Heat 1 (Heat: Master Chefs #1) Read online

  Well, he wouldn’t get into my bed. There was no way I would get involved with him. He was wrong for me in every way… every single way. I had every reason not to get involved with him.

  Then why was I trying to convince myself?

  Probably, because just looking at him, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him, what it would feel like to touch him, what he would taste like if I kissed him.

  Stop it. He isn’t part of your life’s path.

  But still, the thought of his kiss, his touch… It was enough to make me weak in the knees. What nonsense. I was being silly.

  He looked up suddenly and spotted me. I’d never had anyone look at me with such intensity. I was frozen in place as he walked to me, but my brain was running a mile a minute trying to find something adequate to say. Should I apologize? Wait for him to apologize?

  “Hi,” he said, his hand outstretched to me. “I’m Bobby Cummings. I’m in my first year in fine cuisine technique.”

  I smiled and shook his hand. “Lilly Cooke, lab technician and substitute teacher.”

  “Could I bring you something to drink? Wine? A soda? Tea?”

  “Iced tea would be nice.”

  “Iced tea it is. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He left me and I followed every line of his body as he walked away. He was so sexy and alluring in that suit. So dashing. But I wasn’t the only one to notice. The head of virtually every girl in the large room turned to him as he walked on. They smiled, they pouted, they winked and they perked up their attributes, anything to win a glance from him. If he garnered them with the glance they worked so hard for, I couldn’t tell from my vantage point, but judging by their disappointed pouts, I had to say he hadn’t. Adding insult to injury, he beamed when he returned to me with a tall glass of iced tea and the girls around me huffed and groaned their discontent.

  “I’m new here.” Bobby handed me the glass. “Would you mind showing me around a bit?”

  I took the glass and took a sip as I studied him from over the rim of the glass. I barely recognized the brash young man I’d met earlier that day. He was so polite, calm… a real gentleman. Taking in a deep breath, I let my guard down and looped my arm through his. “Have you visited the courtyard yet?”

  He shook his head and I led him into the hall and out the broad doors that opened onto the magnificent garden. Other than the faint glow that spilled from the surrounding windows, a sprinkling of tiny white bulbs was the only source of light, but it was enough to impress Bobby.

  “I’m glad you brought me out here. I probably never would have ventured out here on my own. I’ve never really been the type to garden.”

  “On your own, maybe not, but in my class you certainly will. In addition to the beautiful and fragrant flowers, we also have a vast vegetable and herb garden. The use of fresh produce is so important to the success of any recipe. It lifts it up, raising it to a level that no dried herb can achieve.”

  Taking in a long whiff, Bobby followed his nose and headed to the left, took the right where the path forked and went directly to the herbs. “Ah, yes. Now this I can appreciate. Rosemary and…” He took in another whiff. “Basil. Is there anything on God’s green earth that smells better than basil?”

  “Your sense of smell is impressive.” I came up beside him, directly in front of the fragrant basil. “There’s also…”

  “Don’t tell me.” He held up a finger as he let his nose discover the various aromas. “Savory. Oregano. Sage. Um… and chives. Garlic chives to be precise.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle. He was being so charming and so adorable. He was positively irresistible when he wasn’t trying so hard to be suave.

  “I love coming out here,” I said. “You absolutely have to come during the day. The beauty of the floral forms, the brilliance of the colors and the sublime scents… it’s almost sensory overload.”

  We strolled side by side on the narrow path until we reached the rose bushes. Bobby picked up a perfect white rose that’d been cut earlier and left on the ground. “Such a beautiful flower. Why would someone throw it away?” He held it out to me. “I think it needs someone kind and loving to tend to it.”

  With a wistful smile, I accepted the rose. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? No doubt it’s someone who thought it would make for a romantic gesture.”

  “But the girl was upset with her suitor and cast his token of affection aside?”

  I pouted and twirled the stem of the rose between my thumb and index. “Could be.” The inevitable happened. Silly me. I don’t know if it was Bobby’s proximity that kept me from using better judgment, but I twirled the stem until a nice spike of a thorn cut through my thumb. “Ouch.”

  Bobby grinned, took the rose away and held up my thumb to his scrutiny. “Maybe that’s why the dreaded rose was tossed aside.”

  “So beautiful, yet with the capacity to cause such pain,” I whispered. My eyes were riveted to his, as if staring at him would extract the real Bobby, bring him to light… warn me of the potential dangers of being so close to such a man.

  I pulled my hand away before he could kiss the pain away. I couldn’t allow it. Already the touch of his hand over mine was enough to make me dizzy. What would the touch of his lips do?

  “You have to see the vegetable garden,” I said. Pulling away, I walked to the rows of cabbage. “Such a versatile vegetable, don’t you think?”

  “Cabbage? I guess.”

  “You can eat it hot in a soup, chop it coarsely and throw it in a stew, or shred it and serve it cold in a slaw.”

  “Don’t forget sauerkraut.”

  “Ah, yes. My favorite. I can’t have a hot dog without it.”

  “You eat hot dogs?”

  “Just because I work at a culinary institute doesn’t mean I eat gourmet food all the time.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. I know where you're coming from. I do love my slice of pizza every now and then, and not some asparagus, béchamel fancy thing. Real pepperoni, cheese, mushrooms… the whole deal.”

  “Speaking of asparagus, we have some growing here. Did you know it takes four years for them to go from seed to this stage?”

  “Four years? Who has four years to wait around for a vegetable to grow?”

  I laughed as we came to the zucchini plants that climbed up a trellis. A few bright yellow flowers remained, but most of them had fallen, leaving a small, growing zucchini in its place. “Did you know that the blossom is edible?”

  “Another lesson learned. You know, I’m enjoying my first lesson very much,” he said in a low tone that seemed to imply so much more.

  I stared down the row of zucchini filled trellis and tried to get a hold of the jumble of emotions churning inside me. A chill traveled up my spine, but at the same time, a ball of heat burned through my belly.

  I took a final sip of my iced-tea and tossed the plastic cup in a nearby recycling bin.

  Bobby slipped his hand over mine and let it linger there, his fingers brushing lightly along mine while he looked at me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. This is lovely.”

  “You look sad all of a sudden.”

  Did I? I shrugged. “There was a garden very much like this at the convent. Oh, it wasn’t surrounded by such austerity, and it wasn’t very high tech, but it was functional and productive. We had cabbage and tomatoes and radishes; carrots, snow peas, red peppers, green peppers, yellow peppers. We had some flowers thrown into the mix; flowers that were supposed to deter certain insects. Some cosmos, capucchinos, moonbeams. It was great. A lot of hard work, but well worth it.”

  It was the first time I’d felt so homesick since arriving in Paris, but I didn’t want that homesickness to weigh over our lovely stroll. Forcing a smile, I sniffed the cool night air and walked on. I was rattled by so many emotions, or maybe it’d simply been a long day. No, a part of me longed to go back home, but at the same time I was excited by the future the institute offered me. I’d me
t so many new and exciting people since my arrival in Paris… at the institute; people from all over the world, from all walks of life… People from a life so far removed from the sheltered life I’d known.

  And of course there was Bobby. I didn’t know what to make of him. He’d been a drunken mess when I’d first found him, but I’d still brought him to my apartment. Despite having told him I would have helped any lost tourist, I certainly wouldn’t have brought any lost tourist home with me. And I wasn’t really sure what had pushed me to bring him home with me. I guess there’d simply been nothing threatening about him; just a poor little lost boy who needed to be sheltered for the night. But then there was this morning. He’d become the brash, almost arrogant Don Juan who chased anything with boobs and a pulse. He seemed obsessed with women. And how many women had he been with?

  I closed my eyes. Truth was, I didn’t really want to know.

  I glanced sidelong at him. Not only was he my student, but he was by far one of the more handsome young men in my class, if not the entire institute. A handsome young man that every other girl in school wanted to get their hands on.

  Yet, here he was with me. I swallowed a lump of… of what? Inexplicable emotion? Uncontrollable want?

  Indescribable fear?

  Being so close to him was pure temptation, and I knew it. I also knew it was a temptation I could not afford to fall victim to.

  Chapter 5

  Before heading to the lab the next morning, I redirected myself to the institute’s Administrator. He’d left a message on my desk in my office saying he wanted to meet with me, but had said nothing about the reason for the meeting.

  I knocked on his door. “It’s Miss Cooke.”

  “Oui. Entrez.”

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Franchine.”

  He nodded. “Have a seat. I won’t keep you too long, mademoiselle. I know you have a busy day ahead of you. First I’d like to commend you on the great work you’ve done in the lab. Quite impressive. I dare say, for one so young, you have an incredible grasp of what works and what doesn’t, and more importantly, why. You’ve concocted something that has impressed everyone at the institute.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “We know you're a hard worker, but I’ll admit, we didn’t expect you to be so quick to produce something so worthy.”

  “Thank you again.”

  “I hear you’ve also taken over Monsieur Trepanier’s class until we can find a replacement.”

  “It’s an honor, really. I enjoy it.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that. For the time being I think you should concentrate on the lesson plan for this unexpected class you have to teach. As time goes on you’ll need to put more and more time into your lessons.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of that. I guess that’s true.”

  “So with that in mind, we feel you should set aside your work at the lab for now and concentrate on your class.”

  Stunned, I felt I’d been punched in the gut. “But, with all due respect, Monsieur Franchine, my work at the lab is important to me. There’s still so much I want to do… so many facets I want to explore. Just last night I had an idea for a new twist on…”

  He wasn’t even listening to me, but was shaking his head. “You’ve done enough already. The sauce you developed is being marketed to all the specialty stores in and around Paris and we’re already in the works to get it into a few key stores in Germany, Italy and Belgium. Not only will it raise funds for the institute, but it will be an incredible boost to our reputation.”

  “Not that the institute needs much of a boost. It’s already highly praised.”

  “Thank you. We do what we can. So, to get back to this semester. It might be a good idea to relax and have a good time with it. You seemed stressed last night at the meet and greet… a little stiff and awkward.”

  Really?

  “There’s nothing worse than a stressed out teacher. Take it easy and enjoy the sights.”

  “All right,” I said, though hesitantly.

  “And, on that note, I think you should also take this opportunity to get to know your students.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’d like to know how you feel about mentoring.”

  “Mentoring?”

  He nodded.

  Didn’t he just say I should take it easy and have fun? Mentoring seemed like an enormous responsibility.

  “As a young woman who has her act together as you do, I think you could bring a lot to individual students. You're easily an inspiration. Young, intelligent, accomplished.”

  If he was trying to boost my ego, he certainly was doing a great job. Another compliment and my head wouldn’t pass through the door on my way out.

  “One student in particular stood out last night,” he went on. “A good head for cuisine, though quite unconventional, a hard worker with plenty of experience in the kitchen, but… well, maybe a little personal guidance wouldn’t hurt. A little culture here, a little dinner there, maybe even a tour of the city… not your usual Tour Eiffel or Louvre, but the other side of Paris so few people know about. We wouldn’t want a student to get homesick and long to leave Paris, would we?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not.”

  “Good. Your student should be here any minute now.” He grinned.

  Oh? Had he been so sure I’d accept? Or did I not even have a choice in the matter?

  “Not to add any pressure, but you are the first mentor in our new mentorship program.”

  Great.

  “Our hope is to churn out more students along the lines of Errol King.”

  Right. No pressure there.

  A knock sounded at the door and I bolted from my chair, my entire body stiff with anticipation.

  “Relax,” Monsieur Franchine whispered. “You're not on trial. Entrez,” he called out.

  I turned and found myself face to face with Bobby Cummings’ beautiful blue eyes.

  “Hey, fancy meeting you here,” he said. “Sorry to burst in on your meeting. I just dropped in to meet my mentor, right Monsieur Franchine.”

  “Exactement.”

  After taking a moment to recover from the irony of it all, I held out my hand. “Monsieur Cummings. I believe we met in my basic science class yesterday. It will be a privilege to be your mentor.”

  His eyes popped wide open with surprise then narrowed with interest, even a bit of cunning. His gaze almost revealed the multitude of thoughts that ran through his mind, and a lot of those thoughts seemed to be of a sexual nature. “I’m looking forward to it. I think I need someone who knows the city well to show me around. Who knows what trouble I could get into if I happen to wander off to seedier parts of Paris.” He winked.

  “Well, you two seem to get along fine, so I’ll leave you to it.” He stood, his cue that we leave his office.

  Out in the hall, I turned to Bobby. “Was that just to impress Monsieur Franchine or do you really want to get to know Paris?”

  “You saw where I landed when I went out on my own. What do you think?”

  “Okay, but just to warn you; I’m your mentor, not your babysitter… and not your designated driver.”

  “Understood.” He grinned as we walked down the hall and out to head to the academic building. It was a boyish grin filled with mischievous innocence. “Looks like we’ll be going on that date after all.”

  I stopped on the steps outside and planted my hands on my hips. “No. This is not a date, not by any stretch of the imagination.”

  “Okay. I gotchagotcha. Not a date.”

  Darn it. There I was getting all rejection on him again. “I mean, this is serious. I’m your mentor. That’s a big responsibility.”

  “Sure. Then mentor away.”

  “First get to class. Mentoring will start Saturday.”

  “Why wait so long?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I do have work to do. In addition, I’d like to take a little time to research what Paris has to offer y
ou.”

  “I’m disappointed.”

  “It’ll pass.”

  He looked intently at me.

  “What?” I said.

  “I wish you’d explain the blush on your cheeks.”

  Instinctively, I brought my hands to my cheeks. “The what?”

  “You're blushing.”

  “I am not.”

  “You're totally blushing. Look at you. You're getting redder and redder.”

  “Then stop it and get to class.”

  Chapter 6

  The weekend seemed to take forever to come around. I went through the motions, teaching four classes everyday, checking on homework every night and planning the day’s lesson every morning.

  But at the back of my mind was Bobby… constantly. And seeing him in class every day added an extra degree of difficulty when it came to concentrating on cooking.

  So when Saturday morning finally came around and I met Bobby at the main entrance of his dorm, I was on edge. I didn’t want to blush again, not the embarrassing way I had when he’d mention going on a date with him, but as I headed to the entrance and saw Bobby in the distance, I felt the heat of that blush rise up to my cheeks again.

  I had to get that in check. Of course, I could fib and say I’d been out in the sun a little too long.

  But no. I couldn’t really do that.

  “Hey,” I said as I skipped up the steps.

  “Wow. Look at you.”

  Aside from that night at the meet and greet where I’d removed the white lab coat to reveal the demure midnight blue dress I’d worn, he’d only seen me in that dreaded white, straight cut coat. For our first tour of the city, I’d opted for stretchy skinny jeans that were snug without being overly skin tight, with a long hot pink shirt with a circular cut out at my back. Though the morning was cool, I’d still hopped into my comfy flip flops and I’d pulled my hair back into a relaxed ponytail.