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“It’s a two hour ride, right?” I look at my watch, it was just after five thirty, too early for dinner. “I will be when we get to Vail.”
He shuts the door and rounds the back of the SUV to the driver’s side and hops in. He’s on his phone. “Yes, two for seven thirty.” He starts the engine and we are on our way. “I’ve made reservations for dinner. If you're a foodie, you’ll love this place.”
How am I supposed to dine with this man when I can
hardly rub two brain cells together in his presence? “The hotel has a restaurant. I can get something there or order room service.” The last thing I want to be is a burden. “You have to be busy and I don’t want to monopolize your time.”
He turns toward me and raises a brow. “Are you going to be difficult?”
I squirm in my seat because he’s looking at me again. “What? No. I’m trying to be considerate.”
“Let’s outline some rules first. While you’re here, I run the show. You do as I ask or tell you. Is that clear?”
I watch his profile. He’s perfect in every way. He wields power and control like a whip, and although I’ve never been the type to submit, I want to with this man.
I lower my head. “Yes. It’s clear.”
“Tell me about yourself, Madison.” His hands grip the steering wheel with the same force he did my bottom, and I’m jealous of the steering wheel. Lord knows I’m not his type, but for that one moment when I was on top of him and his hands were on me, everything in the world was right.
What I won’t tell him is that I’ve been acting like a stalker looking at every picture of him on the Internet for the last week. He’s a regular celebrity in Vail. The bad boy who can’t be caught is how one article describes him. Every weekend he’s got some model or movie star hugging onto his arm, and here I am fantasizing about him. He’s a man I’ll never have. That’s why I’m single at twenty-five and a virgin. Mom says I set my standards too high. I disagree. My only prerequisite is a pulse. Without one there’s nothing to work with. I also want them to want me for me, not my money or position. That was the problem with Anthony Bale. He wanted my trust fund more than me.
He clears his throat. “Did you hear me?”
I shake my head to clear the image of his hands all over my body and the past hurts to my heart. “Yes. There’s not much to tell.” There isn’t, really. What do I say, I’m a trust fund baby, and I’m bored? No, I’m definitely not going there.
“Start with what brings you here to Vail for a cooking class.”
“It was a gift. Someone felt I could use a distraction.” That isn’t a lie. Malcolm directed me to eat pastries and look at Ripley all day. He is sure to be a distraction. “It’s a dream come true. I have a passion for pastries.” I pull my jacket across my lap to hide the evidence of my sweet tooth. A few feathers float through the air.
“This is an advanced class. Do you have any baking experience?”
I think back to the cupcakes I baked in high school. “Yes.” I’m an overachiever, so there’s no way I’ll fall behind in class even if I have to hire myself a tutor.
“Good. There are four others in this class. It’s easier when the skill levels are close.”
My stomach twists and turns until I feel sick. I’m not a chef. I can beat an egg, and I make a pretty good butter-cream icing, but that’s the extent of my baking experience. Obviously, tonight I’ll be spending a good deal of time on my Kindle reading about the basics of baking.
“Tell me about you.”
“I’m a chef. I was trained in Paris. I moved to Colorado from New York because I love blue skies and white snow.”
I look out the window at the mountains ahead of us. The peaks are white and sun drops a hint of orange across the range. It’s like a painting, and I wish could capture this sunset and put it on canvas.
“I’ve never been here.” I travel the world. I’ve been to every tropical island known to man. I’ve dined with notables and volunteered in Africa, but sitting in this car with this man will no doubt be the highlight of my life. Pretty sad that my life can be summed up in a few words—twenty-five-year-old virgin with no prospects.
“You’re going to love it. I’ll make sure you do.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, and I can’t take my eyes off them. I wonder what they would feel like pressed against mine. Kissing is one thing I have plenty of experience in, everything else, not so much.
“I’m excited.” That is an understatement. My underwear is wet and my insides coil with need. Change of plans tonight. I have to take care of the ache between my thighs first, and then I can read about baking. Or, maybe if I pull out a Julia Child cookbook and stare at her picture long enough it will kill any desire I have left inside me. That seems to be the way to go. Julia Child it is. I look back to Ripley to get my fill.
“I love the small class atmosphere. It gives me time for one-on-ones with each student.”
The way he says ‘one-on-one’ makes my skin heat. It brings thoughts to my head that have no place being there. Ripley and me in the kitchen. Ripley and me by the mixer. Ripley and me against the refrigerator. Ripley and me on the counter. Focus. “So it’s it like a private lesson?” I hope he didn’t hear the want in my voice.
“Yes, I guess those moments are. It’s just you and I in a room with four strangers. Sounds kinky, but maybe that’s your thing.” He gives me a quick glance as if gauging my reaction.
Of course my face heats, and I’m pretty sure it’s blotchy and red. “No, I mean… I have no idea. Oh hellcats. What I mean is…” Flustered I look out the window at the trees passing by. We’ve gone from miles of flatlands to a mountain road without me even noticing the change in scenery, all because I can’t take my eyes off him. “I don’t know what I mean.”
“Hellcats? How old are you?”
