Cooking Up A Seduction Page 4

  “Ricky, get the shoes. The rest of you take a load to the van. No one comes back inside for two minutes. Vamanos.” Diego sliced his hand through the air, but his gaze locked with Lauren’s, never breaking contact as the crew scurried about.

  When the door closed Lauren took a deep breath. “You did a great job running the dinner tonight. Thank you.”

  “Are you okay with what happened?”

  “Absolutely. You’ve been telling me for a year you could run a job on your own. Now that I know you can, we’ll be able to double book small parties.”

  “I mean with Price.” He leaned closer, narrowing his dark eyes. “What the hell?”

  “It’s fine, Diego.” She smiled, forcing her cheeks to look high and happy. “Seriously, it’s not what it seems.”

  “I guessed that much. So what is it?”

  “Besides being none of your business?” Lauren gave him her most impish grin, but it didn’t crack his serious façade. “Would you believe I’m going for a gold medal in the dating Olympics? Hello to commitment in less than a day?” Still nothing. Guy needed to buy a sense of humor. “Don’t worry about it. I have it under control.” As if.

  “You sure? Because if you need me to—”

  “Diego, honestly. Things are fine. I’m okay, the party went great, and two of the guests tonight said they’d call for their next event. The whole night is a big success.”

  “Including your relationship with a complete stranger?” He shook his head and tried to hide his chuckle. Didn’t work.

  “I could never be with someone who doesn’t eat. I swear, I think he had two bites all evening.” Though he didn’t hold back from the scotch and wine. The scotch had seemed to help loosen his tongue, so she’d kept his drink full.

  “Yes, a man’s appetite is always high on your list.” Diego shook his head and leaned against the spotless counter. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Lauren.”

  She held up her hand. “I have no intention of being a skid mark on his dating resume. Really, I’m fine.”

  “Okay. I have to trust you on this. But don’t do something crazy like tell Nyla and Christa. They’ll have you actually marrying him.”

  Lauren laughed so hard she snorted at the mere idea of what her best friends would say about the evening’s events. They’d both applaud her decision to play the role for the night, but how would they react to realizing the favor for a cute guy she’d agreed to was really a devious plot? Or was it? Maybe Cameron had been blindsided as well.

  Damn. She had to stop making excuses for him. He wasn’t her boyfriend, just a soon to be frequent employer on whom she had a terrible crush. She pursed her lips. That wasn’t any better.

  “Nyla would only want me to marry him to get to plan the wedding. She’s always looking for fresh meat. Like you.” Lauren winked, glad to get to goad Diego a bit.

  “Don’t start.”

  “She’s in love with you. Has been for years.”

  Diego shook his head. “She’s in love with the idea of bringing me home to her father and giving him a heart attack. I’ve told you, I’m not interested in playing her game.”

  “You might like it,” Lauren teased as the team returned.

  “You’re the one who is glutton for punishment, not me.” Diego shouldered a large box and carried it out to the van.

  “Don’t let him be too hard on you. He’s just mad he had to work tonight and you got to play.” Anne loaded her arms with canvas bags that had contained tonight’s groceries.

  Lauren laughed again, taking the sneakers Ricky offered. She sat at the kitchen table to slip them on.

  “You know honey, I think you have this Cinderella thing backwards. You’re supposed to lose a shoe and have him come looking for you. Not go barefoot and slip into running shoes so you can make a getaway.”

  “Cinderella I’ll never be.” Lauren stood and looked about the now bare kitchen. “You’re all too efficient for me to slave away.”

  “The only things left are the towels in the bathroom, and the plants, pillows and throws. Since I saw most of the guests driving away, I think it’s safe to undress the rooms now,” Ricky said, heading for the hallway. Lauren placed a hand on his arm to stall him.

  “I’ll get that. Why don’t you guys head home? You did a wonderful job tonight.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Ricky said with a grin. “She’s going to be doing the undressing herself.” He winked and Lauren tried not to laugh.

  “I’m glad I can play out your fantasies, darlin’.”

  “Not really. In mine he’d be undressing me. But since he decided to date you on sight, I think it’s safe to assume he wouldn’t be interested. At least we know he has great taste in women.”

  “Scoot, all of you.” Lauren fluttered her hands, ushering everyone out the side door.

  The last one out, Diego stopped in the doorway. “I’ll stay, if you need me to.”

  “I told you, I’m fine.” Lauren shook her head. She needed to be alone and figure out what to say to Cameron Price, not deal with lectures from her virtual big brother. “Besides, you have to take Anne home. I’ll see you all tomorrow to prep for the Nelson bridal lunch.”

  She nearly gagged as she waved goodbye to her crew. Cucumber sandwiches for thirty, and petit fours. Jeannie Nelson ordered the same menu for each of her three daughters’ bridal luncheons, even though the last two times she claimed Lauren ruined the event.

  In spite of having a wedding planner for a best friend, Lauren hated everything about weddings. The formality, the infighting, the tension. Why the world hadn’t collectively decided to elope, she didn’t know.

  With a deep sigh she closed the door and decided to rescue her plants. Remembering how stark the Anders’ home had always seemed, Lauren had brought all of the plants from her apartment to add some life to the place.

  It worked. The party tonight was livelier than any she’d ever seen here. It felt so natural, steering the group through the silly get-to-know Cameron game, and then later having everyone tell him something interesting about Seattle. Even the way she’d been able to touch him, flirt, play out an entire seduction scenario in her mind. Not that she’d be able to act it out, but still. She’d embraced the role he’d asked her to play. Embraced it, and enjoyed it.

  She’d occasionally indulged in him as a fantasy over the last two years, never thinking she’d see him again. But as soon as she had, the fizzy tingling feeling she’d felt the first time bubbled through her.

  That strange feeling had her agreeing to play his girlfriend for the evening, and relishing every moment of it. It unnerved her, how easily she slid into playing the perfect professional’s partner. She’d been bred for it, groomed by her mother to fill the role, but she’d fought it with every ounce of her being until tonight.

  Always insisting on being her own woman, the last guy she dated told her she was too independent to be successful at a relationship. And yet tonight, she’d played the part to a tee. Maybe because it was only temporary, or because she’d been able to schmooze with potential clients at the same time, but whatever it was left her feeling mighty confused.

  Quiet stillness flooded the darkened house as she walked the rooms, collecting the pots two at a time and carrying them out to her Jeep Cherokee. When she had them all snugly lined up in the cargo space, she returned to the house and looked around. She liked the room better with the ruby red chenille throws and textured crimson pillows. Maybe Cameron would want to keep them.

  Lauren let out a tired sigh and retreated to the kitchen. No telling what Cameron was waiting for. If he thought she’d leave before they had a chance to get their stories straight, he had another think coming.

  Cameron’s entire world felt fuzzy and light as he stripped off his clothes. He didn’t feel drunk, really. More loose and relaxed. Except for the breathless, anticipatory feeling that came over him whenever he thought about Lauren.

  He collapsed back onto the enormous bed and closed his eyes. He tried to
play out in his head how he’d explain the situation to Anders. They’d backed him into a corner, and he’d improvised. But when they knew the truth, would they just start in on the marriage bit again?

  He sure hoped not. Too much work needed his attention to try and have a relationship. Lauren didn’t help matters. A super-star of a woman, she’d collected the notice of every man in the room tonight. Barefoot and makeup free, no less. If the woman ever turned it on, she’d be irresistible. To him, and to every man who wanted something from him in business. Ruthless men who would be more than willing to use his weakness for her against him if he ever let it show.

  He’d carefully kept his weaknesses hidden. Hell, there were probably people back in New York who’d swear he didn’t have any. But never before had he been pressured on one side and tempted on the other. He groaned and hoped it was the alcohol making him think of Lauren as more than his caterer.

  She’d done him a favor by agreeing to masquerade as his girlfriend for the party, and after she’d played the part perfectly, he’d allowed Anders to manipulate the situation into more than it was, after he’d asked her not to tell her staff what was going on. Damn. He’d be lucky if she agreed to speak to him again.

  Still, he couldn’t recall ever having a better night. Good music, great scotch, conversation flowed without effort, and a beautiful woman on his arm all evening long. He’d been smart to make the move to Seattle. Something like this would never have happened if he’d stayed in New York.

  Stretching against the smooth white cotton of the comforter, Cameron opened his tired eyes and stared at the ceiling. He probably should eat something. He never ate much at these dinners, but usually he didn’t drink much either. Pushing up on the bed, he slid his feet to the floor and made his way downstairs.

  Painful quiet filled the rooms. So used to the bustle and background noise of New York, he found the stillness unnerving. Looking about the rooms he saw that Lauren had left the flowers and the splashes of red in the living room. Maybe she’d let him keep the decor. They certainly woke up the space.

  He trudged on to the kitchen, hoping the catering crew had left him some bread. Or maybe some cake.

  The door made no sound as he pushed it open. Stepping onto the cold tile he froze. His breath caught and he became agonizingly aware he wore nothing but his black cotton boxer briefs. Underwear that had no hope of hiding his reaction to the fiery woman with her back to him as she shimmied, cleaning something off the counter with a towel.

  Really, he should clear his throat and let her know he was there. Or run. Yes, running would be good. Straight upstairs where he could put on some clothes.

  Before he could escape she turned, her eyes widening in surprise. Maybe the celebratory toasts had more of an effect than he realized, because his anxiety vanished and he started to laugh.

  “I thought you’d gone home.” He crossed the kitchen and stood next to her at the counter. “Since you could never be in a relationship with me and all.”

  “Cameron,” she turned to face him, but from the tremble in her lips he knew she suppressed a smile. “This isn’t a joke. Playing for one night is one thing, but a relationship is another.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Anders was joking. He’s probably contracting someone to draw up our prenup right now, just to ensure every party I throw is as good as this one. You did a wonderful job.”

  “I could never marry someone who thinks marriage requires an escape hatch.”

  “What?” Cameron laughed again. She certainly had a fresh way of phrasing everything. With a smile, he started looking about the kitchen for some sign of sustenance.

  “A prenuptial agreement. I’ll never sign one, or marry someone who’s not fully committed to making a marriage work.” She stood taller, pulling her creamy shoulders back.

  “Before you get too indignant about it, I have to have one. It’s part of my employment agreement so divorces don’t affect the other partners.” He stepped closer, and then closer than he knew he should. She’d had her hands on him all evening. Had it been just for show, or could there be more to it? “But then that’s not really the issue here.”

  “What are you doing?” Her bottom lip trembled in a completely different way.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Lauren’s breath caught in her throat as she stared into his darkening blue eyes. Oh no, he was going to kiss her. And heaven help her, in spite of everything, she wanted him to. Had since before he walked into the kitchen without a shirt on. Or pants for that matter. Not that she’d allowed herself a peek south of the border.

  “Are there any leftovers?”

  Caught off guard Lauren blinked, and then shook her head. Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her. She was the one with naughty thoughts. Which had to stop right now, so she could focus on finding out what was going on.

  Stepping around him, she pulled open the refrigerator and took out the plastic containers, setting them on the counter.

  “I’m not sure if there’s anything you’re willing to eat. You certainly didn’t touch your food at dinner.”

  “That’s because I was busy working and everything required too much attention to eat without looking.”

  She leveled her gaze at him. “If you would have returned my calls, I could have planned a menu you would eat. At a get-to-know-you dinner you should serve your favorite foods.”

  “Yeah. Macaroni and cheese from a box would have been a big hit with that crowd.” He grabbed for the bag containing the eight-grain rolls and pulled one out.

  “That’s what you eat? Food from a box?” She shook her head, watching as he ripped the roll in half and shoved in a slice of the beef tenderloin.

  “Pretty much. Cereal, macaroni and cheese, frozen pizza, and Chinese take-out.”

  Poor baby. She could help him. Expand his palate. “You should try a little of the Gorgonzola sauce to moisten the bread.”

  Cameron wrinkled his straight nose and set down his impromptu sandwich. “Make it for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If you think you can do better, have at it.”

  “Fine.” Spinning around, she grabbed one of the ridiculous butter knives from the drawer, then turned back to prepare the best damned sandwich Cameron Price had ever had. Eight grain roll, gorgonzola sauce, spinach leaves and marinated onions from the salad. “What would you like me to serve at the next dinner? I don’t want to serve another meal you push around the plate.”

  He chomped into the roll. His head tilted to the side as he chewed and pondered the question. “I don’t like anything I have to slice or look at too closely. Simple, so the focus is the meeting and not the food.”

  He had to be kidding. “You want me to make food no one will notice.”

  “Exactly. Potatoes are okay. But not those.” He pointed at the plastic container with the roasted potatoes. “They have rosemary on them, so people will worry about getting it in their teeth.”

  “I could never be with someone who thinks food should be invisible and tasteless.”

  “Do you want to be with me, Lauren?” Cameron reached around her, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Is that why you’re making a list of ways I’d have to change?” He drained the bottle, his Adam’s apple undulating with every heavy second. He set down the empty bottle and his lip curled in a grin. “Well?”

  “I’m just saying,” Lauren took a deep breath, trying to sound light and nonchalant. “People who know me would never believe I’d be with someone who refused to eat what I prepare.”

  “But does it matter? If I’m going to explain everything anyway?” He tilted his head to the side. Earlier his hair had been perfectly combed, but now it flopped onto his forehead, accenting his heavy lidded eyes. Bedroom eyes, really.

  “Here’s the thing.” She pasted on a smile, wishing she weren’t deeply distracted by his nearly naked body. “I think we should break up.”

  He laughed so hard he fell against the counter, the muscles of h
is toned stomach rippling as he hunched over.

  “Cameron! I’m serious here.” To keep from looking at him Lauren shoved the leftovers back into the refrigerator and slammed the door.

  “I could never break up with a woman I’m only pretending to see.”

  “I don’t want people to know we lied. I cater for these people. I don’t need them looking down their noses at me for playing this game with you. So, I think instead of coming clean, we should break up.”

  His sculpted shoulders rose and fell. He might eat like crap, but he certainly took good care of the rest of himself. “You may have a point there. Actually, I could use that.” He rubbed his finger and thumb against his jaw. “We could go two ways with this. Either I work too much and ignore you, or you work too much and I need someone more dedicated to me.”

  More dedicated, indeed. “Let’s have you ignore me.”

  “Impossible.” He grinned and stepped closer, again standing close enough so she could catch a whiff of his scent, a mixture of clean soap, crisp cologne and a little Chivas. “You’re just trying to be the one who breaks up with me.”

  Don’t look down. He stood so close if she looked down she’d catch a view that might make her rethink this whole plan. Lauren closed her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath. No good, since the smell of his hard masculinity saturated the air.

  He stepped closer still, his body touching hers in all the right places. Wrong places. Not right, wrong. Lauren opened her eyes and asked the only question that mattered.

  “What kind of game are you playing, Cameron?” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, resisting the impulse to wrap her arms around his neck and give into the baser urges coursing through her traitorous body. “How far do you plan on taking this?”

  His warm hands wrapped around her upper arms, hauling her body against his. Before she could remind herself good girls don’t, his mouth was on hers, reminding her instead of two years worth of midnight fantasies in which good girls did.