She probably had no idea that her hair was tousled and gorgeous, her face was flushed and gorgeous, and her mouth… Lord, her mouth. Wet, luscious and gorgeous. She’d never looked the part of kitchen goddess more convincingly.
“Ten seconds!”
“Is it true?” she whispered. “You’re almost done here? You’re leaving?”
“Yeah.” Regret roughened his voice. “I’ve been called back.”
She nodded and looked away.
Mitch found his mark, but he was off balance, and knew it would be impossible to gain it back in time. The line between this show and the pleasure he found in Dimi was blurring badly. He was starting to have the sinking feeling that the heart he’d frozen after Daniel’s death was defrosting.
Hell of a time for it.
“Five, four…”
It was also a hell of a time to realize what was really bothering him about going back to Los Angeles.
The fact that he didn’t want to go.
“THREE, TWO…”
Dimi dragged in a deep breath, but it didn’t clear her head. Nothing could clear her head after having Mitch’s hot, open mouth on her.
“And…you’re on!”
She smiled for the camera and prayed it was a good one. At least it wasn’t cold and forced, but then again, nothing about her had been cold and forced since the day Mitch Knight set foot in Truckee.
But soon he’d be gone, and she’d be free to go back to being herself-only somewhere along the way she’d lost that woman.
“Welcome to Food Time,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “We have some great recipes coming up. Tomorrow we’ll do borlenghe with pancetta and rosemary.”
Beside her, Mitch looked totally blank. “Bore what?”
She imagined another hundred viewers falling for that helplessly confused expression on his innocent face. Only she knew he was no innocent! “Crispy crêpes from Modena,” she translated. “But for today, we’re cooking roasted leg of lamb.”
Somehow she finished her intro, but she was painfully, vibrantly aware of the tall, powerful, far too magnificent man standing next to her, unusually quiet and speculative.
She should have known that wouldn’t last.
“We’re also introducing a new element to the show today.” He broke in, surprising her.
His gaze was deep and fathomless and full of heat-for her-and every complaint flew right out of her head.
“We’re going to take call-ins on the air,” he said, and when that sank in, Dimi nearly fell off her high heels.
“What?”
“Later,” he said, going to the refrigerator and taking out a tray of meat.
But that was her move, so she stalked right up to him and reached for the tray.
“Just trying to give you a hand,” he said with an innocent smile. “Don’t want you to catch cold in that itty-bitty dress here in front of this blast of cold air.”
That she already had goose bumps all over her body was his fault, but she didn’t point it out. “Thanks, Mitch. You’re going to make someone a very considerate wife some day.” Smiling for the camera, she pulled the tray in front of her, which she hoped would hide the fact that her nipples were still at urgent attention.
Mitch followed her to the counter and watched with interest as she handled the meat. When she lifted a tenderizing mallet he leaned back in horror. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Tenderize the meat.”
He shuddered. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
“Too late,” she said sweetly, wielding the mallet and making Mitch wince. One strap fell down her shoulder, and with a sideways disgruntled look at the man who’d picked the dress out, she shoved it back up. She concentrated on her task, on talking to the camera and on keeping her dress up all at the same time, until the lamb was ready for the oven.
Dimi carried the tray to the opened appliance and stood there, rooted by sudden indecision.
How was she supposed to bend over to put the food in without flashing her panties to every single viewer?
“What’s the matter?” Mitch asked, lightly of course, since he didn’t have a care in the world.
She shot him a look of panic and saw laughter swimming in his eyes. He knew exactly what the matter was. In fact, given his sick, twisted sense of humor, he’d probably planned it! “I’ve decided to let you be chivalrous today,” she said, thrusting the tray at him, yanking on the hem of her dress as casually as she could.
Mitch put the meat into the oven and then took their first phone call. “Hello,” he said into the camera. “You’re on the air with Food Time.”
“Oh! Oh, how exciting! This is Millie from Fernley!”
“Hello Millie from Fernley!” Mitch said, speaking in exclamations, as she had. He smiled sweetly. “How can we help you today?”
Though the woman sounded as if she’d been smoking for sixty years, and had maybe driven a truck for much of that time, she giggled. “I was wondering. Do you and Dimi date?”
Mitch tucked his tongue in his cheek and deferred the question to Dimi with a lifted hand.
“Um…that would be negative,” Dimi said quickly.
“What a shame! You do know how handsome he is, right, dear?”
Dimi did not look at Mitch. “Did you have a cooking question, Millie?”
“Well, sort of. I was wondering, if you don’t date Mitch, and you gave up all other men, who’ve you been cooking with, girl?”
Dimi’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Well, you’ve been kissing someone.”
Dimi let out a little laugh. “Millie, maybe you have the wrong channel. This is a cooking show. You know that, right?”
“Yes, and my question stands. Who’ve you been cooking with, because lordie, that hickey on your neck is making me weak in the knees. I want one of them. Did Mitch put that there?”
Dimi looked at Mitch. And mercifully, they cut to commercial.
Suzie ran up to Dimi, wisely keeping her laughter to herself as she handed her a little mirror. Doing contortions, Dimi was just able to catch a glimpse of said hickey at the base of her throat.
“Oh. My. God.”
Suzie’s cell phone rang. She answered it and looked at Dimi as she said, “Yeah, she’s here, and she only has sixty seconds, so make it fast.” Then she handed Dimi the phone.
It was Cami, and she got right to the point. “Holy cow, that hickey is amazing! Please, oh, please tell me you finally did the deed with that man.”
“Cami!”
“Tell me you did it right there on your darkened set against the refrigerator, so hot and needy for each other you didn’t even care that anyone could walk in on you at any moment.”
Dimi looked skyward, then made the mistake of looking at Mitch again. He was studying a spreadsheet his assistant had shoved in his hands, but as if he sensed her gaze, he looked up. Right at her. Through her, to the inside, where she was wondering if he really might have taken her against the refrigerator.
His gaze heated.
Oh, yeah, he would have, and her thighs clenched at the thought. Her tummy tightened, too. “Cami, I gotta go.”
“You did! Against the refrig! Oh, my God, Sis. That’s so cool.”
“We didn’t. It’s just that…” She lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. “He’s driving me crazy, Cam.”
“You mean he’s making you hot?”
“Yes!” she cried miserably.
“Well then, beat him at his own game, would ya? Stop letting him get the better of you. Make him hot right back!”
“But…”
“But nothing, just do it.”
Once again she looked at the tall, dark, mesmerizing man getting the best of her and admitted the truth. “I don’t know if I can.”
“What? Are you kidding? Have you looked in the mirror lately? We’re hot, babe. We’ve got it going on, so for God’s sake, use it. You’ve already got the new wardrobe. Now all you have to do is turn the tables on him.”