Recipe for Love (Entangled Select Suspense) (15 page)

“Yes.” She held up her hand covered in a plastic bag. “Not the easiest thing to do with this.”

“You didn’t get the bandage wet, did you? Let me see.” He pulled the tape from around her wrist, then eased the bag from her hand. “It seems to be dry. I’ll change that for you later on.”

“Thanks.” She touched the palm of her hand. “It doesn’t hurt as much this mornin’. Itchy maybe, but no real pain.” A yawn crowded out her words. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night.” She pulled the towel from her head and ran her hand through her damp curls. “And for your information, I’m too short to look through the peephole without dragging a chair over here to stand on.” She shuffled into the living area of the suite. The couch complained with a little
wumph
as she plopped down into the cushions. “What brings you here, besides some unexplainable need to harass me first thing in the morning? I thought we had a breakfast date for eight a.m. You’re a little early. I haven’t even had a cup of coffee.”

“You don’t have coffee,” he scoffed. “It’s coffee flavored stuff.”

“See, see, there you go.” She waggled her finger at him and narrowed her eyes. “You can’t help yourself. This may come as a shock, but you don’t own me or employ me. I’m not even sure we’re friends.”

The last dregs of panic and irritation evaporated. His heartbeat slowed, but he couldn’t block out the different scenarios forming in his mind. What if she
had
opened the door to the wrong person? “Oh, we’ve gone beyond friends. Way beyond.” There, he’d said it, or almost said it. He didn’t want to rush things by saying the
L
word.

“Have we? I won’t lie. It would be so easy to go to bed with you, and Lord knows it’s been a long time, but that’s not enough.”

“It’s a start.”

“Why would I want to be around a man whose goal in life is to make me look like an idiot?” She looked at him with a hint of the Mona Lisa smile that drove him crazy. “Sarah suggested I take a baseball bat to you.”

He was taken aback. “That’s harsh.”

“She’s a calls-’em-like-she-sees-’em kinda gal.” She tucked the large robe around her legs. Everything was neatly covered except those damn daisies. She pulled a pillow into her lap and plucked at the fringe. He recognized it as a little cue to her emotional barometer. The way a slight furrow formed between her brows when she was thinking, the tilt of a smile at the corners of her mouth, or how she caught her lip between her teeth when worried. Her fingers worked the fringe back and forth. Tangling it, then smoothing it back into shape. She used the fringe as a touchstone to focus her thoughts.

He didn’t say anything. He wanted her to tell him what was going on behind her anxious blue eyes. He sat beside her on the couch and waited.

“I’m confused.” She sighed and threw the pillow aside. “I don’t know what to think when I’m around you.” Her startling blue eyes scanned his face. “Aren’t you goin’ to raise that eyebrow of yours?”

“No.” He glanced down at her. “I’m sorry I came on too strong just now.” Relief flooded him. She hadn’t pulled away or outright rejected him. He reached for her hand and entwined her fingers with his “Tilly, you aggravate the hell out of me.”

“What!” This time she tried to yank her hand from his, but he held on tight.

“You always have, and I suspect you always will, but the more I get to know you, the more I want to be with you.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the top of her hand. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Her cheeks pinked, her eyelids fluttered. “I—ah—I…” Her mink brown lashes hid her eyes from his questing gaze.

Damn it. He knew he’d pushed once too often. She’d rejected him.

“I didn’t come here to harass you.” He let go of her hand and stood. “I’ll leave.”

Chapter Thirteen

His words hit her with the force of Uncle Sugar’s baseball bat. She didn’t know which emotion was first and foremost—elation or pure, unadulterated fear. “What?” Had she heard right?

“I said I’ll leave.” He gave her a tight smile and walked in the direction of the door, head down, hands thrust in the pockets of his hoodie.

“No, no, no.” She dashed across the room in time to prevent his exit. She had to be sure she heard him correctly. Her heart skipped, her breathing hitched. “I want to hear it again. What did you say—before the ‘I’m leavin’ part?”

He frowned and cocked his head to one side with a puzzled look.

“You said I aggravate you…” She motioned for him to think back. “And…”

“You do. I never know what to expect.” His eyes widened. “Oh, you mean the ‘I’m falling in love with you’ part?” Somewhere she’d tumbled, along with Alice, down the rabbit hole. Nothing made sense, up was down, and she half expected to see the Mad Hatter sipping tea at the suite’s dining table. Had he said what she thought he’d said?

“That’s the one.” Her eyes must’ve shown the moment when his words finally registered. “You mean it?” She placed her hand over her heart to keep the poor fluttering thing inside her body.

“Yes. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He took her by the shoulders, holding her close as if afraid she might bolt. “I don’t do the hearts and flowers thing.” His whispered warning stirred through her hair. “I’ve spent my adult life running my restaurants with little time for relationships. I’m good at casual dating, but the ladies I date know the score.” He cupped her face in his hands. Her heart turned over at the hint of worry in his dark eyes. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this. It’s too soon. Besides, hearts and flowers are overrated.” She placed her hand on his chest. The steady rhythm under her palm sped up. “I’ve been sweet-talked by the best. All it got me was pregnant and thrown out on my own at fifteen. Then a con artist fleeced me blind.” She twined her arms around his neck and rose on her tiptoes. “Why don’t we take this one day at a time? I don’t trust the words.”

She brushed her lips against his in a soft caress. The affect was immediate and delicious. His body jumped to life against hers, hard and ready, prompting her to deepen the kiss. He’d awakened a hunger in her, one that had never been filled before. Now she feasted on his mouth without stopping. All the long years of doing without this heart-shattering desire imploded until nothing remained except a hot knot of need. Even Jake’s bad-boy charm paled next to Jordan’s tutelage.

His hand reached down to the tie on her robe. It opened to his seeking hands with one small pull.

His hand skated over the curve of her hip and upward, while the other caressed the sensitive nape of her neck. She couldn’t hold back her mewl of pleasure as Jordan’s hands slid down to stroke her breast. His tongue twined and danced within the heat of her mouth before his kiss softened, his touch gentled. He smoothed the robe from her shoulders. It fell in a soft white pool at her feet. He eased away to look at her.

Her nipples hardened under his intense gaze, but old insecurities rose up like quicksand to drown her pleasure. “I’ve had a baby. I’m not as—”

He placed a finger on her lips. “Matilda, you’re beautiful. Peaches and cream just like I’d imagined.” His hand trailed over the slope of her breasts. His head bent down to take a nipple in his mouth.

She gasped at the intimacy of his kiss, need coiling deep within her body as his lips left sparks of desire in their wake. “Jordan—”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Shit.” His terse expletive echoed her sentiment.

“Oh, oh.” She grabbed up her robe and winced when her bandaged hand snagged on the inside of the sleeve. Heat scorched her face. “Just a moment,” she called as she wrestled her robe into submission.

“Let me help you.” He pulled the lapels together and tied the belt. Another knock.

“It’s Tyler.”

“Son of a bitch.” Jordan glared at the door. “Son of a bitch.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and took her mouth in a hard kiss. The hormonal overload numbed her brain.

“Go into the bathroom. Please,” she begged. The last thing she wanted was the two men knocking heads.

“Why?” Jordan’s eyes sparked with irritation. “I’m not hiding. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Do it for me. Hmmm?” She gave him a little shove in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll get rid of him.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Tough. I want to talk to him alone.” She closed the door on a glowering Jordan. “Tyler?” She raced to the door and frantically finger-combed her hair into order. Her cheeks still felt on fire.

“Yes,” he answered. “Are you all right?”

“Er—ah—fine. Just peachy.” That was a bald-faced lie. Her body still hummed from Jordan’s touch. Her lips felt swollen and tasted of his kiss. Could Tyler tell?

She plastered on a smile and opened the door. He stood there with a coffee caddy holding two cups of coffee, a smaller cup with a lid, and a white bakery bag.

“Good morning. I thought I’d bring breakfast. I hope you like doughnuts. Kansas City is famous for Lamar’s. You can’t go home until you’ve had one.” His dimpled smile grew dim. “I know it’s early, but I wanted to talk to you. There’s been a new development in the case.” Gray eyes narrowed as he took in her flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called first.”

“You’re right—I mean—I wasn’t expectin’ company so early in the mornin’.” She smoothed down the front of her robe, her eyes darting away from his scrutiny. “I’m not even dressed.”

“I can see that.”

“I had a restless night so I took a hot shower. Very invigoratin’.” She hoped that would explain her red face and rattled composure. She gave him a bright smile and closed the door just a bit to let him know she didn’t plan on inviting him in. “Why don’t you go to the lobby and wait while I get dressed. We’ll have those doughnuts—downstairs.”

“Are you sure everything is all right?” He scanned the room with cold, analytical precision. “You seem distracted.”

“Tyler—” She didn’t have to stumble over an explanation. To her horror, Jordan sauntered up to her and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Perfect timing.” He leaned forward to take the bag from Tyler’s hand. “I thought the whole cops and doughnuts thing was just a stereotype.”

“The KCPD takes our doughnuts very seriously, Kelly.”

She shook off Jordan’s arm. “Play nice.” If they started up again, she’d throw both of them out, even if Jordan had left her body humming and unfulfilled.

“Busted.” Tyler’s tight smile said he hadn’t missed Jordan’s little display of possessiveness. He held out the coffee to her. “Light, no sugar. I got some more of the little half and half containers just in case it’s not right.”

“Thanks.” She took the caddy and placed it on the end table by the couch. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I don’t remember making any breakfast plans with you.” Jordan glanced over at her. “Did we?” He opened the bag, dipping in his hand and pulling out a glazed doughnut.

The sugary, sweet scent of the icing, along with the heady aroma of yeast dough made her stomach pitch and roll. “We didn’t.” She decided the wrong person hid in the bathroom. “I need to get changed.” She plucked at the front of her robe. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Jordan took a bite of doughnut. His eyes widened in surprise as he licked his lips and swallowed. “These are outstanding.” He pushed half of the remaining doughnut into his mouth and made a little moan of ecstasy as he chewed. “Ooo godda haff ond uf deebs.” He held out the bag and gave it a shake in Tilly’s direction. The doughnut muffled his words, but she understood what he meant.

The last thing she wanted was a doughnut. A good escape route, but not a doughnut.

She held up her hand to ward off his attempt to get her to eat the deep fried pastry. “No thanks. Be right back.” She grabbed the clothes she’d laid out on the bed before Jordan showed up and ran into the bathroom. Her face burned with embarrassment. She sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat and prayed for a nice, black hole to open up and engulf her whole. Sometimes the answer to prayer is ‘no’. A big fat ‘NO.’

…

Jordan put the bag of doughnuts on the table by the coffee and dusted the sugar off his hands. “This is awkward.” No matter how nice he’d planned to be, he felt himself morphing into a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal the minute Jericho knocked on the door. Once again, gut-deep jealousy twisted him into knots. He’d never felt this way about Gemma, or any of the other women he dated, but he had flipped a switch in his psyche the moment she swore off cocktail weenies.

“A bit.” The guy jammed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His cold, penetrating stare made Jordan’s jaw jump with a nervous tic. “You went out of your way to embarrass the lady.”

He hated the flash of heat warming his face. “You’re right. Absolutely right. Matilda is a lady, but she’s a gargantuan pain in the ass.” He thumped his chest with one hand and remembered he’d seen something similar in a special about gorillas on Animal Planet. He chuckled. “But she’s my pain in the ass.” Memories rushed at him with the speed of a runaway semi. “You know, I disliked her the moment I met her. Our take on food is a complete one-eighty from each other. I have awards, degrees, and recognition from the highest culinary institutions in the country, but that little twerp has beaten the pants off me every time we go head to head.” He paced the floor and raked his hands through his hair. He wasn’t about to tell the detective that she’d become as important to him as his next breath, but he could make sure the guy knew to leave her alone. “Things change. They
have
changed.”

“I won’t lie and say I’m okay with this. She can tell me what she wants, when she wants it.”

The bathroom door opened and she came out dressed in jeans and a light blue sweater. Jordan’s eyes went to her breasts for a quick check. Shit, still braless. That would have to be taken care of ASAP. He didn’t want the guy getting any more ideas about her. The ones he already had were bad enough.

He took a quick peek at her feet. Brown and blue striped socks now covered the daisies. Just as well. No telling what those daisies would do to whet the detective’s appetite.

It didn’t stop the guy from checking her out from head to toe.

She hadn’t bothered with makeup. Not that she needed it. Soft brown lashes accented her eyes and her complexion was flawless, except for a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. Jordan’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jericho’s appreciative smile.

It was time to bring the detective back to planet Earth. “You said something about a new development.”

His gaze swung away from her and back to Jordan. “The email turned out to be a dead end. It was all bogus, exactly like you thought it would be. Green’s email was spoofed, and it was made to look as if it had originated from Olivia’s computer. There’s one little problem with that scenario—she dropped off her computer for repairs Saturday, right before the competition. The killer didn’t know that.”

“He’s startin’ to make mistakes.” Tilly hugged herself and rubbed her upper arm with her good hand as if to ward off a chill. “I knew she didn’t do it.”

“I have to agree with Tilly.” He wrapped his arm around her, this time to comfort instead of stake a claim. She leaned into him. “Someone is framing Olivia Vargas.”

“What? You believe me now?” She looked up at him, surprise in her glorious blue eyes. “Why did you change your mind? I mean, weren’t you all—the evidence says she’s guilty—case closed.”

She didn’t pull any punches. Her words gave him the same dull ache in the pit of his stomach that he had after he’d witnessed Olivia on the news. He’d been so sure of the woman’s guilt. ““The more I think about things, the less cut-and-dried it is.” He frowned. “She was arrested early this morning for Bolzano’s murder. It was on the news.”

She looked at the detective. Concern and a touch of anger clouded her face. “Is that true?”

“Yes.” Jericho didn’t flinch at the accusation in her voice. “The police have the murder weapon. Her fingerprints and blood were found on the chef knife. The lab did a rush job on the DNA, courtesy of The Culinary Channel. It was expensive as hell, but they got the results back in less than six hours. The genetic material on the knife belonged to both victims and Vargas.”

“She cut her hand during the competition on Friday night.” Jordan frowned as he thought over the sequence of events. “Tom’s out. He injured his hand before Friday night but he doesn’t have any new cuts. Besides, his blood wasn’t on the murder weapon.”

“That means my theory about the murderer havin’ a cut on their hand was wrong.” Her shoulders slumped with disappointment. “I was so sure that had to be it.”

He gave her a quick squeeze of encouragement. “It means everyone else is still a suspect.”

“The killer is still out there.” Her whispered words said what they all knew, deep down.

“It still looks bad for her.” Jericho motioned to one of the green and white striped chairs. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“No, not at all.” She glanced up at Jordan to see if he had any objections.

He gave in with a sigh. “Sure, why not.” He pulled out a chair at the small dining table for her. Jericho sat opposite him.

She picked up her coffee, took a sip, and nodded in approval. “Good, it’s still warm.” She sat and took another drink before rolling the disposable cup back and forth between her fingers. “What else could go wrong for that poor woman?”

Jordan sat beside her and took her good hand in his. “I think you ought to know why I changed my mind. A lot of little things that didn’t add up.” He glanced up at the detective. “I turned on the news this morning because I couldn’t stop thinking about the murder. There she was, being led out of the police car and into jail. She swore her innocence on her children’s lives.”

Tilly’s other hand went to her mouth to cover her wobbling lips. Tears shimmered. “Oh no. That just breaks my heart.” A red flush stained her cheeks and her face looked as if she were in pain. “I know I should have said something earlier. It was wrong to hold back information from you, Tyler. I think I tried to tell you on the phone while I was in the emergency room, but I was so out of it.”