Cooking Up A Seduction Read online

  Praise for Jenna Bayley-Burke’s

  Cooking Up A Seduction

  An intense and steamy romance that will have you on the edge of your seat!

  Coffee Time Romance

  Jenna Bayley-Burke has written a real winner.

  Book Reporter

  A hot and sensual romance full of the flavor of love – a little spicy, a little sweet, and very fulfilling… Witty dialogue and sizzling love scenes are skillfully woven into the book, each one full of emotion and purpose.

  Romance Divas

  Absolutely delicious and delectable, full of passion, romance and humor. I felt like I was in the middle of catering chaos. It’s a wonderful story and I sincerely enjoyed every moment of Lauren and Cameron’s journey in finding each other.

  Pink Heart Society Reviews

  Cooking Up

  A Seduction

  Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Cooking Up a Seduction

  Love never tasted so sweet…

  Sexy venture capitalist Cameron Price takes the helm of the Seattle branch of the firm to prove he has what it takes to lead the entire company. Unfortunately, his boss thinks what it takes for a workaholic like Cam is a wife!

  To fend off the matrimonally inclined, Cameron has to think fast. Inspired by the dazzling green eyes of the gorgeous caterer, he proposes the kind of innovative arrangement he’s known for. If Lauren Brody will spend a few weeks on his arm networking at events, she’ll be able to raise the profile of Come For Dinner catering and book more clients than she ever dreamed.

  But Lauren has a plan of her own and tempts Cameron to play along. She convinces Mr. Buttoned-Up-Tight they can have some serious fun on his piano, in his kitchen, and behind closed doors. But it’s dangerous to keep a lid on something so hot. And a relationship was never on Cameron’s agenda…

  WARNING :: Indulge at your own risk! Cravings for exotic fruit, decadent delights, erotic fashion & steaming hot nights of pleasure have been reported.

  Cooking Up A Seduction

  by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Copyright © 2014 by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  First Publication © 2006 by Jenna Bayley-Burke as Cooking Up A Storm

  Cover art by Novel Graphic Designs.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9900084-4-6

  Kindle Edition

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, organizations or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote brief excerpts in a review.

  First print publication:: Mills & Boon 2006

  Reprint of revised edition by Jenna Bayley-Burke :: 2014

  For Jeff, who always keeps an open mind about my culinary creations.

  Table of Contents

  Reviews

  Title Page

  About Cooking Up a Seduction

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  From the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Come For Dinner Catering

  Discover more from Jenna

  Just One Spark

  Caribbean Casanova

  Romance Rekindled

  About Jenna

  Hello my lovelies,

  I am so excited to be able to bring this story to my fans. This is the second novel I published, but the publisher only released it in a few countries – none of which I’ve been to. So many of you have asked about these books and now I can share them with you.

  Cameron and Lauren are two of my favorite characters. The guy just needs a hug, and I want to take her out for a drink. She’d be hilarious! I love the way she talks, her voice came across so strong for me I wound up wishing I could be as clever. Maybe someday.

  Love,

  Jenna Bayley-Burke

  One

  The gunmetal gray sky outside his office window mocked him. Cameron Price reminded himself the Internet claimed it rained more in New York than here in Seattle, but that little tidbit hadn’t kept the leaden sky from unloading its fury each time he stepped outside.

  He needed to like it here. Maybe it would help if he focused on the positive. In the summer it would be beautiful, but he had to get through November without going mad. And the coffee tasted better, though he couldn’t decipher the way people ordered it. Driving a great car and living in a big house helped. But the car was a gas-guzzler and the house as white and cold as a hospital.

  He grunted in frustration and sat up straighter in the leather desk chair. The party tonight had him riled, and he needed to get over it. He’d driven into the city, to get a vision of his new workplace in its Saturday relaxed attitude. Everyone expected him to show up on Monday, but he wanted to get an idea of the inner workings before he started meeting people at the party tonight.

  When he’d arrived, technicians had been setting up the computer and phone in his office. Cameron had toured the building on previous trips to Seattle for meetings, so he knew the layout well enough to find his office. This had allowed him not to look completely out of place standing outside the door, covertly listening as two of his executives had instructed the tech people on the set-up.

  From the irritated tone of their voices he knew he had his work cut out for him. The challenge relieved him; he’d been so worried the smaller branch of the venture capital firm wouldn’t give him enough opportunities to prove to the board he could steer the ship.

  He’d entered the office with a smile and greeted the two men as if they hadn’t been talking behind his back. Cameron was proud of his reputation of efficiency, even if it did mean some people called him ruthless. He made money for the firm and their investors, and that was the bottom line.

  They had spoken to him with thinly veiled curiosity, wanting to know his plans for the firm. Of course he told them nothing, partly to seem mysterious and authoritative, and partly because he wasn’t sure yet just what this promotion entailed, and how much control he’d be allowed to wield. After a brief conversation about the weather, Cameron had ushered them all out of his new office, knowing he’d see them later tonight at Bob Anders’s house.

  Scratch that, his house. He had to start thinking of himself as living here, instead of just stepping in and filling the boss’s shoes on the left coast.

  When Anders had confessed he hoped to retire in three years, and was looking to Cameron to take over as CEO when he did, Cameron never expected the honor to include a stint running the West Coast office. A native New Yorker, he’d never expected to live anywhere but the East Coast. But he wanted to helm the most influential venture capital firm in the country like he wanted his next breath, so he nodded and smiled, and took the next plane out.

  Two days later, he struggled to adjust to a new town, new house, and new job. He knew he’d made the right decision, the only decision to make his career aspirations happen. He needed to get his bearings and figure out how everything worked. This fish-out-of-water, out-of-control feeling didn’t sit well with him, and he needed to be rid of it
quickly.

  “The view is better when the mountain is out.”

  Cameron swiveled in his chair to face the door, seeing his mentor and boss, Bob Anders, framed in the doorway. He smiled at the barrel-chested older man. “The mountain comes in and out?”

  “From the clouds.” Bob nodded his bald head and entered the room, closing the door behind him. “You’ll see. I had to learn to like New York; you’ll learn to like Seattle.”

  “I will, if I can borrow your decoder ring.” Cameron pushed his dark hair back and said a small prayer of thanks his hairline showed no signs of receding. “I ordered coffee this morning, and the guy rolled his eyes at me.”

  “Try ordering a half-caf tall skinny mocha with a shot of sugar free vanilla hold the foam back in New York. You get exactly the same response.” Bob settled into a leather wingback chair opposite the desk and crossed one beefy leg against the other. “You’ll need to lose the umbrella.” He thumbed back towards the door where Cameron’s coat and umbrella hung on hooks. “It screams tourist.”

  “It’s raining, Bob.”

  “Get used to it, Cam.”

  The both laughed. “Anything else I should know from someone who grew up here? You owe me. I’ve showed you the best hot dogs, pastrami and bagels New York has to offer.”

  “That you did. Let’s see: never complain about the rain; learn coffee-speak; and enjoy the outdoors.”

  “In the rain?” Cameron’s lip curled in a smirk.

  “I warned you about that.” Bob shook his head and returned the grin. “Everything ready for the party tonight?”

  “Should be.” Bob’s wife Sonja had given him the number and said she’d used the company whenever they had to entertain in town.

  “You’ll be doing a lot of this, you know. Entertaining clients, investors, and staff. It’s an important part of the leadership role here.”

  “You mentioned that.” And little else.

  “It’s a lot for one person to take on. That’s why Sonja has been so assertive on the wife issue.”

  Cameron straightened his shoulders. Not this again. “I don’t see how that makes any difference. I can hire people to cater and clean, I don’t need—”

  Bob held up his hand. “You’ll see. Listen to Sonja on this one. Besides, she’s good at this. We’re not talking about finding you some trophy wife. You need a capable, intelligent partner who can handle everything and make your life easier. You have too much to do running this branch of the company and managing your own funds to keep getting tied up with domestic details. I’ll be here Monday for the introductory meeting, and you can always reach me by phone, but I don’t expect to have much to do with this office.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Cam, I’m not as young as I used to be. Ferrying back and forth between both coasts is just too much. And it put a lot of pressure on you to run the New York office. This way, I’ll be able to give one hundred percent to New York and not worry about the funds managed here. You have complete authority over the goings on here. Neither I, nor the board, will second-guess your decisions. And in a few years, I’ll be able to retire. You can choose which office to run the firm from.”

  “I appreciate the confidence you have in me.”

  Bob waved his hand through the air and stood. “There is no better place for you to develop the new alternative energy fund. I stopped in today to make sure things were set up for you, but you’ve already done that. One step ahead of me, just like in New York.”

  Cameron stood and followed Bob to the door.

  “You should probably head out to the house. Traffic can be murder.”

  “Are you sure you and Sonja wouldn’t be happier at the house than in a hotel? It’s not like there isn’t room. And you have lived there off and on for a while now.”

  “Sonja prefers the hotel, closer to shopping and less traffic. Besides, it’s your home now.”

  With a nod Bob left, leaving Cameron alone in the near empty office. He saw it as if for the first time. The room was a virtual copy of his New York office. Standard mahogany desk and bookshelf, leather desk chair and two wingbacks, small round table and three chairs in the corner. Even the same model telephone. And just like in New York, nothing adorned the walls. He hadn’t thought it odd until he’d gone to pack up his office last week, and left with little more than a document box.

  He shook his head and shrugged into his coat, picking up the umbrella. Did people here really not use an umbrella when it rained? He made his way out of the offices with a minimum of head nods, thankful the sky spared him as he stepped across the parking lot to the cherry-red Corvette.

  Like the house, the car had been Anders’. A car Cameron never would have chosen for himself, but he did find the purr of the engine exciting as he pulled into traffic. The roar of the open road beckoned him, but instead he got bumper-to-bumper traffic and much too much time to think about the song and dance he’d have to put on at tonight’s dinner party.

  He didn’t enjoy the fakeness behind charm and chatter sure to come from tonight’s party, employees trying to say what they wanted to hear in order to get on his good side. He preferred honest opinions to groveling. He dreaded the schmoozing, but relished the opportunity to prove to the executives at the Seattle branch of Anders & Norton that he was indeed the man for the job.

  Turning up Debussy louder, he let his mind wander to a place he rarely went. So often numbers and facts filled his brain. But this sound system had amazing acoustics for such a small car. The piano suite vibrated through him, so loud and melodious it was almost like he was playing himself.

  He’d played twice a day since he arrived. The piano room at the house was a bright light in this whole scheme. He smiled as the music took over, feeling the notes in his fingers and seeing them in Technicolor in his mind. After Debussy came Chopin and softer colors, almost relaxing him. Until he took the exit off the cramped freeway and steered towards suburbia and the house he’d live in for the duration of his time in Seattle.

  Cameron drew in a deep breath and clutched the steering wheel tighter as he waited for the garage door to rise. Trying not to think about the hour he’d wasted in traffic, his gaze avoided the digital clock on the dashboard and instead took in the outside of the house. The front of the house was as gray as the Seattle sky, again threatening a cold November rain.

  The mock-Tudor McMansion struck him as wasteful and pretentious. And yet, all of the people attending the party tonight would think he approved of the way the upward lights at the base of the house washed the walls in color and illuminated the landscaping. In reality, he thought it wasteful of energy and hated contributing to the growing light pollution epidemic.

  Pulling into the garage, Cameron killed the engine and sighed in resignation. Tonight, the top twenty executives at Anders & Norton would convene on this house to find his weaknesses and exploit them. He’d have to find theirs first.

  Never in the history of time did there exist more perfect raspberries. And in the middle of November, no less. As perfect as she needed this party to be, her first for Cameron Price. She knew nothing about the elusive venture capitalist, except he’d left a message instructing her to duplicate the last party she’d catered here at the Anders’s house. Last summer, when raspberries were ripe and plentiful.

  Lauren Brody tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ears and popped a raspberry in her mouth, instantly remembering why she preferred her fruit in season. The sweet tartness she expected turned out to be more tart than sweet. She swallowed the bitter pill and took a deep breath, the warm scents of toasting potatoes and roasting garlic warming her troubled mind. She smoothed her palms against her white button down blouse and black slacks, the professional look of the uniform comforting her.

  This party would be perfect, she’d see to that. She always did. Come For Dinner catering was known for creating perfect dinner parties for business executives in their homes. That’s how she avoided the wedding and engagement party c
ircuit. She shuddered at the thought of having to deal with stressed-out brides every day.

  It was much better to work in elegant kitchens like the one in the Anders’ home. Well, Cameron Price’s home now she assumed, since the party served to announce his ascension to managing partner, and running the Seattle office of the venture-capital firm. That’s all she’d been able to get out of his assistant. She couldn’t get a hold of the man himself to find out if there were any food allergies or special diets she needed to account for, what his personal tastes were. And still, with so little to go on, she had to create his perfect coming-out party.

  Lauren dropped one basket of raspberries into a tall pitcher and covered them with ice-cold vodka. She swirled the mixture and inhaled nothing but the crisp scent of pure alcohol. Not good. She turned and plastered on her most pitiful expression.

  “Tell me you brought it.” Lauren stuck her lower lip out for good measure. Her chef, Diego Vargas, had been dead set against replicating the raspberry menu.

  Diego turned from his chilled avocado soup and shook his dark head at her. “It’s in the green cloth bag. We’ll need to line the rest of them up on a sheet pan and spritz them with simple syrup, then let it dry.”

  “You are a culinary god, and I bow at your greatness.” Lauren gave her best curtsey and scampered past Ricky to get to her salvation. A bottle of Chambord, sure to put enough raspberry kick in her pitcher of raspberry martinis. She spun back around to find Ricky had already spread the remaining raspberries, more than enough for the salad and desert, on a sheet pan per Diego’s instructions.

  A smile lifted her cheeks as she took in the scene. The granite countertops glistened and pale hardwood floors shone from the cleaning that always began the party process. The maple cabinets had a built-in wine rack, but it was empty. Lauren wasn’t sure if that meant Price had just moved in, or abstained from alcohol. She prayed it wasn’t the latter. She didn’t do virgin cocktails.