Turning Up the Heat by Laura Florand Read Free Book Online

had been married for over ten years. But his mouth curved, not too differently from the way it curved when he was on Top Chef , when his hands were flying, his brain fermenting with brilliance as he strove to beat the opposing chef at whatever insane challenge the show threw at them, all while his mouth stayed almost tender in its calm. He makes love to the food, the announcers would say, watch him. “Do you remember the first time you got me a spot on that show? How happy you were?”
Well—yes. It had been such a coup. She had hugged him and hugged him, so happy with herself to have given him this window to shine. To show the whole world how wonderful he was.
“And do you remember the first time I won?” He stroked his own cheek, as if he was feeling something there. “You couldn’t stop touching me.”
She smiled. “Yes.” How they had celebrated. He had been so awesome. Absolument merveilleux. For weeks afterward, some vision of him at a particular moment in the intense battle would flash before her eyes, and if he was anywhere within reach, she would fling her arms around him and kiss him again, just for being so wonderful. Oh, had he ever shown the world.
He looked away again. “I thrived on that.”
The meaning was so strange, it had to percolate through her slowly. Like another language, with no Rosetta Stone that could help her pick it apart and make sense of it. “Wait...you didn’t do it for yourself?”
A sharp gray glance. “You must not understand me. Of course I did it for myself.” He touched his cheek again.
“Ah.” She relaxed. That was, in fact, what she had always known. He had that drive. He wanted to be the best. She had poured everything of herself into supporting his need to be incredible.
Everything.
Something prickled through her at the thought, an almost-awareness, an answer. Was that what—
“To make you that happy with me? What man wouldn’t do everything, for that?”
She was so dumbfounded, she thought she might cry. The perspective was so radically different from anything she had ever believed. He did it…he did all that because she kissed him?
“Léa.” That inexplicable hostility had faded. Daniel touched her cheek. “Don’t.”
And she realized she was crying. Again. “ O purée ,” she muttered indignantly, making him smile a little. Probably the only reason her language stayed so clean after a lifetime in the restaurant business was the way he smiled at her polite little swear words. “Not again.”
“Again?” He rubbed one tear away with a callused thumb that made her hungry for more caresses. Her face curved into his palm before any doubt could override the instinct.
She shrugged, deeply reluctant to admit to him how weak she felt right now.
“Léa.” Daniel rolled back, using her wrists to tug her astride him. He had almost no control of her body with her wrists alone, so she had to cooperate, but she had never resisted Daniel. Their teenage fear of crossing lines, of going too far, and Daniel’s romantic urge to treat her like something precious had been all that slowed them down.
She smiled at him a little tremulously as she settled astride him. But the warmth of his body between her thighs felt utterly perfect, pushing back that wariness she couldn’t explain. Still without a shirt, he lay on the sand beneath her, all flat stomach and defined ribs and lean muscled strength. He made her want to cry again, he was so utterly beautiful.
Still loosely clasping her wrists, his thumbs stretched high to stroke down the sensitive insides of her forearms. Over and over. A caress that took over her will, melting her to him. “Léa.” His voice deepened. His eyes had gone brilliant again, but nothing hard or angry in them now. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed the palms. “I love you.”
She nodded rapidly, me, too, feeling shaky and shivery with hunger and vulnerability and that caution that had driven her to the other side of the world without