Page 137 of The Nanny and the Hothead
He pondered the question as they strolled down the sidewalk, breaking free of the carnival crowd. “Yes, this is a real event.”
She balked. “That’s it? That’s what you’re giving me?”
This was starting to feel like that moment in a horror movie where the crowd starts yelling,don’t go with him! It’s a trap!
“You’re not a serial killer doubling as a chef, are you? This isn’t how I meet my demise?” she rattled off.
Mitch chuckled, then stroked her palm with his thumb. “We’ll be back in Denver bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“So, we’re spending the night somewhere other than the house?” she asked, not exactly channeling Nancy Drew with that caliber of question, but it would have to do.
“Did you think I rented a helicopter to take us home?” he asked with those stupid blue eyes glinting with delight. He was enjoying this.
“No, of course not!” she shot back.
For the record, the man was acting out of character. Mitch was about the plan, the order, the regimented flow. This impromptueventwas way out of his wheelhouse. And not only that. It had never been just the two of them. Erick and Sergio were with them most days, and Oscar was with them at night. Yes, he went to bed at eight, which gave them the evenings. But there was always the chance he’d need them during the night. They had to be quiet and careful.
“What can you tell me about this evening?” she asked, changing tack.
“We won’t be sleeping at the house,” he replied—again giving her nothing.
The loud whirring hum of the helicopter’s blades signaled their arrival at the hotel. She stared up as the copter’s blinking lights flashed against the night sky.
“You better not be a serial killer,” she mumbled under her breath as a doorman waved them inside. They entered the swanky space to find a man in a crisp suit making a beeline toward them through the lobby.
“Ah, Chef Elliott, right this way,” he said, ushering them toward the bank of elevators.
“You know him?” she whispered.
“I may or may not have agreed to be a guest chef here for a night,” he replied.
“They let you land a helicopter on their building because you said you’d cook for them?”
He gave her that boyish, panty-melter of a grin. “Some days, it doesn’t hurt to be famous,” he whispered back as the elevator pinged and the doors opened. They entered, but the man in the suit didn’t join them.
“The elevator will take you to the top floor. From there, you’ll need to take the stairs to the roof. We look forward to chatting with you, Chef.”
“My people will be in touch,” he answered as the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent.
She studied her mysterious chef. “This feels very cloak and dagger.”
“Look at us,” he said, lowering his voice as he leaned in for a kiss. “The nanny and the hothead are making a break for it.”
She closed her eyes as Mitch’s magical mouth sent her body into a wild swirl. She pushed her camera out of the way, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck. His rock-hard cock pressed against her, and instantly, all she wanted to do was him. She tangled her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, panting with desire when apingcut their make-out session short.
“I should have picked a taller building,” he said, dusting the corners of her mouth with a kiss.
She peered out of the elevator and spied a small barebones room with concrete walls. A set of cement steps rose from the ground, leading up to a metal door. She untangled her fingers from Mitch’s hair, then hit the stop button on the elevator.
Confusion marred his features. “What are you doing? The chopper’s waiting.”
She pursed her lips. “Listen, I’m relatively sure that this isn’t another elaborate kidnapping attempt. But you have to explain this to me. I’m not getting on the helicopter unless you tell me what’s going on.” She narrowed her gaze. It was time to be that feisty redhead. “And no funny business, mister! I know you tried to scramble my brain with that super sexy kiss. But I’ve got two functioning brain cells left that aren’t ready to jump you right here in this elevator until you talk.”
“Every cell in your body except two want to do me? Not bad!” he commented, looking quite pleased with himself.
“Mitch!” she huffed.
“Okay, first of all,” he began with a sly grin, “I take issue with calling thisanotherkidnapping attempt. I never kidnapped you. You incorrectly assumed you’d been abducted.”
