“Do you know much Shakespeare?” she asked.
“I do. My mother is a high school English teacher and my father said that women like to hear a man read sonnets to them.”
“And you believed him?” she asked.
“Well, he had at this point proven himself right about a few other things. I have never let him know that fact though. He has a big ego.”
She laughed at the way he said it. She could tell from his words that he and his parents had a close relationship. She shouldn’t be surprised, he had the persona of someone who had it all. A man who was very used to getting what he wanted. So what exactly did he want from her.
“Do you remember any sonnets?” she asked him as they reached the beach and started walking along the water’s edge.
“Not any more,” he said. “But I didn’t want to quote Shakespeare for you. I wanted to discuss last night.”
Of course he did. “What about it?”
“DOYOUWANT ITTOHAPPEN again?” he asked.
She stopped abruptly and turned to look up at him. “We aren’t here for sex.”
“No we’re not, but there is something between us,” he said.
She nodded. “I know you said that kissing me made you cook better in Chef Ramone’s kitchen...”
“What are you trying to ask me? If I want to sleep with you again to cook better?” he asked, insulted that she’d think so little of him as a man. But then he realized that she didn’t know the real him.
She bit her lower lip and then took an aggressive step toward him. “That’s exactly what I want to know.”
Remy saw bravado in her expression and knew despite the way she was playing it nonchalant that last night had meant more to her than a casual hook-up. The last thing he’d intended was to get involved with any woman during this competition. He was making a life-changing decision during his time in California and he needed to stay focused on that.
But he also knew that life had a way of nudging him in the direction he needed to go in and he wasn’t sure exactly why he was so turned on by Staci Rowland, he only knew there was no denying it.
“I don’t need sex to cook well,” he said to her. “I’ve been cooking my entire life, but I’ve yet to find a woman who knocks me out of my comfort zone in the kitchen the way you did today.”
“Really?” she asked, taking a step back and seeming to not notice the surf, which curled around her ankles and soaked the bottoms of her jeans. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, reaching for her hand and taking it in his, he started walking again afraid to say too much more. But he’d already revealed more than he should have given they werecompetitors. Yet lying about the attraction he felt for her wouldn’t have sat well with him. “I just wanted you to know I’m not toying with you.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m glad. I have to admit I was a little afraid that might be part of your strategy. Though to be honest it seemed to backfire on you today. What happened when you were cooking?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just fell back on my familiar tastes and dishes.”
“And the judges didn’t want that. I think they want us to grow...you know you owe me a dish. You have to cook for me.”
“I know. What do you want me to make for you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Something that will make me forget everything I know about you. Make me a dish that will force me to see you in a different light,” she said. “Like the tidbit about Shakespeare did.”
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “You have a very nice voice I wouldn’t mind hearing you recite a few sonnets for me.”
“Maybe our next bet will involve that,” he said.
She shook her head. “You don’t want to hear me stumble over old English.”
“Maybe I’ll have you read something a little racier to me. I think there’d be nothing sexier than listening to you talk about your fantasies.”
She flushed and shook her head. The wind stirred the short hair of her bangs. “I’m not...that is to say I don’t?—“
