at the man who had betrayed him. Revenge. Pure. Simple.
Sweet.
A minute or two of strained silence passed before she said, “All I meant was that men like you most often delegate work to your secretaries—even when it’s not something that’s really part of their job descriptions.”
He looked at her, the knife in his hand still. “My secretary’s job description includes pretty much whatever I say it does.”
“Uh-huh. Even grocery shopping?”
“There’s something wrong with that?”
She leaned both hands on the cooking island’s cool granite surface. Her skin looked even paler against the gleaming black stone. “How will you know what to get in the future? You plan to always have your secretary do the work for you?”
Actually, it sounded like a good plan to Lucas. If he wanted to grocery shop, there would be actual food in his house right now. But why would he when there was a great diner just a half block away and enough restaurants in the city of Long Beach that a man wouldn’t have to eat at the same place twice during a six-month span?
Rose shook her head. “Maybe I should be giving your secretary the lessons.”
Okay, that was a little insulting. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll get the groceries. Make a list, and I’ll take care of it before tomorrow night.”
Smiling, she said, “How about we do it together tomorrow? We’ll call it part of the lesson. I’ll show you how to choose your produce and what to look for at the meat counter.”
Lucas nodded, and she smiled even wider. Grocery shopping. Not exactly a high-end kind of date, he told himself, but then he wasn’t dating her, either. This was a planned seduction. What he wanted to do was get her off guard and keep her there. Then, when she was relaxed enough, he’d tumble her into bed. Once that was done, Lucas would tell her brother just how good she had been, and he’d have the kind of revenge that would tear at Dave Clancy for the rest of his life.
“But for now,” Rose was saying, “you finish slicing the mushrooms, then I want you to chop three tablespoons of fresh parsley.”
He paused and frowned. “Isn’t parsley the decoration on plates that no one ever eats?”
“Some of us actually do eat it.”
“Amazing,” he muttered, but went back to his task. While he worked, he managed to keep one eye on Rose as she explored his kitchen. She drew down plates and wineglasses from the cupboards, opened up the fridge and grabbed the sour cream, cheese and butter she’d brought with her for tonight’s recipe.
In a few minutes, they were working together amiably. But when she turned on the radio and soft jazz spilled from the speakers, Lucas began to worry.
He was actually enjoying himself.
And that wasn’t part of the plan.
“So?” Rose asked an hour later, “what do you think?”
She was sitting opposite him at the glass-topped table at the far end of the kitchen. Beside them was a bay window that overlooked a wide backyard. The garden lights were on, spilling small circles of golden radiance across the grass and neatly tended flowerbeds. The winter garden was sparse, but even in the dimly lit darkness, Rose could imagine how beautiful it all was in daylight.
She didn’t usually stay after the lesson and join her students for the meal they had created, but Lucas had insisted and frankly, Rose thought with an inner sigh, she hadn’t wanted to leave. Probably not a good idea to start getting attached, she warned herself sternly, but then she had always had a soft spot for Lucas King. She couldn’t explain it. It just … was.
Still, after two hours of working closely together in his amazingly wonderful kitchen, Rose still couldn’t have said that she knew Lucas any better than she once had. Oh, he seemed friendly enough, despite the thin thread of distance he insisted on keeping between them.
But then, she reminded herself as she looked back at her memories, Lucas had always been a little closed off. That’s probably what had drawn her to him in the first place, Rose realized. In her own family, the men had been outgoing, gregarious. Whatever they were thinking, they didn’t keep to themselves. They were loud and emotional and easy to read.
Meeting Lucas had been like brushing up against a gorgeous mystery. His blue eyes held secrets, his almost unreadable expressions tempted her to delve deeper and his quiet self-assurance had been a welcome difference from her brother and father.
He’d attracted her with his quiet thoughtfulness and, apparently, that hadn’t changed.
“Earth to Rose,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
She came up out of her thoughts fast and gave herself a shake. “Sorry. What?”
Lucas gave her a half smile. “You zoned out. Was it the sparkling conversation or the slightly charred chicken breast?”
She laughed a little. “The chicken is just a little well done,” she said, glancing down at the salsa-covered meat on her plate. “Not bad at all for a first try.”
“So the conversation put you to sleep?”
“No,” she said, taking a bite of the mushroom au gratin casserole. “But the lack of it might. You haven’t had a lot to say in the last hour or so, Lucas.”
“Cooking takes concentration,” he said with a shrug.
“Is that all it is?”
He looked at her. “What else would it be?”
“I don’t know,” she mused, taking a small sip of the chardonnay he had poured for both of them. “Maybe you’re regretting hiring me? After the way you and Dave left things, I’m still not sure why you hired me in the first place.”
His features tightened briefly at the mention of her brother, and, once again, Rose really wished she knew what had come between the two men. One day, their friendship was just … over. Lucas hadn’t come around anymore, and Dave had refused to talk about it with her. Unfortunately, that hadn’t changed two years later. Neither of them seemed willing to satisfy her curiosity.
“Dave’s got nothing to do with this,” Lucas murmured. “You teach cooking, I need to learn, end of story.”
“If you say so.” She didn’t believe him. Sure, there had been the coincidence of him seeing her at his neighbor’s house. But what had moved him to ask her to help him learn to cook? Why would he suddenly be willing to talk to the sister of the man he hadn’t spoken to in years? There was more here and she’d eventually get to the bottom of it. But for now, she was willing to let it go.
“So what did you think of the mushrooms au gratin?”
He grinned and took a big bite of the casserole side dish in question. Once he’d chewed and swallowed, he said, “It proves that with enough sour cream and cheese, anything is edible. Even fungi and parsley.”
“A lovely compliment,” she said, chuckling. “But you have to admit, the first meal you cooked
