Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me

"I'm sorry;' she said in her no-nonsense accountant voice, the one that let her clients know that they'd better pay their bills ASAP or face dire consequences. "I really need to be going now. And I can see how busy you are tonight. Thank you for the drink, and good luck with everything."

She stood up to leave, but Jack was faster than she was. "One lesson;' he said, blocking her with his body. Rose couldn't breathe with him standing so close, his hard chest pressed up against her br**sts. She felt her own chest rise and fall quickly, saw his eyes flicker to her br**sts. He was so persistent, and she was so bad at saying no.

"I can't;' she said.

"I insist;' he said, his hand on the small of her back again, sending electric shocks straight through her. "Just one;' she finally said, feeling certain that he wouldn't let her loose until she agreed. She was desperate for some air. For some space from the most arousing man she'd ever set eyes on. The most intoxicating man that had ever touched her. Even if it was only a couple of square inches on her back through her dress, it was still the most deeply sensual thing that had ever happened to her. No wonder why she'd never really understood the allure of the Kama Sutra. You've got to work to keep your man happy, her mother had always said, and because Rose was an overachiever at heart she'd memorized the ancient sex manual. But what no one bothered to mention was the fact that sex was a hell of a lot more than where you positioned your arms and legs. It was all about chemistry.

And Lord knew she'd never gone up in flames like this with any of the men she'd been with. Especially not Elliot.

Jack brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes, and a shiver of awareness nearly made her cry out in pleasure. "One lesson;' he repeated, "but if you enjoy it, I hope you'll want more."

Rose licked her suddenly dry lips. Unfortunately, what she wanted couldn't possibly be what he was offeringeven though he seemed to be staring at her like a starved man at a gourmet buffet.

Why, she wondered, was he so insistent that she take his cooking classes? Could it be an ego thing? The curl he'd tucked back behind her ear fell across her forehead again. "You have beautiful hair:' "It's too unruly;' she said automatically, but his surprising compliment made her feel bad about jumping to conclusions about his motives.

That was the problem with getting dumped one too many times for a thinner, younger model. It was making her cynical. Not as cynical as Vanessa, certainly-she still held out hope that there really was such a thing as true love-but enough that she needed to keep her distance, from here on out, from any and all gorgeous men. Especially ones like Jack Gerard, men that made her breath catch and the vee between her thighs feel heavy and warm. If she was smart, she was only going to go after pasty, boring accountant types like herself. Men who were afraid of being dumped by her, instead of the other way around. Besides, Jack couldn't possibly need her to fall for him to boost his ego. She saw the way everyone in the restaurant had fawned all over him when he'd emerged from the kitchen.

She was going to enjoy his one lesson tonight, keep her distance (although she would certainly admire him from across the kitchen, how could she not?), and then she'd enjoy the rest of her weekend in Napa with her friends.

That was her new plan, and she was sticking to it.

JACK KNEW HE WAS MAKING AN ASS OF HIMSELF by drooling all over Rose, but he couldn't help it. She was a goddess. He wanted to rip her red dress off and take her on the polished bar top, crowded restaurant be damned.

He had been planning to conduct his cooking lessons in a corner of Gerard's kitchen. But now that he'd met his student, he scrapped that plan. He needed to be alone with her, so that he could convince her to ... he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he should gauge whether or not she was interested in him first. For all he knew, she might be more into the manicured, pinstriped-suit type. Which he most definitely was not. Or worse, maybe she had a boyfriend.

Fortunately, Jack had a good backup plan for where to take Rose so that he could have her all to himself to uncover her secrets. And if she was in fact single, hopefully she would be interested in exploring a whole lot more than the proper way to beat an egg with him.

''Are you ready to go back to school?"

Her smile lit up the dimly lit bar. "If you say the word 'school' one more time I might have to back out on our lesson after all. After I got my master's, I pretty much vowed that I'd never set foot again in a classroom." A master's. And that lush, round, soft body.

Brains and ass. She was his dream woman come to life. "Trust me;' he said, matching her grin with his own, "these lessons will be unlike any classroom experience you've ever had." Unless, of course, she'd let someone eat lemon meringue off her stomach in college.

He pulled her out onto the sidewalk, holding her hand a little too hard. He needed to get a grip. She was nervous about their cooking lessons. So why did he have to keep coming on to her like a teenager that couldn't wait to get inside his first pu**y?

He let off his grip the slightest bit and she asked, "Where are we going?"

He liked that breathless tone. Evidently, so did his cock. "We're filming my cooking show pilot in a building down the street. I've got everything set up for the cooking lessons;' he lied. The Chateaubriand that he'd been planning on working with was sitting in his restaurant's walk-in refrigerator.

Rose licked her lips in that sinfully nervous way of hers, and Jack itched to taste them for himself. Somehow, though, he had a feeling that Frenching her on the sidewalk within five minutes of saying hello might not be a good way to convince her to stick around for more lessons.

Not that French kisses weren't on his menu. Because they definitely were.

They veered half a block off Main Street, and Jack wanted her so badly that he practically kicked open the door to a small warehouse. He admired the round curve of Rose's hips as she walked inside, then he flipped a switch on the wall. The room lit up, illuminating an enormous kitchen set, surrounded by lights and cameras.

"Wow. Your studio is amazing;' she said, turning back to smile at him over her shoulder. "Thanks;' he said, even though he didn't care about his cooking show, or his restaurant, or anything but how long it would take to get Rose out of that red dress. Somehow, he needed to locate the suave restaurateur with a knack for putting people at ease. Otherwise, he was bound to scare her off.

He put some distance between them, hoping that sticking his head into the freezer would be the kitchen version of a cold shower. "Have a seat;' he said, gesturing to one of the red wood stools at the island. "Tell me about yourself, Rose:'