days.  She’ll appreciate it.”

“I
will…” Errol said, never ever having gone without adding any seasoning to his
meals. He sighed. Taryn Cummings was pushing him in ways he’d never been pushed
before. First the waiting for her, and now the change to his way of preparing a
meal. He had never been more frustrated, but turned on by a woman.

Chapter 6

“
W
hat’d I miss?” Taryn asked the moment Errol
walked through the door. She’d been absent from class for two days and couldn’t
wait to get back.  Lying in her bed watching television was something she
loathed to do and the thought of missing out on so many classes exacerbated the
issue.  Though she still felt sluggish and queasy, she hoped to be back on her
feet the next day.

“Hygiene,”
he said with a wry smirk.

“Stop
kicking yourself, Errol. These things happen.”

“Not
to me, they don’t.” He sat on the edge of her bed and gently put the back of
his hand to her forehead.

“I
take part of the blame.  I kept talking to you, asking a bunch of silly
questions. You were distracted.”