Recipe for Desire by Cheris Hodges Read Free Book Online Page A

used to the kinder, gentler Serena Jacobs,” Devon quipped. “I owe you and I will cook for you and Antonio. Something special and simple that you can recreate.”
    “Funny,” she replied. “I keep telling you people, Antonio didn’t marry me for my cooking. But I will take you up on your offer. Seriously though, I’m really proud of what you’re doing with these women. When you were teaching them how to make the sauce, you weren’t talking down to them or anything like that. This is really personal for you, isn’t it?”
    Devon nodded. “I think about my mother when I come here. What if my father didn’t have money and she didn’t have the means to get away when things started getting rough?”
    Serena patted him on the shoulder. “I wonder if I wouldn’t have been in a place like this if Emerson hadn’t left me at the altar and we’d gotten married, but Emerson’s movie failed.” She shuddered and hugged herself tightly. “But for the grace of God go I,” she quoted.
    “I’ll see you at the restaurant for dinner,” he said.
    “Umm, not tonight,” she replied, with a naughty twinkle in her eye. “A. J.’s going fishing with Norman, so ...”
    Devon threw his hands up. “Save the details. I get it.”
    Serena bade the women good-bye and sauntered out of the shelter, still proving to Devon that the Serena Jacobs he knew still existed.

Chapter 5
    Marie kicked off her shoes when she walked into her Uptown condo and promised herself to never take a cab again. The driver seemed to be driving with his eyes closed, barely following traffic guidelines. And then he had the gall to ask her if he could pick up another fare while she was in the car! Shivering, she grabbed her BlackBerry, which her father had insisted that she leave at home, to check her messages. Of course there was a message from her personal buyer at Neiman Marcus, asking where she was. But the next message caught her off guard. Maybe it was the bass in the caller’s voice or what she’d taken as a seductive timbre that made her knees quiver and her heart jump and skip a beat. Who was this man? And, boy, did she like the sound of her name coming out of his mouth. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Marie listened to the message again—this time hearing every word he said.
    “Good evening, Marie Charles, I’m sorry to call you so late. But I just got your file from My Sister’s Keeper and I understand we’re going to be working together. My name is Devon Harris and I’ll be supervising your community service. We should get together so that I can tell you what I need and expect from you. Please give me a call at seven-oh-four, five-five-five, two-three-four-four.”
    Marie pressed the End button on her BlackBerry. This was about her damned community service? Ugh! “But Devon Harris, that name sounded so familiar,” she said as she lifted her iPad from the edge of her coffee table. She typed his name in her Google search menu and waited for the links to populate.
    When the Web site for Devon’s cooking show came up, Marie remembered where she knew him from: the Food Network and Hometown Delights. That restaurant was almost as notorious as she was, with it being the scene of a murder involving mogul Solomon Crawford, and where director Emerson Bradford lost his mind and tried to kill his ex. She clicked on a picture of Devon, drinking in his chocolate brown skin, short wavy hair, and big hands. Of course he had big hands; he was a chef and probably knew how to knead a body just like bread dough. Still, it wasn’t as if they were meeting for a social engagement or to have a nice dinner. He was going to be her community service supervisor. He probably had all kinds of negative thoughts about her. Why do I care? she thought as she tore her eyes from his picture. It was five minutes after eight, so Marie figured it wasn’t too late to return Devon’s call. But did she really want to? The last thing she needed was to be judged by this