The Spellbinder Read Free Page B

being very slow.”
    “Sorry. I’ll try to do better.” He looked up. “In my job I don’t get much practice at cooking.”
    “That’s no excuse. In my job I don’t either.”
    Another flash of burning irritation surprised him as a vividly obscene picture flashed through his mind. What the devil was wrong with him? She was a high-priced hooker who was obviously content with her profession. Why should he care who she slept with after she left him tonight? “Maybe you have an affinity for it,” he said curtly, pushing the cutting board away. “I don’t think I’m hungry after all. You eat the quiche when you’ve finished and then run along.”
    She turned to face him, her expression clouding. “What did I do wrong? I was enjoying myself, and I thought you were too. I thought we were being very … companionable.”
    He felt a flicker of remorse. It wasn’t her fault he was being pricked by these weird emotions. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And we were being very companionable.”
    “Then what …?” She trailed off, looking at him pensively. “I know what it is. You didn’t like it that I criticized you.” Her expression softened. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I had no idea you wereso sensitive. I will be careful not to do it again. You will stay?”
    He was having trouble tearing his gaze away from her pleading face. It was getting out of hand. He couldn’t remember ever responding to a woman on the multitude of levels he was to Sacha. Surprise, amusement, tenderness, and the burning possessiveness that had been bothering him whenever he thought of Sacha in bed with another man. Jealousy. Talk about dog in the manger. He couldn’t desire this big-eyed street urchin.
    Or could he? His body’s arousal testified that he most definitely did want her, and the idea began to intrigue him. She was certainly different, and his reaction to her had been … unusual. Bedding her would undoubtedly be a change of pace and might lessen his boredom as well as that damn tension. He would have to think about it.
    He sat back down and picked up the paring knife. “I’ll stay.” He smiled mockingly. “As long as you remember what a delicate, sensitive person I am behind this hard facade. Just like Donald Duck.”
    She looked a little uncertain before she nodded briskly. “I’ll remember.” She turned away. “And now I’ll tell you all about Epcot, which will cause you to gnash your teeth with envy.”
    “When I was a little girl, I always wanted to go to an amusement park but I never—” Sachaglanced up from her plate, her fork poised in midair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
    “Like what?” Brody asked, leaning back in his chair and gazing at her innocently. “I was just thinking that you bake an excellent quiche.”
    She made a face. “And you were thinking, ‘what a chatterbox she is’. I’ve talked your ear off for the last hour, and I’ve scarcely let you eat a bite. No wonder you look so hungry.” She pointed to the half-eaten quiche on his plate. “
Mangez.
I will be still as a mouse.”
    “Mickey Mouse?”
    She shook her head. “He talks too much. Maybe the mouse that ran up the clock.”
    “You’re well versed in your nursery rhymes.”
    “I used to tell them to the other children at the—” She broke off. “If I’m the mouse, then the way you are looking at me is definitely feline. What are you thinking?”
    He considered telling her that he had been imagining her lying naked on her back on the king-size bed down the hall, her thighs thrown open as he moved between them. He’d been having similar erotic visions all through the meal and found himself enjoying the anticipation of the act to come almost as much as he usually did the climax with any other woman. He decided he would stretch his anticipation just a little longer before he took Sacha to bed.
    Besides, there was no hurry. He was enjoying their dinner on another level. Her conversation had been both