This wasn’t the way to make him stay.
She stuck out a hip. His gaze fixed on it for a heartbeat before returning to her face. She tried to control her breathing.
‘Look, I’m doing my best with your rotten recipes, aren’t I?’
‘They’re not supposed to be rotten.’
‘Then why do I keep dreaming of fish-finger burgers?
He adjusted his stance. ‘Your point being...?’
‘I’m trying to help you out, so the least you can do is sit there and watch as I try to shape this unholy mess into pretty little macarons. Give me tips where appropriate and whatnot.’
He folded his arms, lowered his gaze to her hip again. When he raised it his eyes had started to gleam. ‘I’ll do it for a boon.’
A...what?
‘A kiss.’
Something inside her softened. He smirked. She hardened it. Did he think she’d run away from the challenge? She hitched up her chin. She wasn’t in any mood to be browbeaten.
‘Done.’
A kiss on the cheek. She bit her inner cheek to stop from smiling. Simple.
‘A kiss on the lips,’ he said, as if he’d read her mind.
She could feel her eyes narrow. ‘I thought you said kissing was a bad idea?’
‘I was wrong. I want to kiss you. A lot. And for a long time. In fact I want to do more than kiss you, Jo.’
Everything inside her thrilled to his words. She should be running for the hills, but she needed steady legs for running and hers were far from steady. The temptation to follow the beat of this particular drum flooded through her. It addled her mind, but it didn’t completely scramble it.
‘Fine, then. A kiss on the lips. But no hands.’ She didn’t need even the tiniest bits of their bodies touching. ‘And not until the macarons are in the oven.’
‘Deal.’
He sat. Her heart chugged. This was craziness—absolute craziness. Why on earth did he want a kiss from a great lug like her?
‘You’re a beautiful woman.’
She didn’t believe that for a moment, but she couldn’t deny the heat that flared between them. It didn’t make sense, but it existed all the same.
She picked up a spoon.
‘Your hands are shaking.’
She gritted her teeth and handed the spoon to him. ‘Cooking makes me nervous. Show me how you dollop this mess out to make pretty little domes.’
‘You don’t dollop it. You pipe it.’
He flung open a kitchen drawer, seized a freezer bag and snipped off the end. She watched as he masterfully filled the makeshift piping bag and then proceeded to pipe a perfect row on her newly prepared cookie sheet.
‘We’ll take it in turns. You do the next row.’
His hands were steady. Hers weren’t. That had to be the reason his rows looked so much neater than hers. And even while she lectured herself to pay attention and follow his instructions precisely all she could think about was what beautiful hands he had and what an idiot she’d been to make that no-hands rule for their kiss. It would be divine to have those fingers tracing across her naked flesh.
‘They’re ready to go in the oven now.’
Her pulse fluttered up into her throat, jamming her breath and making her knees tremble. Don’t show weakness. She did what she could to force steel to her backbone. With an insouciance she was far from feeling she picked up the tray and moved towards the oven.
‘Wait.’
She wanted to scream.
Mac clicked his tongue. ‘I’d better check the oven temperature.’
It reminded her of what she’d just achieved in here. Mac had all but made those macarons himself.
He opened the oven door and put his hand inside. Apparently satisfied, he took the tray from her and placed it inside. When he turned back he wore the most satisfied smile she’d ever seen a male of the species wear.
‘Now you have to kiss me.’
She might doubt her attractiveness to the opposite sex, but there was no denying the relish in Mac’s grin. That relish gleamed from his eyes, practically spilling from his every pore. Her throat started to tighten. She couldn’t trust it. Mac was a consummate actor.
She slammed her hands to her hips. ‘You think it’s fair to blackmail a kiss from me?’
‘God, but you’re beautiful when you flare up like that.’
The shrivelling started. ‘And now I know you’re not being serious. I’ve never been beautiful and—’
‘I’ve never understood the urge some men have to bend a woman over their knee and give them six of the best...until now.’
Her eyes started from her head. Her throat thickened and she had to swallow a couple of times. ‘You wouldn’t dare!’
He leaned in close, his eyes blazing back into hers. ‘You’d better think very carefully about what you say from here on. Believe me, Jo, you don’t want to test me on this.’ His lips hooked up with self-satisfaction. ‘After all, you don’t know what boon I might demand next time.’