Ember Page 14

  How could I have forgotten about Chris? And here I am, half-naked in my own front hall!

  Reluctantly, she bent and gathered up her bra and shirt as Daniel retrieved his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, hiding that sexy chest from view.

  She'd gotten about half of her buttons done up when the house's landline phone rang.

  She walked into the office and peered at the Caller ID. It was her nephew Ash's number.

  "Hello, my dear," she said.

  There was a startled pause. Then a young voice said, "Uh, Mrs. Swanson? This is Chris. Is Uncle Dan there?"

  Chapter Sixteen – Sweet Seduction

  "He's right here," Margaret said, trying her best not to sound like she'd been standing in the middle of her foyer a few short minutes ago, doing her best to tear his uncle's clothes off.

  Daniel appeared silently beside her, and she handed him the phone's handset.

  "Hey, Junior, what's up?"

  Margaret couldn't help overhearing Chris' rushed explanation. Inadvertent eavesdropping was just part of shifter life with its enhanced senses.

  "So, Ash invited Matt over for the night since his little sister Maggie is running a fever and Matt's mom doesn't want Matt to get sick, too. Matt and Mitya want me to stay over too and help alpha-test Grizzly Creek Games' latest, Survival of the Fittest. And Ash said it was okay, that he'd love to have another tester! Oh, and Sophie's gonna be there, too!"

  Daniel's brows went up. He mouthed "Who's Ash?" at Margaret.

  "My nephew," Margaret whispered. "Dr. Nika's mate. They live here on the ranch, across from the main house."

  Daniel looked torn. Margaret could sympathize with his conflict, given how recently Chris had been in mortal danger.

  "He'll be perfectly safe with Ash and Nika." Wickedly, she added, "And we'll be all alone."

  His eyes widened as he caught her meaning. He said into the phone, "Chris, could you put Ash on the line, please?"

  "Sure!" Then Chris said to someone on his end, "Matt, my uncle wants to talk to your uncle."

  "It's a meeting of the uncles," Margaret whispered, and was rewarded with Daniel's grin.

  A moment later, Ash came on the line. "Hi, Daniel. I'm Mitya's dad, and we were hoping that Chris could stay over here with the older kids tonight and help me test my company's latest game. We're almost ready to release it to our beta testers, but I like to run it by my dedicated team of alpha testers first."

  "Ash owns Grizzly Creek Games," Margaret added, still whispering, though she knew that Ash could hear every word she said.

  "Are you sure Chris wouldn't be imposing on you?" Daniel said.

  "No, not at all," Ash assured him. "Mitya and Matt and Sophie are all excited about having a new friend here on the ranch, especially since it sounds like you and Chris might be staying a while. We'll send him back over to Aunt Margaret's after breakfast tomorrow."

  There was a chorus of protests in the background, and Ash laughed. "Or, if you don't have any plans for him, we'll just bring him to Sunday dinner tomorrow and hand him off then."

  Margaret heard the sound of youthful cheering.

  Daniel shook his head, but she saw the twinkle in his green eyes. "Well, that's really kind of you, Ash," he said. "Chris hasn't really had the chance to spend time around shifter kids his own age. I'm obliged to you."

  "Oh no, the pleasure is all mine," Ash assured him. "He's a really nice kid, really polite. In fact, he could teach my little monster a thing or two—"

  "Daaaad!" Mitya protested in the background.

  "So, it's all right with you?" Ash asked, ignoring his son's outburst. "We're just down the road from Aunt Margaret's."

  "It's fine, and thank you so much," Daniel said. "I'm glad he's getting along so well with the other kids here."

  "Chris, your uncle said you can stay," Ash said, addressing the assembled kids on his end of the line.

  The sound of cheers echoed down the connection.

  Ash laughed. "The game is designed as a multiplayer team experience, so four players mean that they can have two teams."

  In the background, Sophie said firmly, "And I want Chris on my team!"

  "Here's Chris again," Ash said. "And I look forward to meeting you at Sunday dinner tomorrow, Daniel."

  "The pleasure will be all mine," Daniel said.

  Chris came on the line. "Thank you, Uncle Dan!"

  "Have fun, Junior," Daniel said. "And don't forget to thank Ash and Dr. Nika for inviting you over."

  "I won't!" Chris said enthusiastically. "Bye!"

  He disconnected, as if in a hurry to get off the phone before his uncle changed his mind.

  Daniel laughed, looped his arm around Margaret's shoulders, and drew her in for another kiss.

  But the brief respite had allowed Margaret's hormone-fogged brain to clear enough that she remembered she had some important news to convey.

  "Wait," she said. "Remember how you asked me whether any of the local businesses were hiring chefs?"

  She felt sudden tension run through Daniel's body. "Yeah? Did you hear anything?"

  "While you were out, I spoke to Eddy Ornelas over at the Bearpaw Springs Resort. He's an old friend of the family, and he's been trying to attract conferences and weddings and other upscale kinds of events to his hotel. He was really excited when I mentioned that you were looking for a job in the area. He wants to interview you for an executive chef position over lunch tomorrow."

  "Executive chef at a resort? That's better than I was hoping for," Daniel admitted. "I heard that Justin Long needed a cook at his barbecue restaurant and was thinking of asking him about it when he got back."

  Margaret blew out a frustrated breath. "Daniel, when you told me you worked at a restaurant, I had no idea that you were so famous. Why didn't you say anything? I was ready to send you over to Dancing Cow Burgers, for goodness sakes!"

  "And that would have been just fine." He smiled crookedly down at her, his green eyes crinkling with good humor. "I worked at an upscale burger place while I was in culinary school. It taught me a lot about efficient workflows."

  His humility was astounding. Margaret leaned her head against his shoulder, shaking with laughter and enjoying his warmth and the deliciously musky scent of sex.

  "I could still ask Jill over at Dancing Cow to interview you," she said dryly, when she had recovered her breath, "but I thought you might be more interested in Eddy's opportunity. The resort's been around a long time—it was built sometime in the early 1900s, before Bearpaw Springs became a national park, and it gets a lot of business from park visitors between May and October. Eddy wants to keep his staff busy and his rooms booked all year around."

  "It definitely sounds like something I'd be interested in doing." Daniel pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. "I'll call him right now. What's Mr. Ornelas's number?"

  * * *

  After setting a time for the interview with Eddy Ornelas, Daniel vanished upstairs for a quick shower and change of clothes.

  Margaret used the time to trim the stems of the roses before putting them in a large vase. She leaned over to inhale their faint perfume, then set the vase on her breakfast nook table, where she could admire them. How long had it been since she received flowers from anyone but her kids on Mother's Day?

  When Daniel reappeared a short time later, he was wearing a professional apron with a multitude of pockets over his t-shirt and jeans, and carrying an oiled canvas bundle fastened with straps and buckles. He pulled a bottle of wine from the big bag of groceries he'd purchased, poured her a glass, and gently banished her to the perimeter as he took command of her kitchen.

  "What's that?" Margaret asked, pointing at the mysterious bundle.

  She settled herself onto one of the comfortable, low-backed stools on the other side of her big kitchen island and indulged in the luxury of watching someone else cook for a change.

  "My knife roll." Daniel unrolled the bundle to reveal wide loops holding a selection of gleami
ng, high-quality knives ranging from a small paring knife to a large santoku, along with several ballpoint pens, a packet of Band-Aids, and various zippered compartments bulging with mysterious items.

  He pulled a pair of disposable gloves from one of the compartments, and a flat tin labeled "Maldon sea salt flakes" from another compartment.

  "You take your knives with you everywhere you go?" she asked, surprised.

  He nodded, pulling a stack of chopping boards from the cabinet next to her fridge. "Most chefs do. They're the tools of our trade, they can be expensive and every chef has a set of knives that they prefer working with."

  She watched in fascination as he began pulling a variety of ingredients out of his shopping bag, supplemented by items from her fridge and her spice cabinet, and began to organize them on the island's generous expanse of counter space.

  Daniel added, "Earlier in my career, I saw one or two fights break out over knives being borrowed without permission or outright stolen from a chef's knife roll."

  "Did anyone ever try to take one of your knives?" Margaret couldn't help asking.

  "Never." Daniel's tone was flat, and for the first time, he looked like what he was: a dangerous alpha predator. He added, "At my restaurant, I made that kind of thing a firing offense."

  Margaret's shock must have shown in her expression.

  "Look, an employee who doesn't respect his or her co-worker's property is an employee who's also prone to lifting tips and stealing alcohol. I learned that one the hard way."

  "So did I," Margaret admitted. "When I helped Elle start the B&B here at the ranch, we hired a few less-than-trustworthy cleaners and cooks. It took a couple of bad experiences before I learned to spot potential problems when hiring our staff."

  Using her largest cutting board, Daniel began to wash and prep the selection of vegetables, his largest knife blurring as it beat out a rapid staccato against the board.

  She was astounded at his speed and accuracy. It took him less than ten minutes to chop lettuce, halve a pound of Brussels sprouts; peel, seed, dice a butternut squash into tiny, evenly sized cubes; wash and chop a leek; grate a mound of sweet potatoes; and core and dice an apple.

  "Here's the most important thing that working in a restaurant taught me," he said, conversationally as he tossed the Brussels sprout halves with oil and salt before dumping them onto a piece of parchment covering one of her cookie sheets and shoving them into one of her ovens to roast. "To make it as a professional chef, you have to know how to cook, but you also have to be extremely organized and aware of timing. At any given moment during dinner service, I know exactly what each of my line cooks is supposed to be doing and what's coming up next."

  "Well, you're certainly more organized than I am," she observed, admiring the neat piles of vegetables lined up on her counter.

  Daniel set a timer, washed his knife, switched cutting boards and picked up the two large steelhead salmon he'd purchased from Larry.

  "So, what about you?" he invited as he began to neatly fillet and de-bone the fish. "Are you from this area originally? Did you grow up here?"

  "Born and bred on a ranch about an hour's drive away," Margaret said. "The Einarssons are a bear shifter clan who settled here about the same time that the Swansons did. Our two clans have always been on good terms. Your turn: How long have you been living in Albuquerque?"

  As they talked, he continued to measure out ingredients and seasonings and heat pans. Margaret luxuriated in the sensation of sipping her wine and watching him move around her kitchen with brisk, confident efficiency. The afterglow from their unexpected encounter lingered, and she found herself smiling and admiring his tight ass in his comfortably-worn jeans. Her house began to fill with mouthwatering aromas.

  When the piles of prepared ingredients on the counters had dwindled to a few isolated items, both ovens were going, and her six-burner stovetop was crowded with steaming pots and sizzling pans, Daniel wiped down all of his work surfaces, then swiftly washed the cutting boards with steaming-hot water and dish soap.

  "It'll be a little while before dinner's ready," he said. His voice dropped to a seductive murmur. "How about an amuse bouche or two?"

  "I don't know what that is," Margaret confessed, taking another sip of the crisp, mildly citrusy Pinot Grigio that he'd poured for her. "But it sounds appealingly dirty."

  Daniel threw back his head and laughed. "Consider it the foreplay to dinner."

  She watched him pull out a large antique silver soup spoon from her special occasion silverware drawer, and arrange a square of crisp, maple-glazed bacon topped with half a seared Brussels sprout, sliced grapes, walnut halves, and a tangy yogurt sauce mixed with fresh chopped mint.

  "Close your eyes and open wide," he said, flirtatiously, coming around to her side of the island, balancing the filled spoon between his fingers.

  She didn't have to be asked twice.

  Cool metal brushed against her lower lip as he slid the spoon into her mouth. The assemblage of ingredients came together as harmonious whole, and one of the best things she had ever tasted: sweet and salty and tangy. Her eyes still closed, she savored it and wished there was more.

  It was a terrific promise of the meal to come.

  She swallowed the last bit, and felt his warm breath on her face an instant before his lips caressed hers in a gentle but thorough kiss.

  "I hope you enjoyed that," he murmured, pulling away after a too-short interval.

  "I did. Utterly delicious," she breathed, opening her eyes at last.

  His smile was almost unbearably sexy. "And we're just getting started. I'm going to show you a good time tonight, darlin'. Ready for the next bite?"

  "Only if you promise to kiss me again," she said, her heart pounding.

  His smile turned wicked. "That depends on what you think of next amuse bouche. Here." He handed her the glass of wine. "Clear your palate while I put things together."

  She sipped at it obediently, and watched with fascination as he picked up a ripe pear from the ingredients he had purchased, and began to slice it. It took only a few moments for him to put together a second little bite. The "spoon" this time was a cleverly sliced piece of pear that held a tiny portion of sautéed mushrooms topped with melted blue cheese crumbles and a toasted almond.

  "Oh, my goodness," she said, when she had chewed and swallowed. "Marry me, Daniel."

  She had intended it as a joking exaggeration, but her bear spoke up. Yes. Don't let this one get away.

  Daniel froze, as if he'd somehow overheard her bear.

  Margaret immediately regretted her flippant comment. Uh oh. I went too far. I'm really out of practice with this whole dating thing.

  Then his wicked smile returned. "Now, that's the kind of reaction I was hoping for."

  He reached out and tenderly stroked her lips with his thumb in a light, teasing caress that ignited her senses.

  She captured his thumb between her teeth, then closed her lips around it, and sucked gently. Daniel rewarded her with a sharp inhalation. Slowly sensually, she used her tongue to circle the tip of his thumb before releasing him.

  He made a low growling sound. She felt the fingers of his free hand dig into her braid, and his mouth descended on hers in a hard, hungry kiss that reminded her of just how exciting but ultimately unsatisfying their brief encounter had been. She wanted more...a lot more from him.

  Daniel's eyes were sheened with gold when he pulled away from her, leaving her lips tingling and the sweet, swollen ache of arousal throbbing between her thighs.

  "You're an evil temptress...and I love it." He began to lean in for another kiss, then he glanced over at the oven. He straightened with a curse. "My butternut squash!"

  And just like that, he was gone, moving with shifter speed to rescue a pan of roasting vegetables from the oven. Margaret stared after him, the imprint of his kiss still burning her mouth, and began laughing.

  "You are such a tease!" she told him, as he began to stir the cubes of roasted
squash into one of the pots. "And an amazing cook."

  He grinned at her. "You haven't seen anything yet," he promised her. "Just a little longer, and I promise to satisfy your hunger."

  Over the next two hours, he made good on his promise as he continued his seduction with a succession of delicious dishes, interspersed with heated kisses and compliments.

  Margaret had never had a date like this before, and she loved every minute of it.