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Authors: Sophie Renwick

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that she was in her office, surrounded by her employees, heading a major marketing meeting. In that

sphere, she ruled.

So it was phase one first; then she could move on to the much more exciting phase. That particular part

of her plan included Bryce in her bed, doing all sorts of wicked, and probably illegal, things to her. But

that couldn’t happen before she properly showed Bryce that there was more to Jenna McCabe than

what met the eye.

As much as she wanted Bryce for a birthday gift, Jenna knew it wasn’t going to happen. At least not this

year. One night of sex, while it would be mind-blowing, no doubt, wasn’t what she was after.

With a deep breath, Jenna smoothed her slacks and turned to the side, scrutinizing her profile. She

looked good. Although a few more bread sticks, and her little tummy bulge would become a balloon.

She loved bread, and Bryce knew that. He also knew she loved pasta, so naturally he planned on serving

it tonight.

When Bryce was serving up favorites, he was plotting. And when he was plotting, he was usually being

very bad. Smiling into the mirror, Jenna brushed a few strands of hair away from her eye. One day she

was going to be just as bad as Bryce. One day, they were going to be badtogether .

With her game face on, she left the bathroom, fully prepared to launch Project Bad Boy!

Two

“This,”Bryce fumed, slapping down the notepad, “is not going to work.”

“Oooh, stuffed mushroom caps,” Jenna squealed as Tyson set a small plate of hors d’oeuvres before her.

“Jenna,” Bryce warned.

“What isn’t going to work, Bryce?” she asked innocently before spearing a mushroom with her fork.

Jenna smothered a loud groan as she tasted the first bite. Bryce made the best lobster-stuffed mushroom

caps the world had ever seen. “God, they’re good,” she whispered, letting out a little moan as she bit into

another one. “What’s the secret ingredient that makes these so addicting?”

“Don’t think to change the subject with flattery. And it’s my fingers, by the way. I mix the filling and

assemble it with my hands. Makes the lobster retain its buttery texture.”

Jenna allowed her gaze to drop down to Bryce’s elegant, artistic fingers. She imagined what those

beautiful, skillful hands could do to a woman’s body. Jenna could hardly bear the thought.

Schooling her libidoand her appetite, Jenna reached for the white file folder she kept in her bag. “When

was the last time you’ve had a rundown of your demographics?”

“The last time I had a book signing. Two hundred women, most with sniffling toddlers. I wound up with a

cold for a month.”

“You don’t have to kiss the kids, you know.”

“What else am I supposed to do when I’m presented with them in my face? To do anything else would

be a slap in the face to these women. Besides, it was the dead of January and some of them had waited

outside in the cold for more than two hours.”

And he’d demanded that the bookstore open early and let them inside, or he would leave, refusing to

sign. But Bryce wouldn’t want her knowing that. He wanted to maintain his cool hauteur. He didn’t want

anyone to know he might have a soft spot or a vulnerable chink in his masculine armor.

Changing the direction of her thoughts, Jenna opened the file folder. “I have your stats for the past six

months. Your highest rated show was the one entitled ‘Simply Seduction.’ ”

He shrugged. “That was a fun show. I had good audience participation. There were lots of laughs, but the

recipes were hardly over-the-top.”

“Yes, but why was it different? It was just an ordinary Wednesday episode ofHeating It Up .”

“I don’t know why it was such a hit. The recipes were easy enough, and the ingredients were nothing at

all too exotic.”

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“That’s it. The recipes were special but you didn’t have to scour five specialty shops to get the

ingredients. The local supermarket would have them all. That honeyed-fig recipe, the one where you

serve them in pomegranate bowls? It’s the number-one downloaded recipe from your Web site. And the

reason? Because it’s seductive and sophisticated, yet prepared in under ten minutes.”

He grinned, his eyes flashing. “I love that recipe. And the added bonus is it’s sexy as hell to watch

someone eat it—especially if you’re feeding it to her.”

Jenna’s mouth went dry. For a second she just stared at the man across the table, wishing she had the

courage to climb on top of the table and hand-feed him a honeyed fig.

Not yet. Phase one first, then on to feeding each other.

“You see, that’s why you’re so popular with a specific demographic. The stats don’t lie, Bryce.

Eighty-five percent of your viewers are under the age of thirty-five. Ninety percent of those are married

with families.”

“And the other fifteen percent?”

“Everyone else.”

He groaned and shoved his plate away. “I never intended to dominate the market in married females.”

“I know you didn’t, but your brand of cuisine is what they’re looking for. Sophisticated for dinner parties

and office get-togethers, yet easy and simple after dealing with the kids and work. That’s what women

need when they come home from work, or when they’ve spent the day elbow-deep in laundry and sticky

handprints. Whether you want it or not, that seems to be your market. Now, if you want to go

upscale—”

“You mean pretentious.”

“Cuisine for aficionados.”

“You mean, artsy crap that everyone oohs and ahhs over before stopping off at McDonald’s for a Big

Mac combo because the one-ounce piece of meat and two strings of green beans didn’t cut it.”

Jenna laughed. Bryce viewed things so much the way she did. She wondered if he even realized it.

“I won’t change the way I cook, and I especially won’t do it in order to please a group of self-important,

puffed-up foodies. Haute couture and haute cuisine aren’t me. I like jeans and T-shirts and full-bodied

meals. The kind that make you feel satisfied, just like sex. In fact, the natural progression after eating one

of my meals should be the bedroom. Lovemaking is a simple extension of the food. Or at least, in my

mind, it should be.”

Jenna’s mouth was watering. So were other parts, she realized. Crossing her legs, she pressed her thighs

together, trying to stop the vibrations in her clitoris, but the action only heightened it.

Business. Think business.

“Food for me has always been like having great sex. It should excite you and then fill you with peace

after it’s done. That’s why you won’t be finding two carrots and tofu surprise on my plates.”

Food for me has always been like having great sex.Jenna hung on to the words, suspended by an image

of being fed by Bryce. She imagined sharing a meal together like lovers, sitting side by side in an intimate

booth. With Bryce, and a couple of glasses of excellent Chianti, she might be prevailed upon to really let

loose and sit on his lap and make love to him in a celebration of food and steamy sex.

“Jenna?”

Shaking her head, she cleared the image of a naked Bryce feeding her something totally sinful. “See,

that’s why these women love you, Bryce. You tell them that cooking isn’t a chore—it’s a way to express

love. And when the show has ended, these women feelsatisfied . They feel as though you understand

your love of food is tied up with loving them. That’s the whole allure of you and your cooking.”

He blinked, and Jenna blushed. She didn’t mean to get so personal, but it was the truth. The women

loved Bryce like men adored Nigella Lawson. Nigella was voluptuous, and she usually made little

moaning sounds as she licked her fingers free of icing. The men ate her up and asked for seconds; even

men who didn’t know how to turn on an oven watched Nigella Lawson. It was a sexual, sensual

experience. And it was the same for the women who adored Bryce. He was manly, sexy, and he spoke

about food with an unabashed adoration. He never made low-fat this or fat-free that. He gave women

permission to cook what they wanted and eat what they wanted. He made it known that a man wanted

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to share a meal with a woman like he wanted to share his body with her. A woman who loved good food

loved good sex.

To Bryce, food and passion were symbiotic. And because of his views, and his virile, masculine

earthiness, he was adored. But that cutting remark—the one the magazine had twisted around—had

made his fans feel betrayed.

As if he read her mind, he sat back and studied her. “I get it now,” he muttered. “These women . . . my

fans,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with the word. “They feel like I’m a fraud, saying one thing and

doing another. I always talk about how wonderful it is for a man to come home to a house full of

succulent aromas, made by the woman he loves, and it’s true. But now they think I was just feeding them

a line.”

Jenna nodded and put down her file, wondering if Bryce had ever wanted that, to come home to a

woman he loved cooking him dinner. God, she wanted to be that woman he came home to.

“This plan is going to help your fans see the real you, but it isn’t going to happen overnight, Bryce. You

have to be patient.”

“I don’t have time—”

“Like I said, if you’re looking for instant relief for your present circumstances, then you can think about

going more upscale. That part of society will adore you. Speaking as your PR and marketing adviser, it

would be a windfall for you. You’re young, rich and good-looking. All things that will make people want

to get to know you. And the fact that there’s a bit of scandal surrounding you won’t hurt you, either.

There’s nothing celebrities love more than gossip about someone other than themselves. Your food, once

they give you a chance, will speak for itself. That route is a win-win situation.”

“And the other?” he asked, glancing up at her through his thick mocha-colored lashes.

“The other one is a bit riskier. It’s a population that doesn’t easily overlook being taken in and duped.

You’ll have to prove yourself, and it’ll be a long row to hoe. It just depends on what you want.”

He nodded and sat back in the booth, casting a glance at her marketing plan. “Frankly, I’m not looking

for this thing to go away over time. I want it gonenow . I’ve got some new projects in the works, and I

can’t afford any financial insecurity. I can’t afford time or uncertainty. To be honest, I’ll do whatever it

takes to make certain it doesn’t happen, and the quicker and quieter, the better.”

Jenna tried to hide her disappointment. The Bryce she knew would have told her flat out, no way. But

maybe the man she had known had changed into this creature the tabloids loved to tattle about. Maybe

he really was going to take the easy way and sell himself out for something he didn’t want or believe in.

“Where are you going?” he asked, watching her pack up her bag.

“I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning. A new client. I have to be up early, and I have notes to go over

before bed tonight.”

“Hey, Jenna, you can’t bail now. I’m bringing out the main course,” Tyson said behind her. “Spaghetti

carbonara with prosciutto and freshly grated Parmesan cheese.”

She smiled and passed him her half-eaten plate of mushroom caps.

“What, no good?” Tyson asked, glancing down at the plate. “I thought these were your favorites.”

“Yeah, they are,” she said, catching a glance at Bryce’s dour expression. “Stomach’s just a bit off

tonight.”

“Oh?” Tyson asked, looking at his brother.

“Yeah, but I’ll be fine. Oh, and about the other day, when you called me.” She saw Bryce sit up. His

expression turned from dour to incredulous. “I do have an opening. I just need a list of your credentials.”

“Oh, ah,” Tyson colored. “You mean like—”

“Jobs,” Bryce snapped. “You know, those things where you work and get paid for doing it.”

Tyson shot his brother a lethal glare. “Shut up, Bryce.” Then he turned his attention to her. “Truth is, Jen,

I don’t have much in the way of experience.”

“Sure you do, Tyson. You’ve got a mountain of experience traveling the world and seeing the sights.

Spending your trust fund’s a full-time vocation for you.”

It was Jenna’s turn to glare at Bryce. “Don’t worry about it, Tyson. Why don’t you swing by tomorrow

night after I’m done with work, and we’ll talk about it? You remember how to get to my place?”

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“Sure do.” Tyson brightened. “I owe you, Jenna. Waiting tables doesn’t turn my crank, if you know what

I mean. Besides, the boss is a bit of dick.”

Jenna bit back her grin. “Hey, it’s the least I can do, especially since that client you directed to me took

me on as head of their marketing campaign.”

“Good deal. Hey, what about I pick you up and we go out for a bite to eat. You like Moroccan? I know

this great place near your apartment.”

“It’s a date.” Jenna picked up her bag and gazed down at Bryce, who couldn’t have looked more

shocked than if an alien spaceship had landed in the middle of his dining room. A perverse sense of glee

slid over her. Maybe, he actually cared. Maybe he was . . . jealous?

“So, are you two done arranging your date?” Bryce asked irritably. “I’d like to remind you both that

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