Page 45 of The Movie Star and the Spy

She flushed. And his smile grew. And grew. And grew some more. “What type of tasting were you thinking of, Destiny?”

Something very naughty. Something definitely not in the police detective handbook. “What type of tasting wereyoutalking about?” she countered.

“Food, of course,” he gave the obvious answer. “Since cooking is your favorite thing to do, I thought you’d enjoy making something exotic. I found some great cookbooks with interesting recipes.”

She opened and closed her mouth like a floundering fish. Cooking was her favorite thing to do? Yeah, if you countedpressing the minute button on the microwave. Seriously, she didn’t even type the number. Then she remembered her fictitious resume.

“You like to cook, don’t you?” He leveled a heavy gaze.

“Oh yeah! I love to cook. And I’m really, really good at…”Destroying meals. Burning toast.Setting spaghetti aflame.“Cooking. You’re going to love my meals.”I hope you have comprehensive fire insurance.

“Excellent.” He straightened his sleeves. “Of course, I’m not bringing you over to cook for me. I have a chef, but I thought you’d enjoy it since it’s a passion of yours. Besides, I gave the chef and the housekeeper the night off. I know you value privacy.”

Suddenly privacy didn’t sound so safe. What would stop him from putting the moves on her? Okay, fine… what would stop her from putting the moves on him?

“I never have time for something as simple as cooking.” His tone took on a wistful note. “I’d love to help you create something amazing.”

Like SpaghettiOs? Because that was the extent of her cooking skills. Before the night was over, he’d know she lied about something else on her resume. Hopefully he wouldn’t realize just how much.

They made small talk for the rest of the half hour drive. They finally reached the development, which was watched over by multiple guards behind a massive fort-like gate. After gaining clearance, they travelled over an actual moat (seriously, a moat?), past a waterfall and through a series of natural arches created by trellises and climbing ivy. If this was the entrance to the development, what would his actual home be like?

Breathtaking.

The four-story mansion went on and on (and on and on, etc.). Brick with white shutters, sweeping trees and intricate ironwork, the home hailed from the cover of Architectural Digest. Massive flowerpots adorned each window, filled with roses of all different colors. Expansive lawns spread out, broken by flowerbeds and a grotto with waterlilies and a babbling brook. They drove through yet another iron gate, this time, Julian’s personal one, and into a cavernous garage. More than dozen exotic cars gleamed under the lights: a Ferrari, a Lamborghini, a Rolls Royce. She’d never been a huge car enthusiast, but even she could appreciate the vehicle wonderland.

“Do you want to take a ride?”

She knew something she’d like to ride.

Did she just think that?

Yeah, she did.

He cleared his throat, his eyes darkened like the midnight sky. Did he know her unruly thoughts?

“No, thank you.” she quickly replied.

“Too bad.” A ghost of a smile played at his lips. “Too dangerous?”

“No. I just don’t think a ride would be… wise.”

“But enjoyable.”

Oh yes. So wonderfully, exquisitely enjoyable… and absolutely forbidden. “So, how do we get into this house of yours?”

“Through here.” He gestured her forward, placing a hand on the small of her back. They traveled through a long corridor and into a massive living room easily the size of three of her apartments. Ornate furniture boasted carved wood embellishments, under soaring ceilings and windows that reached at least twenty feet high, offering breathtaking scenes of the Atlantic Ocean. “The kitchen is this way.”

The cooking area was no less impressive for its practical function. Cherry wood tables and granite furnishings held state-of-the-art appliances in stainless steel. Hand-painted cathedralceilings made a large space even as the wood provided a homey atmosphere. The breathtaking room was every chef’s dream. She whistled lowly. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you. It gets all the dates. Townhomes everywhere clamor for its attention.”

She couldn’t help it – she laughed. “That was a terrible joke.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“I’m not.” She laughed again.

“Yes, you are.” The mood lightened, and suddenly the world turned a lot less awkward and more comfortable. It simply felt… right. “Ready to get started?” He gestured to an array of cookbooks on the shelf behind her. “Is there one you prefer?”

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