Pure Iron Read Free

phoenix?”
    “I’ve not always had an easy life. I got the phoenix when I rose above some really difficult circumstances. It’s a symbol of my triumph and reminds me to be strong.”
    “Wow,” she said. “That’s really admirable. It almost makes me wish I had something so incredible to celebrate so I can immortalize it on my skin.” She gave a short laugh and added, “But what would I have tattooed? A spatula?”
    He briefly glanced at her, taking in the smooth, fair skin and said, “Your skin is perfect. There’s no need for ink.”
    Again her cheeks flushed. He wondered whether that flush extended down her chest and felt a heavy heat pool in his groin. With a surge of will, he reminded his libido that this was neither the time nor the place for an erection. This innocent young woman obviously did not do casual hook-ups. This girl had permanence written all over her.
    He could not help but wonder if she were still a virgin. She had that untouched air about her that practically beckoned for defilement.
    “So, what’s the plan after your month of R&R?” he asked.
    “I’ve got some résumés out with several restaurants, some with the big-name chefs,” she replied and shrugged. “I don’t really expect to be accepted by the big guys, though.”
    “Why not?”
    She shrugged and replied, “I’ve got the academic credentials, but not the fine restaurant experience they’re looking for. There aren’t any five-star Michelin restaurants in North Hampton, Ohio.” She chuckled and shook her head. “We’ve got a diner and a sandwich shop. The Lions Club’s annual spaghetti supper doesn’t qualify.”
    “Small town, hm?”
    “A village actually. I’d be surprised if the population topped a thousand. We don’t even have a gas station.”
    “That is small,” he agreed and wondered just what in the hell he was doing in the company of an innocent like her. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t go where the big-name chefs are.”
    She grinned at him and said, “That’s true. It doesn’t. Which is why I sent in those résumés.” She sighed and added, “I think, though, that I’d miss the living in the country. I like small towns.”
    “There’s nothing stopping you from opening a smashing restaurant in a small town, though, is there?”
    She held up her hand, rubbing the forefinger and thumb together. “That takes money that I don’t have.”
    She turned her face away from him and so did not see his expression turn glacial. But she continued talking: “I’m determined to make it on my own, though, which means working for someone else, earning a good income, and getting the experience I need before taking that big step of diving into debt and opening my own restaurant.”
    Listening to her, he detected no guile and relaxed. She wasn’t slyly trying to hit him up for a loan. Or a “gift.” She was merely being candid. It was a refreshing change of pace.
    Which expressed volumes about his life.
    They chatted about inconsequential topics ranging for the next several minutes until he pulled into the parking lot.
    “Sonia, reach into the glove box and pull out my hat, would you?”
    She cast him a confused glance, but did as he asked and handed him the baseball cap. He jammed it on his head and donned a pair of sunglasses.
    “Going incognito?” she teased.
    The expression on his face wiped the smile from hers.
    “Oh,” she said in a subdued tone. “I guess you really are going incognito.” She paused, then asked suspiciously, “Is your name really Mick?”
    Knowing the moment had to come, he nodded curtly and said, “Mick Hendriksen.”
    Her expression showed no recognition.
    “Iron Falcon.”
    Now recognition dawned.
    “Really?” she asked, eyes widening.
    He nodded. Her mouth opened in surprise, lips forming a silent “O.” Consternation followed.
    “Oh, God, I made you cook me breakfast! And you just wanted to be left alone. And now I’ve imposed upon you to take me to the