Demons Like It Hot (28 page)

“Not a good time, I bet. Sorry that happened to you.” Daniel flashed a reassuring smile. But just how reassuring was it? “I’d be happy to show you around town. You wouldn’t have to drive at all.”

“That’s a nice offer. I’ll keep it in mind.” She pointed down at the bowl. “These eggs aren’t going to whisk themselves.” She shoved a whisk into Daniel’s hand.

“Oh, man. I’m going to end up with arm strain,” Daniel said with a smirk.

“No one ever said cooking was easy.” She grinned. “Continue whisking until it’s smooth.”

“I see how you are, making your guest do all the work.”

Serah shrugged. “You’re the one who said you never made this before. I was just helping you out.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Seriously, you’ve been doing this show for how long and you’ve never made tiramisu?”

Daniel whipped the mixture with expert precision. “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

“Guess that time is now.”

“I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

“You’ll have to wait a few hours for the custard to set.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“I know, right.” She looked into the bowl. The frothy mixture formed large, fluffy peaks. “The filling is just about done, so you’re almost there.”

Daniel tapped the whisk on the side of the bowl, allowing the mixture to plop inside. “What’s next?”

“We have to soak the ladyfingers.” Serah took a seat at the counter and grabbed the package of ladyfingers. Ripping open the plastic, she sucked in a deep breath. She needed to tell him sooner or later. It might as well be now. “So I talked with Lucy, Rafe, and Matthias.”

Daniel set down the whisk and bowl. “And?”

“Lucy and Matthias stay.”

“Sally’s going to freak,” Daniel said with a shake of his head. “But I’ll talk to her.”

“That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Okay. Well, let’s finish this up. I have a few errands I need to run, so I can use the down time to do that.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She just hoped Rafe had his phantoms lined up in time.

***

“I’ve located Nigel and Rupert.” Rafael’s voice boomed in the phone. “They said they have about five or six other phantoms that they can send.”

Matthias nodded. “Good.”

“I know you are not someone who enjoys working in the background, but right now it’s for the best.”

“I was just going to check on Serah anyway.”

“Where’s Lucy?”

“She had an important client who came into the shop unexpectedly.”

“That’s a rather strange coincidence.”

“It was her mother.”

“As always, her mother has impeccable timing.”

“So this is a common occurrence.”

“You can say that.”

“So it’s just me and Serah then?”

“After I brief Rupert, Nigel, and their phantoms, I’ll zap back.” He paused. “Otherwise, you can always call Kalli.” Rafael chuckled. “Then again, she might scare Daniel away.”

“Scare him away?”

“Let’s just say Kalli looks like she’d fit better in a tattoo shop than a beauty parlor or a black tie, catered event.”

“Sounds scary.”

“She’s anything but. Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty, but she’d rather hide behind dreadlocks, tattoos, and leather and lace corsets.”

“There’s a term for that, right?”

“Some people call it Goth, but she’s a bit edgier than that.” Rafael snorted. “To be honest, she makes her own style.”

“Sounds like an interesting character. Go ahead and let her know to keep alert.”

“Trust me, she’s good at it.” The phone cut out for a second. “Lucy’s on the other line. Hold on a second.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks.” With that, the phone clicked, and Matthias was left listening to dead air. He took a seat at the desk and propped his feet up on the corner. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was going stir-crazy in this cramped office. Every minute with Serah not in his sight drove him further over the edge. Every minute drove him closer to despising Daniel Blackburn and this stupid television show.

As if in ironic answer to his twisted prayers, the door swung open. Serah, chef’s hat askew, strode through the door.

“Dude, I know I told you to make yourself comfortable, but isn’t that a little extreme?”

Juggling the phone on his ear, he stifled his grumble. “Sorry. My legs got tired.” He took his feet off the desk and swiveled in his chair. “I’m holding for Rafe.”

Serah nodded. “Daniel’s leaving for a few hours. Hope your phantoms are ready.”

“Rafe’s on the other line with Lucy.”

“I just got done talking to her. She’s probably telling him the same thing I just told you.”

So he was the last on the chain to get notified? Was this where her priorities lay? “So you felt it necessary to call her first before talking with me?”

“I was on my way to tell you. It’s a force of habit to call Lucy first.” Shaking her head, she raked her hands through her corkscrew curls. “I seriously didn’t think it would be a big deal. Sorry.”

She took another deep breath of air. “I thought Rafe was in charge of this operation anyway. Why are you so concerned? I’m still safe.”

“Rafe is in charge of the overall mission. My mission is to protect you. Anything that has to do with your protection concerns me.” Why was he taking this so personally? Lucy was her best friend. Of course she’d go to her first.

“Noted.” The ire in her voice cut into him like his favorite dagger. Damn it. He could never do anything right when she was around. How was he supposed to complete this mission?

“I apologize, Serah. I’ve not had a mission like this in some time.”

“What sort of missions are you used to?”

He wasn’t ready for these questions. Not now. Hopefully not ever again, if everything went according to plan. He’d do his part and then take that mission in Siberia if he had to. He needed to get away from her before it was too late.

“Nothing a woman of your caliber should ever have to burden yourself with knowing.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Oh, but it could. It would destroy any chance of redemption he’d had. If he were Serah, he wouldn’t forgive him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Serah nodded. “Believe me, I understand. More than you realize.” She exhaled a deep rush of air. “I can tell that you blame yourself for something.”

Shit. She was starting to remember. That was why she was taking this angle. She wanted to dig in deeper. He couldn’t risk it. “It’s a common habit, actually—demons and humans alike. Not much to talk about.”

“I see.” Serah pushed a curl behind her ear. “Sorry I didn’t run the news by you first. I am actually going to prepare dinner and wanted to know if you liked something in particular.”

“Anything will be fine. As long as it’s not hardtack.”

“I learned how to cook at the River City Culinary Institute, not in a Civil War army camp. How does lasagna casserole sound?”

Casserole? Was there any meal that could not be made into a casserole? He might not be up on the whole culinary scene, but he’d heard quite a bit about casseroles over the years. He wrinkled his nose.

“Why does everyone always turn their nose up at the word
casserole
?”

“It’s a bunch of leftovers thrown together in a dish.”

“Don’t let my Nonni hear you say that.”

“What’s so special about your casserole?”

“Do you like lasagna?”

Matthias nodded. He’d eaten it while on a mission in Italy during World War II, guarding one of the Infernati’s most infamous minions. “I haven’t had it in a while, but it was tasty. I ate it when… never mind.”

Serah blew out a frustrated breath.

Just because he wasn’t that forthcoming with his personal stories of woe didn’t mean he couldn’t do his job. He gritted his teeth.

“It’s still lasagna, just made a little differently.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.” She raised her chin defiantly. Bloody hell, he hated when she did that. It drove him mad.

The phone clicked back over. Bloody hell twice over. Leave it to Rafael to cool his lust. “Still there, Ambrose?”

“One moment.” He covered the receiver. “Deleon picked back up.”

“I suppose you want some privacy so you can continue your manly talk of battle plans and strategies?”

“Something like that.”

“Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that she spun around and marched out the door.

Matthias winced. It was for the best. The less she knew about him the better. He took a deep breath and went back to the phone. “Serah just told me Daniel left to run a few errands. Are the phantoms ready?”

“As ready as they can be.” Rafael chuckled. “Rupert and Nigel almost turned me down, until I told them who they would be helping.”

“Oh?”

“It appears Serah has quite the fan club at the soup kitchen.”

Matthias arched an eyebrow. “Umm, should I ask?”

“Apparently no one makes soup quite like her.”

Matthias shook his head, a smile curving his lips. That didn’t surprise him in the least. If she cooked as good as she looked, he was done for. He’d get the chance to sample her skills in a bit. At least he could taste one thing Serah offered without being strung up by his fingernails. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t tried her cooking yet.”

“Too bad.”

“You don’t need nourishment to survive though.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to turn down a home-cooked meal. Especially one cooked by Serah SanGermano.”

“Why not eat your fiancée’s food.”

“I’m not quite certain it is safe for demon consumption.”

Matthias cringed. “Lucy lets you talk this way about her domestic skills?”

“She’s the one who said it, not me.” Rafael cleared his throat. “But back to business. I’m going to discuss our plans with our two British phantoms. I’ll call back in an hour.”

“Sounds good. Be safe.” With that, he ended the call.

He exhaled long and hard. No. Those two had it all. An open and honest relationship. He’d never have that with Serah. That sort of honesty would only send her further away. Right now, that was the last thing he wanted.

What was the deal with that man? He had to be the biggest ass she’d ever dealt with. Well, not far from it. But part of him intrigued her. To the point of distraction. Not a good thing where heat and flame were involved.

She cranked off the water and heaved the stock pot from the sink. Lugging the heavy pan to the stove top, she grumbled beneath her breath.

“Let me help you with that.”

And there went her concentration. His spicy, woodsy scent wafted through the air and right up her nose. She inhaled deeply. God, she loved that scent.

Stupid
man!

“I’ve got it,” she said. Water sloshed and splashed, hitting her in the face.

He came to stand behind her. “I insist,” he said, his breath inches from her ear.

She shivered. Her body melted. Her hands shook. More water sloshed over the side and splashed onto the floor. He needed to stop whatever it was he was doing… before she did something she would regret.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, Matthias.” The pot slipped in her hands.

“Just let me help you,” he whispered.

Serah’s breath caught. Her pulse raced. Her body, of its own volition, pressed back against him. As her body melded into his, she gasped. He was just as turned-on.

“I… I banned you from the kitchen,” she breathed out, her hands trembling. The water continued to slosh over the side.

“Did you?” He snaked his arm around her and pulled her closer, grinding his hardness against her backside. Heat pounded its way through her body, from her head right down to the tips of her toes. Electricity zinged across her skin. What on earth was he trying to do?

“I’m going to drop the pot.”

“Are you?” Not a man of many words, was he? And her words were fleeting as well. More energy roared through her body. Her fingers tingled.

This sort of energy wasn’t safe. It was volatile. It would burn her to a crisp if it continued. But her body made up its own mind. She leaned her neck back, her head resting on his chest. “What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing,” he said with a quick nip to her earlobe. It was a wonder that she still managed to grip the pot handles. “Serah, turn around and give me the pot.” He chuckled, the rumble reverberating through her body. “I do know how to at least boil a pot of water. There’s no grease involved, right?”

Serah managed a nod. So this is how he pushed his way into her kitchen? Seduction? Sadly, it was working. Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and turned to face him. His onyx gaze burned brightly, despite the darkness. She held out the pot, her hands still shaking like leaves in a windstorm. Matthias reached out, his hands brushing hers. Who knew a simple act of handing someone a pot could evoke the most intense sensations.