Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
R eese drew a deep, fortifying breath, then raised her hand and pressed the doorbell. As she waited for a response, her heart hammered so hard she thought it might bulldoze its way right out of her chest. Not for the first time that morning, she questioned the sanity of what she was doing. She must be crazy for coming here like this, uninvited. Maybe she should just?—
A scrape of movement inside the apartment forestalled any thoughts of escape.
Then suddenly the door opened.
Michael stood there in a sleeveless white T-shirt and black pajama bottoms, his long feet bare. His goatee looked thicker, dark stubble covered his jaw, and his eyes were heavy lidded and bleary.
He squinted down at her for a long moment, then closed his eyes as if he expected her to be gone when he reopened them.
Which, of course, she wasn’t.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.
“What time is it?” His voice was a low, husky rasp that made her stomach clench.
“It’s just, um, after nine o’clock,” she answered sheepishly.
He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes again, this time looking as if he were trying to find his center of gravity. When he reached up and scrubbed his hands over his face, his thick, muscular biceps bunched and flexed with the movement.
Reese gulped. Hard.
After another interminable moment, those dark eyes slanted open and refocused on her face. He looked so big and menacing framed in the doorway that for a moment Reese felt like a hapless camper who’d wandered too far into the forest and awakened a bear from hibernation.
“What the hell,” he growled, “are you doing here?”
Ungluing her tongue from the roof of her mouth, Reese thrust a covered cup at him. “I brought you coffee.”
He stared at the cup in her hand, making no move to take it. “Coffee,” he echoed flatly.
She nodded. “From a gourmet coffee shop near Layla’s house. It’s pretty good, though not as good as the coffee I make. Next time I’ll bring you some of mine,” she added, drawing his eyes from the cup to her face.
One heavy brow winged upward. “Next time?”
“Sure.” She smiled bravely.
His gaze roamed over her, from head to toe and slowly back up again. After another moment, he reached out and accepted the proffered cup from her hand. As their fingers brushed, heat sizzled through her veins.
They stared at each other.
Reese unconsciously licked her lips, watching his hooded eyes follow the path of her tongue. “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?” she asked, a touch breathless.
Michael hesitated, then staggered aside to open the door wider for her. As she stepped past him, her shoulder grazed the iron slabs of his chest. Her breasts tingled and her pulse drummed erratically.
Ignoring her body’s reaction to him—no easy feat—she advanced into the foyer and swept a look around. The stunning two-story penthouse featured Italian marble floors, elegant crown molding, ultramodern lighting and solid, contemporary furnishings done in masculine earth tones. Just off the main living area was a dramatic floating staircase that wound to an upper level. There were walls of nothing but windows that revealed spectacular views of Buckhead and, in the distance, downtown Atlanta.
The luxurious penthouse transcended the definition of a bachelor pad. It was a showplace—and immaculate to boot.
Reese whistled softly. “Wow. This is quite a crib. ”
Behind her, Michael grunted something unintelligible.
Smiling, she turned in time to catch him checking out her ass in her tight jeans. The hungry gleam in his eyes sent another rush of tingling heat through her body.
Pretending not to notice what he’d been doing, she grinned playfully at him. “I thought you might live in one of those McMansions that Buckhead is famous for.”
A shadow of a smile touched his lips, softening his features a little. “I don’t need all that space. I spend more time at the restaurant and my father’s house than here.”
“Which would explain why the place is spotless. You’re never home.”
“Exactly.” He raised the cup to his mouth and took a long sip. As he swallowed, his eyes closed in an expression of ecstasy that made her envy the coffee.
“Good?” There was a husky catch to her voice.
He nodded slowly. “Very.”
She cleared her throat. “I didn’t take you for one of those artsy-fartsy gourmet coffee lovers. So I just stuck with something basic. Something dark and strong.”
“You done good,” he drawled.
Reese warmed with pleasure, which made her feel like the world’s biggest idiot. “I’m sorry. It didn’t even occur to me that you might be at church this morning…or entertaining company.”
His eyes glittered with amusement. “Are you asking me if I had a date over last night?”
She shook her head quickly. “Of course not. That’s none of my business.” Yet she couldn’t suppress a stab of jealousy at the thought of him spending a long, steamy night between the legs of some faceless woman.
“You’re right. It’s none of your business.” He shuffled past her, sipping his coffee. “But since you obviously want to know?—”
“I don’t?—”
“—I was at the restaurant until six in the morning finalizing preparations for an event I’m catering next week. I was hoping to sleep in late,” he added with a sardonic glance over his shoulder.
“Oh.” Reese bit her bottom lip, feeling guilty. “Sorry.”
After less than three hours of sleep, Michael should have looked like death warmed over. Instead his bed-rumpled appearance only added to his virile sexiness. And was there anything the man didn’t look good wearing? As if his powerful biceps weren’t mouthwatering enough in that sleeveless T-shirt, now she couldn’t take her eyes off the way his pajama bottoms clung to his round, well-toned butt. She imagined digging her nails into those clenching and unclenching muscles, urging him deeper as he thrust into her. The image was so vivid, so explicitly carnal, that her clit throbbed in wanton response.
Mesmerized, she followed him into the enormous living room, more than a little disappointed when he sank down heavily on the sofa, cutting off her view of that amazing ass. Leaning his head back against the sofa, he regarded her tiredly for a moment, his lids at half mast. Like he was fighting to keep his eyes open.
Reese felt another pang of guilt. She, who’d never known the meaning of the word impulsive until she met this man, had chosen the worst possible day to act on a spontaneous urge.
“You never did answer my question,” Michael murmured.
“Which one?” Reese asked, sitting in a sumptuous brown leather chair.
“What, exactly, are you doing here?”
“I told you. I wanted to bring you coffee.” She smiled whimsically. “I’m trying to get into my new role as your apprentice.”
“Yeah?” He sounded amused. “You gonna pick up my dry-cleaning, too?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
His answering smile, the first real one he’d allowed since her arrival, made her heart lurch crazily. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he teased.
Her smile widened. “No, I guess not.”
As he raised the cup to his mouth and drank more coffee, her gaze was drawn to his left bicep, which bore a distinct horseshoe-shaped brand that identified him as an Omega Psi Phi fraternity member.
“How’d you find my address and get inside the building?”
Reese’s eyes snapped back to his face, and she grinned. “Your address was on the contract I had to sign for the show. As for getting into the building, I flirted shamelessly with the doorman, made him think I was one of your newest playthings.” She paused, arching a brow. “He must get that a lot. It was almost too easy.”
Michael shook his head, mouth twitching. “I plead the Fifth.”
Reese laughed. “I bet you do, Que-Dog. ”
He glanced down at his branded bicep, then laughed.
Moments later, when they were still smiling companionably at each other, she murmured, “See, it’s working already.”
“What is?”
“My plan.” At his wary look, she elaborated, “I came over here hoping we could reach a truce.”
“A truce,” Michael repeated slowly.
She nodded. “I thought it might be good for us to spend some time getting to know each other better so we won’t be at each other’s throats when taping begins next week. I know how important it is for us to have chemistry.”
He looked amused. “I think we’ve already established that we have chemistry. If we had any more, we’d both have to be hosed down.”
Reese blushed, her belly quivering at his words. “I’m not talking about that kind of chemistry.”
“Why not? It’s the only kind of chemistry worth talking about. If you don’t believe me, I’d be more than happy to remind you.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.
Reese laughed, even as she felt a responsive twitch between her thighs. “That won’t be necessary. Besides, just a minute ago you were swaying on your feet and could barely keep your eyes open.”
A slow, wolfish grin curved his mouth. “I’m wide awake now. Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’m all yours.”
Oh God . Reese nearly vaulted out of the chair and into his lap. She wanted him, wanted him with every cell in her body, every fiber of her being. It took a monumental act of willpower to remain seated, to resist the wicked gleam in his eyes that was pure temptation.
Sitting back and crossing her legs—to stop the vibrations in her clit and to appear composed—she tsk-tsked and wagged her finger at him. “Now, Mr. Wolf, is that any way to talk to your new apprentice?”
“Depends on what kind of apprentice you wanna be,” he drawled. “Instruction doesn’t have to be limited to the kitchen.”
Her insides clenched at the unmistakable implication. Smiling coquettishly, she purred, “Who says I need instruction—in or out of the kitchen?”
Michael stared at her for an arrested moment, his grin faltering. When she batted her eyelashes at him, he let out a low, rough chuckle and shook his head, looking slightly dazed. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”
Swallowing a grin, Reese deadpanned, “I hope not. I was just starting to like you again.”
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound so warm and infectious she couldn’t help joining in.
When their mirth had subsided, Michael set his coffee cup on a side table and rose from the sofa, no longer unsteady on his feet.
“Where are you going?” Reese asked him.
“To take a shower—a very cold one. And then I’m gonna get dressed and show you around my beautiful city.”
Her eyes widened as a wave of astonished pleasure swept through her. “Really? You’d give up your Sunday to take me sightseeing?”
“Sure, why not? You brought me coffee.”
“I can make you breakfast, too,” Reese called after him as he started from the room.
He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. He looked so surprised and touched by the offer that Reese wondered whether he’d gotten so used to cooking for others that no one ever bothered to cook for him.
“You know what?” he said softly. “I’m definitely gonna take you up on that. But can I get a rain check?”
“Of course.” She smiled shyly. “Do you want to just stop somewhere on the way out?”
“Yeah. And I know just the place.”
The Sunday jazz brunch at Wolf’s Soul was the place to be.
Locals and tourists alike flocked to the restaurant every weekend for an award-winning buffet that included everything from eggs Benedict to crawfish étouffée, along with a toe-tapping dose of live jazz music served up by the Howlin’ Good band. Kids ate free while college students and senior citizens enjoyed half-price discounts.
All proceeds from the brunch helped to fund nonprofit organizations that benefited Atlanta’s inner-city youth, who were near and dear to Michael’s heart. He mentored at-risk teens, gave them jobs at his restaurant and regularly had them in his studio audience. Two years ago his alma mater, Morehouse College, had established the Michael Wolf scholarship for economically disadvantaged students. Given Michael’s commitment to his community, it was no wonder Atlantans had proudly embraced him as their native son.
An hour after arriving at Wolf’s Soul with Michael, Reese pushed away her empty plate and sighed deeply. “That was absolutely wonderful.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Michael said, lounging across from her at a small table located on a second-story balcony overlooking Peachtree Street. Music from inside the restaurant drifted through the double French doors, a lazy blues instrumental. The morning sun hadn’t cranked up the temperature yet, so sitting outdoors was tolerable, even pleasant.
Reese sighed again. Filled with good food and nursing her second mimosa, she felt relaxed and deliciously content. She could have stayed there, with Michael, for the rest of the day.
He smiled, watching her with a look of quiet satisfaction, as he’d done throughout their meal. “Can I get you anything else?”
Reese laughed. “Are you kidding? I couldn’t eat another bite.”
His dark eyes glinted at her. “Are you sure? Our chocolate fountain is very popular.”
She groaned, rubbing her full stomach. “I’m sure it is. But if I go anywhere near it, I’m going to explode. God knows I’ve already eaten way more than I should have.” She shot him an accusing look. “I blame you.”
His expression was one of exaggerated innocence. “Me?”
“Yes, you . You’re the one who kept urging me to try this and try that. And everything sounded so good I just couldn’t resist. Like that brioche French toast, and the crab cake Benedict. And that sweet potato hash. Mmm, positively divine. Anyway,” she said pointedly, before she got off track, “after all that food we just ate, you have no business even mentioning that chocolate fountain to me. What are you—a sadist?”
Michael laughed, lazily running his finger around the rim of his champagne glass. “I like watching you eat. You take pleasure in food in a way that any chef would appreciate. There’s nothing worse than pouring your heart and soul into a meal, only to watch someone pick over it because they’re on a diet, or they don’t wanna mess up their lipstick, or they’re afraid to look greedy if they clean their plate and ask for seconds.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “You know how you women do.”
Reese grinned. “I would say you need to stop cooking for such ungrateful chicks, but I seriously doubt you’ve ever had to worry about anyone picking over food you’ve made.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Well, if I’m ever privileged enough to have you cook for me, I promise to bring a big appetite.”
Michael smiled. “And I promise to leave you satisfied.”
Reese’s mouth went dry. For a moment she just stared at him, wondering if they were talking about food or lovemaking. Either way, there was no doubt in her mind that Michael knew his way around a woman’s body the way he did a gourmet kitchen.
Holding his gaze, she reached for her glass and held it up. “A toast,” she said. “To good food.”
“And endless possibilities,” Michael added silkily, quickening her heart rate.
They clinked glasses and sipped their drinks, staring at each other like they were the only two people in the world. They might as well have been.
Though the restaurant was filled to capacity, they were the only occupants of the small balcony. Reese didn’t know whether this was by accident or design. She didn’t care. She liked having Michael to herself, though she’d certainly enjoyed watching his interactions with customers when they’d first arrived. He’d gone out of his way to greet as many people as he could, shaking hands, answering questions, hugging elderly grandmothers and coaxing smiles out of babies. Watching him in action, Reese realized that money and fame hadn’t changed him. He’d never forgotten where he came from, and his customers loved him for it.
“Coming here for breakfast was a brilliant idea,” Reese murmured.
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Michael smiled ruefully. “After the way I behaved the other night, I was afraid you’d never want to come near this place again.”
“I wasn’t planning to, believe me.” She chuckled. “I was so mad at you, I even thought about burning your cookbook.”
He shouted with laughter. “Damn, baby, that’s cold!”
Reese grinned wickedly. “Hot, you mean. As in, torched to ashes.”
Michael shook his head at her, his eyes glimmering with amusement and respect. “You are one formidable woman, Reese St. James. Remind me never to cross you again.”
She laughed, sipping her mimosa. As she crossed her legs under the table, Michael shifted at the same time. Without warning her foot collided with his firm, muscled calf, sending jolts of sensation shooting up her leg to her core.
Their gazes locked, a current of pure sexual awareness passing between them.
“So this is where you’re hiding!” boomed a deep male voice threaded with laughter.
Michael swore under his breath, staring past Reese with an expression of annoyance mingled with dread.
Curious, she glanced around and saw a man coming toward them with a cocky swagger that could only be rivaled by Michael’s. The stranger was dressed in a bespoke charcoal suit, his debonair appearance offset by the toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth.
As he reached their table, his speculative gaze took inventory of Reese’s flushed cheeks and Michael’s scowl before a knowing grin spread across his gorgeous face.
“What’s up, Wolfman?” he greeted Michael, clapping him on the back. “No wonder your waiters were being so tight-lipped about where you are. You’re up here having a hot date. And speaking of hot…” He eyed Reese with frank male interest, his full lips curving in a smile that had undoubtedly seduced more than a few women into parting with their panties. “Hello, beautiful.”
Reese couldn’t help smiling back. “Hello.”
Grudgingly Michael performed the introductions. “Reese, I’d like you to meet Quentin Reddick. Q, this is Reese St. James.”
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Reese.” Quentin held her hand a little longer than was necessary, earning a scowl from Michael.
While both men were tall, wide-shouldered and incredibly good-looking, the similarities ended there. Where Michael was dark and smoldering, Quentin had a golden complexion and piercing hazel eyes that sparkled with irrepressible mischief.
“So tell me something, Reese,” he drawled. “Where’s Mike been hiding you?”
She grinned. “Actually, he hasn’t. I’m visiting from Houston.”
“Visiting Mike?”
“Not exactly.” She paused. “I’m going to be his new apprentice on Howlin’ Good . ”
“Is that right?” Quentin slanted a knowing grin at Michael. “You sly, sly dog.”
Michael glared at him. “Don’t you have someplace else to be?”
His grin widened. “Not at the moment. I just came from church and decided to swing by my favorite restaurant to get my eat on.” He winked at Reese. “Best places to meet beautiful single women—the Lord’s house and Wolf’s Soul.”
Reese chuckled. “Good to know you’ve got your priorities straight.”
“Always.” His gaze roamed across her face. “So what do you do down there in H-Town?”
Michael rolled his eyes in exasperation. “What’s up with the interrogation, Q?”
“It’s all right.” Reese smiled at Quentin. “I’m a doctor.”
“A doctor, huh?” His expression turned downright roguish. “Maybe you can help me out with this little problem I’ve been having. See, I?—”
“She’s an ob-gyn,” Michael told him smugly.
“ She is ?” Quentin had the decency to look embarrassed. “Damn. Never mind.”
Michael and Reese laughed.
Deciding to turn the tables on Quentin, Reese asked, “So what do you do for a living?”
“Nothing as noble as what you do,” he answered, lazily dipping his hands into his pockets. “I’m just a lawyer.”
“Q is a managing partner at my brother’s law firm,” Michael elaborated.
Quentin winked at Reese. “Marcus was the only one in this town crazy enough to hire me.”
Michael chuckled dryly, shaking his head at Reese. “As much as I’d like to agree with him, he’s being modest—which is rare. The truth is, he was working at one of the biggest law firms in the country when my brother lured him away. Marcus considers Quentin a real asset to his company.”
“I’m impressed.” Reese smiled at Quentin. “Would you like to sit down?”
“No,” Michael said flatly.
“Sure,” Quentin replied at the same time.
They stared each other down. Or rather, Michael glowered while Quentin looked unabashedly amused.
Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at their standoff, Reese said warmly, “Don’t mind him, Quentin. Please pull up a chair and join us.”
He did, flashing a triumphant grin at Michael as he sat right next to Reese. She decided not to read too much into Michael’s narrowed eyes and clenched jaw.
“How long have you guys known each other?” she asked, dividing a curious glance between both men.
“Mike and I go way back,” Quentin drawled, stretching out his long legs as he settled more comfortably into the chair. “We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to Morehouse together. Pledged the same fraternity.”
“Another Omega man, huh?” Reese gave him a whimsical smile. “So you’re Q the Que.”
“Yup, that’s what they called me.” A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “We called Mike the Wolfman, and not just because of his last name, either. You know that howl he does on his show, the famous howl that his fans go crazy over? Well, he’s been doing that for over twenty years. Wanna know how it got started?”
“She doesn’t need to know that,” Michael cut in brusquely.
“Oh, but I want to,” Reese countered with a grin. “I happen to really enjoy that howl, and if there’s an interesting story behind it, I’d love to hear it.”
Michael didn’t blink. “No.”
Quentin winked conspiratorially at Reese. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Like hell you will,” Michael growled, leveling a glare at his friend that promised violent retribution if Quentin defied him.
“On second thought, baby girl, it’s probably better that you don’t know.” Quentin’s grave tone belied the mischief twinkling in his hazel eyes. “I wouldn’t want to offend your feminine sensibilities.”
Reese laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“That good , you mean.” Quentin sighed nostalgically, drawing a dirty look from Michael.
Reese grinned. She could easily envision the two friends ruling campus parties along with a pack of rowdy, high-stepping frat brothers who rushed the dance floor every time “Atomic Dog” burst through the speakers. With their killer good looks and panty-melting smiles, Michael and Quentin must’ve been hella popular with the ladies. Clearly nothing had changed.
Michael looked relieved when one of his busboys appeared to clear their table and to tell him that his sous chef wanted his advice on wine pairings for tonight’s house specialty.
“Go on and handle your business,” Quentin urged, waving Michael off. “I’ll keep Reese company while you’re gone.”
“Hell, no,” Michael growled, rounding the table.
Before Reese could react, he grabbed her hand, tugged her out of the chair and dragged her downstairs with him.