Undercover Lovers

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This book is an original
publication of the four authors who authored the stories herein
contained.

This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of
the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is
entirely coincidental.

“
Undercover Lovers”
Published by Christine Bell at Smashwords.

“
Consumed” by Dee Carney
copyright © 2011 by Dee Carney.

“
Conned” by Chloe Cole
copyright ©  2011 by Christine Bell.

“
Conquered” by Cari Quinn
copyright ©  2011 by Carolynn Harrigan.

“
Convicted” by Dee Tenorio
copyright ©  2011 by Darlene Tenorio.

Cover Art by Laideebug
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www.laideebugdigital.com

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.

To Christine, Cari and Dee
T. Twitter has never been livelier than during the creation of this
project. You ladies are awesome.

For the first time in almost
fourteen years as a chef, August Jaeger forgot the name of the dish
he was serving. Christ, it was his design, his creation, yet the
honey brown eyes staring up at him seized the words right off the
tip of his tongue. “F-for your p-pleasure, Madame,” he stuttered
instead.

With practiced elegance, he
deposited the tray on the intimate table set for two and designed
for close conversation. On any other night he despised the forced
duty of making rounds among the patrons, but tonight he’d stopped
next to heaven in heels.

He studied her face, amazed
at his immediate reaction to her. In a crowd, she might not have
stood out, especially if she’d worn a t-shirt and jeans. But
tonight, she’d come attired in a black wrap dress that clung to
every curve of her ample body.

August loved curves on a
woman.

And he’d noticed
hers.

“
Oh! You’re…”

“
August Jaeger at your
service, Madame.” He tilted his chin toward the tray. “A
complimentary
amouse-bouche
?”

Even in the dim candlelight,
he saw the deep flush on rounded cheeks. “Thank you, Aug…mist…Chef.
I would have never expected this at all. You. At my table! I mean,
you’re like a rock star and really good looking and wow, I cannot
believe I just said that out loud and somebody shut me up now,
please.” Surprisingly slender fingers reached for nearby stemware.
“I need a drink,” she mumbled.

August found himself
enthralled and a rush of boldness traveled through him. Someone had
removed the other place setting, so it looked like she was dining
alone. “Would it be impolite to ask if I may join you?”

“
Now?” she
squeaked.

While biting the inside of
his cheek to keep from laughing, he raised his hand, two fingers
extended, not bothering to check if anyone noticed his summons.
Every server on duty and every person at the hostess station
followed his movement when he came into the dining room. He wasn’t
the only one who despised his presence there.

“
If you wouldn’t mind the
company.” She’d better not mind. He wanted to drink her in with his
eyes until full. “Madame,” he added after a pause.

“
Saffron.”

“
Pardon?”

“
My name is Saffron Burton.
So, Saffron, please.”

He gave her an indulgent
incline of his head. “Saffron…so unusual. So pretty.” The way the
word rolled off his tongue made his mouth water. “You must call me
August.”

Please. He wanted to hear
her say his name. Not just as part of everyday conversation, but in
a throaty, breathy, on the verge of an orgasmic scream kind of
way.

Why the hell he felt like
this for a woman he’d only first seen minutes ago, he couldn’t say,
but he had no plans on pursuing the question.

“
Chef?” Vicky, one of his
best servers—and one of the more tolerable ones—sidled up to the
table, pen and pad in hand. He actually liked her.

“
Please bring the bottle of
whatever Miss Burton is drinking to the table. Also, ask Edmond to
prepare two servings of the artichoke and arugula salad. He’ll also
want to prepare the
zuppa di fungi
selvaggia
.” He did a quick assessment of
Saffron’s eyes, noticing the keen interest. “Followed by the duck
and fig risotto.”

“
But Chef—”

He didn’t break stride in
his speech, not caring in the least whether or not she took notes.
She’d get it right, he had no doubts. His sous chef, second in
command of the kitchen, would work as hard to make certain August’s
needs were met. “Lastly, the Meyer lemon, three ways, for dessert.
And make sure Allen matches each course with an appropriate
vintage. Thank you, Vicky.” The sommelier hadn’t had a chance to
taste most of what August had just ordered, but he’d get his job
right or lose it.

“
Chef.” He couldn’t mistake
the warning note in her voice. “If I may have a word with you,
please. Madame, if you would please excuse the chef?”

Close to grinding his teeth
in frustration, August waited for Saffron’s wide-eyed nod before
sliding out of the booth. He and Vicky hadn’t taken more than four
steps before he directed her into a corner. “Make it fast.” His
gaze remained on the seated woman. If she left for any reason, it
wouldn’t happen without him interrupting her for at least a phone
number.

“
Do you know who that
is?”

For a split second he
allowed his gaze to drop to the server, but he couldn’t help
looking toward the woman who waited for him. The step he took
toward Vicky wasn’t meant to be threatening, but it certainly went
well into invading her personal space. “The woman? No. Do
you?”

Vicky folded her arms over
her chest, putting a little distance between them. “Well, we’re
not
for sure, for sure
, but a couple of the girls think she might be from Brun’s
place.”

He whipped his head toward
her. “Motherfucker,” he gritted out between clenched
teeth.

Vicky snorted. “More like
spy. Like I said, we don’t know for certain, but it kind of fits.
You know he’s supposed to be sending someone over here to check out
what you’re serving for Restaurant Week.”

There were a few dishes he’d
created specifically for Denver’s most popular food event,
happening only a few weeks away. It had become well known that his
restaurant often served the dishes as a surprise one unannounced
night each week leading up to the event.

Tonight happened to be one
of those nights.

Just because he didn’t
formally announce the news, however, didn’t mean someone from the
staff might not have let it slip. There were supply orders to be
placed, instructions to be given to the line staff and myriad other
reasons why the news might get out. It was a recipe, not U.S.
nuclear missile launch codes.

If his biggest rival,
Francis Brun, wanted to know what August was serving in order to
create something similar or in direct competition to the dish, it
wouldn’t be beneath him to send someone to scope out the key
ingredients. Everyone in this town took their food very,
very
seriously.

“
So what do you want to do?”
Vicky inquired.

He took a minute to think it
over. “Place the order I requested.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wow.
Really? Even as packed as we are?”

“
Tell Edmond he has seven
minutes for the salads to be sitting on that table.” Now that he
knew who he was dealing with, this wouldn’t be difficult at all to
manage. He’d bag one restaurant spy without breaking stride. “Thank
you, Vicky.”

“
It’s your ass,” she
muttered as she walked away.

Returning to the table, he
changed his mind, figuring Vicky had to be wrong. Shit. He hoped
she was wrong. Look at those pretty brown eyes watching his
approach. They didn’t belong to someone who’d sneak secrets back to
Brun.

Saffron smiled as he sat.
“I’ll admit the last thing I expected was to be dining with
you.”

“
It’s not an experience I
provide often,” August replied.
Ever
was more like it. “But in this case, I felt an
exception was warranted.” He pushed forward the tray, which held
four Japanese spoons of delicacies. “I only ask that you indulge me
a bit.”

“
Indulge you?” Her gaze
snapped up from the appetizer tray to meet his.

“
If you would, please. Allow
me the honor of feeding you.”

That blush. So damned
sexy.

August leaned forward and
picked up one of the spoons. The shaved slices of scallop
intermingled with his own blend of roasted peppers and then topped
with savory and papaya had been stacked with painstaking care. “A
sip of your wine and then open.”

His mouth didn’t know how to
behave. One minute it watered, but now, watching her swallow
Chardonnay, it went dry. August licked his lips, trying to help it
out and then offered Saffron the spoon. “Now open,” he said
gently.

He couldn’t stop himself
from drooling when her plump lips opened. Couldn’t shake the
hardening of his cock when a pink tongue extended. Blood pounded in
his ears as she closed her mouth around the ceramic. And fuck, when
she made that little delightful sound in the back of her throat, he
almost ground his teeth into powder.

Eyes closed, Saffron chewed
slowly. Her eyebrows drew together in concentration and August
found himself imagining the explosion of tastes greeting her. “Oh
my, that’s good,” she said after a pause.

“
Sip the wine again.” Why
did he sound almost breathless?

A quick sip and she made
that noise again. The one that made every muscle in his body
tighten with anticipation.

“
August, I’m about to
embarrass myself with pleasure here.
That
is a true masterpiece. And it’s
just the
amouse-bouche
? I cannot wait to see what’s next on the menu.”

“
Good.” A smile curved his
lips before he realized what in hell he was doing.

She was the enemy. A spy.
Sent here to make his world-class cuisine as commonplace as one of
the fast food places down the road.
Maybe
. Time would only tell. In the
meanwhile, he’d remain cautious.

If he wanted to remain a few
steps ahead of Francis, his biggest rival, instead of showing off
with some of the dishes he’d been working on during his day off, he
needed to send her packing. Oh, but damn, why did she have to pick
up a second spoon and take another delicate bite?

He had to see her expression
brighten with unadulterated joy again.
Had
to.
He even found himself leaning forward
just to catch even the softest purr of approval. Breath held, he
waited until he heard it before exhaling again.