Chapter Three
Logan stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Elyse pulled the last tray from the oven. The aroma of her creations had swirled around the inn all afternoon. Just knowing she was in the house while he painted the foyer was – nice.
She had made him fresh brewed iced tea and cranberry scones. He’d had his share of women throughout the years. Many had managed to satisfy his eclectic sexual appetite but none had ever made him fresh baked goods or cooked him dinner. Most of them were either interested in his looks or his trust fund. Random women hopping in and out of his bed had never bothered him. But that was before last night, when the striking woman now standing in his kitchen had first showed up on his doorstep.
He wanted to ravish every inch of her luscious body, but that wasn’t the only thing he wanted from her. The desire to get into her mind completely over-shadowed the need to get her into his bed. That had never happened to him before.
“Hey.” She caught him staring at her. “Are you hungry?”
“You have no idea.”
She laughed.
“I mean, everything smells so good and I’m starving.” I’m an idiot.
“So you only want me for my cooking skills?” She placed two wine glasses on the kitchen table.
“I wouldn’t say that. Here, let me pour the wine.” A drink sounded good right about now. “You just – sit.”
She sat in the seat in front of the large picture window with an amazing view of the backyard behind her. The moon shone into the room illuminating her creamy skin. Her long, dark hair hung loose over her shoulders brushing the tops of her breasts each time she moved. Her shirt dipped low enough that he could see the valley between them. Images of him licking a path through that valley and down her smooth, flat stomach as he moved closer to her heat cluttered his thoughts. What does she taste like?
“Here you go.” He handed her a glass of wine trying to set aside his highly inappropriate thoughts. “I hope you like white.”
She sipped it. “It’s very good – and rare. I haven’t seen a bottle of this in years.”
“There’s a whole wine cellar in the basement. You should check it out.”
“You’re a wine enthusiast? I would have pegged you as more of a hard liquor man.”
“You would be right. My aunt and uncle enjoyed wine. They traveled to vineyards all over the country adding to their collection. If I ever get this place up and running, I could make a fortune off the stash in the basement. I’m sure people would pay big bucks for a glass of what I have in that cellar.”
“When do you think that will be?” She took his plate and served him. Her subservient side came naturally to her. He watched as she took her time making the plate look as if it had come out of a fancy restaurant.
“That looks too good to eat.”
“That’s the point.” The pride in her smile was evident. “Is there anything else I can get you? Would you like more sauce on your eggplant?”
“No, this is fine. Do you usually serve your date dinner?”
“Are you my date?” She began compiling her own meal.
“You know what I mean.” He took a forkful of risotto.
“I’m in the restaurant industry, so I aim to please; but no, you’re the first man I’ve served.”
“I like it.” Much more than you could ever realize. “This is delicious.”
“I’m glad.”
“I like you.” He sipped his drink.
“You don’t even know me.”
“You like to cook, you like to serve me. What else do I need to know?” He finished his wine and then poured himself another glass.
“You’re very charming.” She rolled her eyes. “Would you like me to kneel at your feet while you eat?”
“Would you?”
She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. He’d stunned her.
“Eat your dinner. We can discuss your submissive tendencies later.”
“I’m not submissive.”
“Hmm.” He slathered butter on a piece of homemade biscuit. “Where did you grow up?”
“New Haven.”
“I went to college there.”
“Where?”
“Yale – have you heard of it?” He teased.
“You went to Yale?”
“Does that shock you?” He laughed. “I suppose I wouldn’t believe it either.”
“My father was a professor there. He was head of the Economics department before he passed away several years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear of his passing. Were you close to him?”
“Very.”
He watched as the pain tiptoed across her eyes.