A Pinch of Kitchen Magic (5 page)

Her nose twitched. It
smelled of rain in the kitchen, sweeping away the aroma of the
spice blend.
He
was in her kitchen. Her chicken fantasy vanished but the
image of Matteus lingered a bit longer. “How long have you been
standing there?” Irritation chased off the euphoria reading the
cookbook provided.

“
Long enough.” Matteus
slid into the chair opposite her. His gaze slipped over the open
pages of the cookbooks on the tabletop between them.

“
What made you decide to
pop in after three days of silence?” That made her sound petty, as
if she had a previous claim to him. Aidan bit her lip, holding his
gaze with her own. She banished all sexy thoughts of him to the
forgotten area of her mind.

“
I found the need for
space between us a more imminent issue than the need to further
your skills assessment.” Two deep lines of worry wrinkled the
smoothness of his brow.

“
Ah. I hope you had a
relaxing time away from me then.”

“
It was quiet, but not
relaxing.” His gaze flickered then dropped briefly to his hand
before meeting hers once more. “I trust you’ve been
practicing?”

“
Yes.” She sighed before
rushing into the silence. “Do you think I can be redeemed after all
or am I so hopeless that’s why you stayed away?”

A trace of a blush stained his neck.
“Everyone can be redeemed from whatever holds them
hostage.”

“
How does the rule
regarding arrogance and magic not apply to you?” She leaned back in
her chair, crossing her arms. “You have a high opinion of
yourself.”

His shrug was slight. “My opinion is
high because I am good at what I do.” He undid the top button of
his gray silk shirt. “Arrogance and confidence is not the same
thing.”

“
I’ll withhold
my
opinion on
your
opinion until I
know you better.” She closed the cookbook with a snap. “I didn’t
waste these three days. I’ve learned a few things but haven’t come
close to conjuring a six course meal.”

He cleared his throat while drumming
his slender fingers on the glossy front of a magazine. “You’re
dreaming too big. Small victories should be your goal.” The corners
of his mouth tilted upward with a lopsided smile. “Also, I would
caution you against conjuring. It’s a messy business at best.
Someone will inevitably get hurt. Stick with ingredients already in
existence then go from there. Use what you have on hand and
manipulate them with the skills you possess.”

Aidan narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t
sure she could trust him. She tidied the cookbooks into a neat
stack, aligning the worn and cracked spines in an orderly row.
“I’ve learned a few things about cooking.” She stood. The sound of
chair legs scraping against the tiled floor made her
cringe.

“
And I suppose you’re
about to share your wealth of culinary enlightenment with me?”
Matteus stood in one fluid motion, amusement playing about his
features. “By all means, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“
Hmm, sounds like an
arrogant comment to me.” She moved across the black and white
checked tiled floor. “There are some times when cooking can’t be
rushed. It’s more of an artistic endeavor.” Yanking open a
tangerine colored, retro-style refrigerator, she gathered a carton
of milk and a stick of butter. “Cooking is a selfish master. You
get out of it what you put into it.” Aidan closed the door with her
hip and looked at Matteus. “You can’t hurry it and you can’t make
it better with magic.”

“
Everything can be
enhanced with magic. And don’t you want to use your magic to help
with your cooking?”

She ignored the tiny fact.

“
I love newbies.”
Unmistakable sarcasm dripped from his tone. He leaned his shoulder
against the fridge and assumed an attitude of boredom. “Back to the
magic. Years ago there was a particularly gifted fashion model. I
reconstructed her earlobes.” He rubbed his chin. “She was quite
grateful.”

A swift stab of jealousy jolted her
heart. Of course, any man that looked like he stepped from the
pages of GQ would have a super-model girlfriend. She dropped the
cold ingredients on the butcher block where they fell with a dull
thud. “I’m sure your tales of sexual prowess have entertained more
interested parties than me.”

A dark brow cocked at her statement.
“I don’t believe the topic of sex has been broached this evening.
However, my interest in your mind’s visit down that dark road is
now piqued.”

Aidan’s cheeks burned when the image
of his naked body surfaced once again. “Never mind.” No way would
she ever reveal those daydreams, not even for a repeat of that
kiss. “Are you going to help me or not? We’ll make a basic Béchamel
sauce.” She handed him an onion from a wicker basket. “Please
finely chop a quarter of this for me.”

“
And the point of this
exercise?” He pushed off from the refrigerator. “I usually order my
food out.”

“
Of course you do, but
this is simple. This will show you I’m serious about cooking and
why I’d like to use magic to help me with it.” She cut off two
tablespoons of butter then snagged a small saucepan from the
hanging rack above the island. “I’ve got a couple of chicken
breasts in the oven for dinner.”

“
I believe you’ve
misunderstood me.” Matteus separated the onion from its skin. “My
interest is not in your kitchen skills. I’m here to see if you’ll
injure yourself with your magic.”

“
I won’t, but if it comes
to that, you have my permission to take power away or forbid me
from practicing. Whatever.” Aidan sighed in frustration. “Either
way, I’ll continue on the way I have my whole life. Working in an
office by day, attempting to cook by night.” She dropped the butter
pat into the pot on the burner and waited as it slowly
melted.

“
Alone and unfulfilled?”
Though he’d said he ordered out, his knife skills were impressive
as he cut the vegetable.

She glared at him. “No.” Marching back
to the island, she grabbed the milk carton and yanked another
saucepan down from the rack. “I’m perfectly happy, thank
you.”

His grin was smug. “I never mentioned
you were unhappy.” He brought the onion to the stove and dropped it
into the pot with the butter. “It’s interesting you made a point to
defend your psyche to me.”

The second saucepan plunked onto
another burner. Flipping the dial, she waited until the blue flame
appeared then she added a cup of milk to the pot. “A life alone was
enough for Aunt Hettie and it’s just fine for me.” Aidan stood
beside him, her body rigid in the attempt to not touch him.
Watching Matteus from the corner of her eye, she admired his easy
grip on the wooden spoon, the way a few wisps of brown hair
sprinkled the back of his hand.

“
That’s unfortunate.” He
stirred the bits of onion. “A woman like you shouldn’t journey
through life without someone to appreciate her.”

Aidan’s heart beat an erratic rhythm.
She pulled a white porcelain canister toward her, dismayed that her
hand shook. She removed the lid and sprinkled a couple tablespoons
of flour over the onions in his saucepan. “Why would you say that?”
The heat from the stove was nothing compared to the heat he
generated within her. If she spent any more time in close proximity
with him, she would burst into flames.

Matteus glanced at her. “Women were
designed to be worshipped, to be held in the highest esteem.” He
moved the spoon through the flour mixture. “Don’t you crave the
touch of a loving man, to feel the gentle caress of someone’s
fingers over your skin, to be joined intimately with a man who
adores you?”

“
I had that once, but the
only thing he wanted was to control me, use me as his own personal
housekeeper and cook.” Aidan licked her dry lips. “If that’s what
having a man means, I want no part of it.” A bitter laugh escaped
from her throat.

“
What’s funny?”

“
The joke was on him. I’m
a better housekeeper than a cook. Eventually, he left. Said he
couldn’t get the taste of charcoal out of his mouth.” She turned
her attention to the milk. Tiny bubbles formed along the edges.
Turning the burner off, she fumbled in a drawer to her right for a
whisk. “Watch out, this is hot.”

Matteus stepped aside as she poured
the scalding milk into the first saucepan. “You have missed out on
much in your life, Aidan. Perhaps it’s time you re-learned the
fundamentals.”

“
Of living? I’ve got a
pretty good handle on walking and talking.” She quickly moved the
whisk around the pan. Her lips curled with pleasure when the
contents thickened under her coaxing. “At least with cooking I
don’t have to second guess. Either it works or it doesn’t. Trouble
is, most of the time, it doesn’t. Maybe that’s just
fate.”

“
Maybe it’s not and you
need more practice, or someone who believes in your
skill.”

“
Hmm.” Adding a touch of
salt and black pepper, she exchanged the whisk for his abandoned
wooden spoon. “A French chef would tell you to use only white
pepper, but I disagree. I want to see the flecks of black pepper. I
like seeing it as well as tasting it. Also, I like to add a tiny
pinch of nutmeg. It makes my sauce unique.” She sprinkled a smidge
of the light brown spice into the saucepan.

“
You derive pleasure from
cooking, correct?” He sniffed at the pot’s contents.

She nodded. “Yes, when everything
comes out beautifully. When it doesn’t, it’s just stressful and
disappointing.” She drew out the wooden spoon, admiring the white
sauce with its sheen from the butter. Bringing the spoon to her
mouth, she tentatively touched her tongue to the spoon.
“Perfect.”

“
Imagine that pleasure
multiplied by a hundred once you find the right man—in your
kitchen, moving in your body, sharing your life.”

His whispered words
shivered over the back of her neck as he stood closely behind her.
She gripped the spoon, ignoring the drop of sauce that fell to the
floor. She ached to turn around and look at him but she didn’t
dare.
Will there be interest and desire in
his eyes or just pity and disgust?
“I’ll
take your word for it but unless I see the evidence with my own
eyes, I’m disinclined to believe you.”

“
You still have much to
learn.” He briefly touched her shoulder. “I have no doubts you’ll
learn it quickly.”

She blew out a relieved breath when he
moved to the round table. “Maybe, but right now we eat. I refuse to
waste this wonderful sauce.”

* * * *

Matteus gazed at his
dining companion over the rim of his wineglass. For the most part,
he found her attempt at chicken to be dry and the broccoli rabe
with lemon juice was mushy. But her Béchamel sauce had been spot
on. He had to admit, her addition of nutmeg gave the sauce an
unexpected element. He resisted the urge to swirl a finger through
the puddle of white on his black plate. Better yet, he’d love to
lick the remaining sauce from
her
finger… Another sip of the crisp white wine
cleansed his palate but did nothing to settle his mind or the heat
swimming through his body. She was too close but far from
attainable because he couldn’t let himself forget that magic was
more important.

“
So, how did you like your
food?” She dabbed delicately at her lips with a cotton napkin that
sported a black and white cow-print.

“
Uh…” He carefully placed
his wineglass on the table. “Honestly?” He had to choose his words
carefully.

Aidan nodded. “Of course. I know I’m
not an expert so I don’t expect glowing accolades.” She smiled.
“So?”

“
Maybe you should enroll
in cooking classes.” Matteus pushed back his plate. Hurt clouded
her eyes, and he steeled himself against it. He hated it that he’d
been the one to pop her hopeful bubble. “However, I can find no
fault with the sauce. The snootiest French chefs in the world
couldn’t hold a candle to it.”

“
Thanks for that, I guess.
I’m a miserable cook.” Aidan twisted the napkin in her fingers. “If
magic can’t help me, what makes you think classes would? I mean, I
failed Home Ec in high school, I was kicked out of weekend cooking
classes at the local college, and most recently a private
instructor told me I was beyond hope.”

When she caught her bottom lip between
her teeth, desire slammed into him. What was it about this wanna-be
kitchen diva that captivated him? “If you don’t have the natural
talent, the likelihood you’ll succeed in your craft is small.”
Self-loathing cycled through his gut as her chin trembled with her
effort to keep from crying. “Yet, I do think you show promise. You
must have some sort of talent. The sauce speaks for that.” He took
a gulp of wine then drained his glass. “And you’ve got persistence.
Not many women would battle back after the failures you’ve seen.
But you keep returning for more. I love that determination.” He
admired the hell out of her for that. It would take her far in this
life.

A grin flirted with her lips.
“Thanks.” She stood, gathering up their plates. “You’re welcome to
watch TV in the other room. I’m just going to wash these dishes and
will join you in a few minutes.”