Page 5 of Recipe for Love (The Andrades 0.5)
She stepped forward and her jaw dropped open. “You’re Alyson’s brother?”
“You were expecting someone else?”
“No, I just thought you’d be—” She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she gave him one more appreciative once-over, then blushed. “Shorter,” she finished, then blushed again.
Appreciative looks from a woman were something he normally enjoyed, but hers lit a fire within him so intense that it shook him. The lamp behind her illuminated her gown in such a way that it became mostly transparent, and his heart began to beat double time in his chest. Her long brown curls ended just short of the tips of her beautiful breasts, which were now quite visible to him. Small and pert, just as he liked them. He forced himself to raise his focus to her face and reeled beneath a second punch of attraction when their eyes met.
Those eyes—mon Dieu, how they completed the package: dark and rich like a fine chocolate and flashing with temper. She was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And probably the most dangerous. Women like her knew how to use their beauty to manipulate.
In what was likely a false show of modesty, she looked down at herself, gasped, and hastily wrapped herself in the comforter. She looked up at him from beneath her long lashes and said, “I’m sorry I screamed, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Really? He doubted that. “I’d think a woman like you would be used to waking up in a great many unusual places.” The words burst from him angrily before he could consider what he was saying.
Pink spread up her neck and cheeks. She hugged the blanket tighter around her. “Well, that’s rude and uncalled for. Your sister said you were fine with me staying here. If that’s not the case, all you have to do is say so.” She turned away from him, then spun back and advanced a few steps. “But who are you to judge me, anyway? Even if I’ve slept with a hundred men—or half of France for that matter—how would that affect you? All you know is that I needed a place to stay and your sister brought me here. I could be running from the most horrific experience, in which case you’d be demeaning an already tormented woman. Which one of us should be ashamed?”
Her passionate speech sent flames of desire through him. Right, wrong, guilty, or innocent: He no longer cared. He didn’t want to be attracted to her, but he was. He closed the distance between them and leaned down until his lips almost touched hers, testing. Her lips parted and her hot breath mixed with his. He knew he should tell her to leave. He didn’t want or need a woman like her in his life. But his thoughts remained unspoken, and the air between them sizzled with sexual tension unlike anything he’d ever felt before. “What’s your name?”
Seemingly as mesmerized by him as he was by her, she murmured, “Madison. My friends call me Maddy.”
He rolled her name over his tongue. “Madison. No last name?” Insane as it felt, he wanted—no, needed—to know more about her. He needed to test the attraction between them, pull her to him, see her eyes light with a fire just for him. He was a passionate man and one who was not ashamed of his fondness for women. Most women. Not ones who collected men like some collect shoes, discarding them when they came across something better.
He knew better than to get involved with a woman like that.
But he couldn’t step away.
She met his eyes, looking like she wanted to give herself to him, even as she denied him with her words. “Not one that you need to know. Especially since it looks like I’ll be leaving tonight.”
He ran a finger lightly down one side of her neck, tracing the wild pulse there. “You don’t have to. I may be able to help you.”
“Really?” she asked breathlessly.
He gave her a lusty grin. “Yes. If your goal is to claim that you’ve slept with all of France, who am I to stand in your way?”
Her cheeks reddened and she raised an impulsive hand toward his face. He caught it easily and simply held it to one side. He was toying with her, and they both knew it. Her temper excited him. Was she as impulsive in bed? He was sorely tempted to find out. “Why so angry? I’m no longer judging you. In fact, I applaud your—enthusiasm.”
“You’re a real jerk,” she said, attempting—but failing—to pull her hand free from his.
“I’ve been called worse—tonight, in fact.”
“Let go of my hand.”
He brought it to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist before releasing it. “You intrigue me. Outraged virgin or high-paid whore? You’d have me believe that you’re fearful and on the run from someone, yet you claim my home with the arrogance of someone who is used to getting what she wants. I tell myself it doesn’t matter, but I’ve always enjoyed a good puzzle.” He tugged on the sides of her large wrap and pulled her forward, flush against him. “I’ve never liked being given a recipe. I prefer to taste the food, let it fill my senses, and discover each ingredient myself. Then and only then is it mine to experiment with.” He brought his lips down close to hers again and flicked his tongue over her bottom lip in invitation. “Let me taste you, Madison. I promise, I will make sure your pleasure surpasses my own.”
She put a hand on his chest as if to push him away, but it merely rested between them over his wildly beating heart, while shook her head as if trying to clear it. “I may have given you the wrong impression.”
Following his instincts, he licked the exposed curve of her neck and felt her shudder with pleasure against him. Desire for her swept away the last of his resolve. He was a man who believed in following his passions. And tonight, there was only this one woman and his need for her. “I don’t care about why you’re here. All I care about is this.” He claimed her mouth with all the passion building within him and loved how her tongue met his eagerly.
***
Holy Moly.
Nothing in Madison’s sexual past had prepared her for the instant attraction she’d felt when Richard had stepped out of the darkness. A few inches over six feet with a deliciously muscled body, he was definitely not what she’d been expecting. Now, moments after meeting him, she was kissing him more intimately than she’d ever kissed one of her boyfriends. His hands cupped her buttocks and held her firmly against him. She should be afraid. Throw-all-decorum-to-the-wind lust doesn’t happen outside of the movies, does it? And if it does, you should at least know the other person. So this is what happens when you wear see-through thongs.
So much for him not noticing I’m here.
Maddy’s desire surged. She arched backward to allow him access to her shoulder. Nothing mattered except the heat that was spreading through her and the need to be closer to him. He trailed kisses across her exposed collarbone and she arched even farther back, desperately wanting to feel those hot kisses farther down. Her nipples tightened and begged for his attention.
I’m not the kind of woman who has a one-night stand.
Any stand, for that matter.
Maddy shivered with desire when Richard cupped one of her breasts in his hand. His thumb caressed and teased. His breath warmed her as his mouth replaced his hand. He suckled her, his hot, wet tongue circling her. She felt the gentle tug all the way down through her stomach. Her body readied itself for him, pulsing and tingling.
How can a bad idea feel so good? Every place he touched burned for him. Every place he didn’t yearned for him. I should stop now before this gets out of control.
If it’s not already.
As if he could hear her inner debate, Richard raised his head. His eyes were ablaze with desire for her, but his voice was soft. “What is it?”
What is it not? I’ve left everything I know behind to shack up with a stranger and, instead of locking my door and seeking a way to make a dangerous choice safer, I’m seriously considering throwing my moral compass in the trash.
“I’m a virgin,” she blurted.
He gripped her by both upper arms and demanded, “A what?”
Embarrassment flooded in and she tried to pull away from him. “You heard me.”
R
ichard’s hands tightened on her arms painfully. “Are you joking?”
I wish I were.
Richard bent, lifted the blanket off the floor, and tossed it at her. He was saying something angrily in French, and for once she wished she’d paid attention to her language tutors. Although when they said I’d need the skill someday, I’m sure they never imagined this scenario. “A minute ago you didn’t care who I’d slept with. Why does it matter if I haven’t been with anyone?”
Have I lost my mind? Am I actually arguing for him to continue pawing me?
He paced in front of her, running his hands through his hair and cursing in French. She had no problem translating most of that. Some profanity is universal. He grabbed her by an arm again and swung her to face him. “I don’t sleep with virgins.”
“Fine,” she said and wanted to kick herself for sounding less and less mature with every word that came out of her mouth. She tried, unsuccessfully, to pull her arm free from him.
He stood in front of her, close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his angry glare with one of her own. “What about your lover? Did he expect something in return for supporting you? Is that why you left him?”
Still feeling a bit raw from his refusal, Maddy snapped, “This isn’t about a man.”
“So, you lied to my sister?”
Oh, yeah, that. “She assumed that was why I looked upset. I just didn’t correct her.” Because apparently lying runs in my family.
“Are you in trouble with the law?”
