Page 20 of Kiss of Smoke

Alec’s face was kind. “I think that’s a very positive way of viewing the whole situation. I’m proud of you, Chloe. Not many people could hold themselves together after an experience like that.”

Proud of me. Something told me that wasn’t going to be my mother’s reaction. Throat tight, I said, “Thank you, Mr. Murray.”

“Alec, lass. Just Alec.”

But I like the sir. Maybe we’ll keep that.

The dark words rolled through my head, overlapping the ones he’d just spoken aloud. The Alec in front of me faded, replaced with Dream Alec who lifted his head from between my legs, his mouth glistening from my sex. I blinked hard. For a moment, the two Alecs merged, and the whine of a jet engine filled my ears.

“Chloe?”

Like the flip of a switch, the vision vanished. The real Alec stood on the other side of the counter with two plates of steaming breakfast food in front of him. As the scent of cooked bacon hit my nose, my stomach lurched.

“I…” Sweat broke out across my forehead.

He frowned. “What’s wrong, honey? You’ve gone pale as a sheet.”

My mouth watered uncontrollably as my stomach pitched. “The food,” I said weakly.

He moved fast, removing the plates and rushing to the sink, where he held a towel under the tap. Then he was at my side and pressing the cold cloth against my nape as he rubbed the small of my back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He sounded contrite, as if he was somehow responsible for my nausea.

I tried to say “not your fault” but it came out so garbled he probably didn’t catch it. Talking made things worse, so I clamped my mouth shut and concentrated on not vomiting on his kitchen counter.

Slowly, the queasiness receded.

He seemed to sense it. “Better?”

“Yes.” Except I’d embarrassed myself all over again. No wonder Lachlan had to leave for “business.” I was supposed to be the men’s assistant. Instead, they’d ended up looking after me.

“You stay put,” Alec said. “I’ve got a miracle cure for nausea.”

His trilled meeracle, along with the purposeful way he bustled off, made me sit up and smile. “A miracle cure? If this works, you should bottle it and sell it.”

“It works,” he said airily, his back to me once more.

This time, I kept my gaze squarely on his shoulders. Not that it did much good, considering his upper half was just as sexy as the lower. As if my body wanted to prove a point, it started humming with desire again.

Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? While I had a healthy enough sex drive, I was hardly a nymphomaniac. Yet here I was getting turned on just moments after nearly puking.

He turned and set a plate of toast in front of me.

I stared at the neatly cut wedges. “This is toast.”

“No. It’s dry toast.”

“This is your miracle cure?”

“Aye.”

He looked so proud of himself, I covered my mouth to hide my smile.

A reddish-gold eyebrow went up. “Laugh all you want, lassie, but that’s a miracle on a plate.”

Meeracle. If his body didn’t tip me over the edge, his accent would.

He folded his arms and nodded toward the toast. Clearly, he wasn’t going anywhere, so I sighed and took a cautious bite. When my stomach stayed calm, I took another and then another, and then suddenly I’d finished an entire wedge. And I felt…pretty good, actually.

Alec’s handsome face was smug. “Admit it, lass. That’s miracle toast.”

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