Cooking Class

By V. J. Devereaux

Lily Cavanaugh did it the hard way. She'd apprenticed under Master Chef Evan Taylor until he threw one temper tantrum too many.
She was madly in love with him but so was every other woman who worked for him. So, she walked away, built her own restaurant and her reputation.
Then Evan and the director of his new TV show, Dylan Bryant, walk into her restaurant to offer her an intriguing proposition and new possibilities, not just with Evan but with Dylan as well. When Evan's past comes back to haunt them, though, it puts them all their lives in danger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Valerie Douglas
• Release date: Feb 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458182876

V. J. Devereaux

V.J. Devereaux is a prolific writer and a genre-crosser, much to the delight of her fans. A fan of authors from almost every genre - she is the author of five star rated contemporary and paranormal erotic romance novels, including Cooking Class, Demon's Kiss and the Night Owl Reviews Top Pick, Cherry's Jubilee. As Valerie Douglas she's the writer of the Kindle bestselling fantasy novel The Coming Storm, but she writes fantasy of all kinds - classic, epic, historical and contemporary - as well as romance, suspense and horror novels. Who knows what will pop up down the road!Happily married, she's companion to two dogs, four cats and an African clawed frog named Hopper who delights in tormenting the cats from his tank.For more information on this author, please see her website www.vjdevereauxbooks.com.

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Cooking Class

By

V. J. Devereaux

Cooking Class Copyright © 2010 Valerie Douglas writing as V. J. Devereaux

Cover art by The Cover Counts

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from author.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

License Notes

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Discover other titles by Valerie Douglas

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The Coming Storm

A Convocation of Kings

Heart of the Gods

Servant of the Gods

Romance

Dirty Politics

Directors Cut

Irish Fling

Lucky Charm

Picture Perfect

Nike’s Wings

The Last Resort

As V. J. Devereaux

Available through Ellora’s Cave Publishing

Night Moves

Cherry’s Jubilee

Special Delivery

Demon’s Kiss

Dedication

To Erin, Anne Marie, Elizabeth and all my beta readers, thanks so much!

To the First Responders and EMTs everywhere, with my thanks for the lives you save every day.

And, of course and always, most of all to my beloved and patient husband (who says I’m schizophrenic, but it’s like having a different wife every night.)

Chapter One

The door at the front of the restaurant opened. Lily looked around the dining room, puzzled. All the students for her cooking class had already arrived. They were clustered around the small gas burners and simmering pots and pans at the utility station, hard at work. She held the class out here in the dining room once a week while the restaurant kitchen was cleaned. The space was redolent with the aromas of brown sugar, cinnamon, raspberries, all the slightly sweet scents of the dessert sauces the students were preparing as the project for the night’s class.

When the restaurant was open this was the station where the staff carved prime rib or prepared specialty desserts like Cherries Jubilee. She’d turned the workstation lights up so her students could see what they were doing, but left the rest of the lights off since the restaurant was closed. The brightness tended to cast the rest of the room in darkness. She looked up, slightly dazzled by the intensity of the lights and started to tell the newcomers the restaurant was closed.

Until she saw who one of them was.

Her breath caught, shuddered in her chest at the sight of the man who’d just walked into her restaurant. The line from the old movie Casablanca suddenly ran through her mind.

Of all the gin joints in all the world…

She couldn’t be seeing who she thought she saw. It couldn’t be him. Her heart twisted, the pain surprising, catching her off guard.

If her students caught sight of that all too familiar sculpted face or she said his equally familiar name she’d have a minor riot on her hands at the very least.

Clearly, the two men realized that as well. At the sight of her students they stepped quickly into the shadows at the front of the room and she shut her mouth just as swiftly. A few heads turned to look, but they were as blinded by the lights as she’d been.

Mentally she shook herself and redirected her attention to her class. Cooking was a joy, one she loved to share. She also loved to pass that pleasure on to others, to share her passion.

A kitchen was the one place she’d always felt comfortable as a child. Surrounded by all those amazing aromas she’d listened to the cooks talk while she waited for her mother to finish serving tables. That love was the reason she taught this class, but cooking could also be dangerous. The sugar in these sauces would cling and burn if spilled. She couldn’t afford to be distracted around them or around the gas burners and the little pots of fuel.

Somehow she managed to unscramble her senses enough to walk her students through the remainder of the lesson despite the way her pulse hammered wildly.

It was impossible. He couldn’t be here. It had to be her imagination, but all she had to do was look into the shadows to see the outline of that familiar, distinctive face and she knew it wasn’t. Those cheekbones and that sensual mouth didn’t belong to any other man.

Most of her students had been instructed to park at the back of the restaurant, but there were always one or two who forgot, which was why she’d left the front door unlocked. With reminders to them about where to park, she escorted her students out through the now clean kitchen, deliberately ignoring the two men who waited in the shadows at the front.

On the way back, she poured herself a steadying glass of wine, took a sip then straightened her shoulders and walked back out into the restaurant.

Her restaurant. Cavanaugh’s Place. This was her place, her home ground. Even so, for a moment, facing those two men, she didn’t know what to do or say.

She’d never imagined this, not in her wildest dreams. Her heart was in her throat, but she wouldn’t show it. She didn’t dare.

Hello, Evan, she managed finally. To her own ears her voice sounded surprisingly even.

They stepped out of the shadows.

Her heart wrenched and her breath caught at the sight of them. Of him, once again.

Master Chef Evan Taylor, enfant terrible of the kitchen, the host of his own cable cooking show and the man with whom she’d been madly and silently in love. In that she’d hardly been alone, half the female staff had been in love with him, and one or two of the male.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t dated in the years since, but she’d also been busy building up the restaurant, starting her cookbooks. The years had flown by. Even when she had, though, there’d always been something missing – that sense of towering passion and drive only a few possessed. Like Evan. Driven and ambitious herself, she needed someone who understood that.

She’d never been aware of being lonely, she had her clientele, knew her regulars by name and enjoyed stopping at their tables to talk. Over time she’d learned how to casually deflect questions about her personal life.

The other man she knew only from seeing him in television interviews with Evan – Dylan Bryant, the director of Evan’s show.

For the moment, though, her gaze was locked on Evan. It had been so long since she’d seen him. The sight of him rendered her silent.

Nothing had changed. He was still gorgeous, one of the most handsome men she’d ever known and even to say that was an understatement.

From the tumble of dark hair that spilled over his forehead to his incredibly sculpted features – perfect cheekbones, long-lashed blue eyes as clear as a highland lake and that firm mouth – he was simply beautiful. His face was incredibly expressive. It could transform in a breath from cool elegance to fierce and furious Scottish laird, seemingly barely tamed, especially when he went into one of his rages. Which was frequently.

One of the most famous chefs in the world, he was enormously talented, incredibly creative, brilliant and volatile.

Had the thousands of his female fans known how well she’d once known him Lily knew she would’ve been the envy of them all. She’d once been blessed to see him with his shirt off – a quick impatient change of clothing in the back of his restaurant for a charity event – and could testify that the photos taken by the paparazzi didn’t do him justice. His chest was more perfectly muscled than it appeared in those pictures, his abs lean and firm, utterly delectable. Her mouth had watered and her pussy had dampened instantly just at the sight.

He was also as passionate, fierce and dedicated as he appeared on TV.

Like those thousands of other women, Lily had adored and admired him. Wanted him.

If she was honest with herself she still did. The instant he’d walked in the door her panties had gone damp and her nipples had tingled. Attraction had never been the issue.

She never thought she’d see him again, not here, not anywhere. Certainly not in her restaurant, and yet here he stood.

Lily, he said in response to her greeting.

His voice was as deep as she remembered, slightly accented, as rich as scotch and just as warm. Just the sound of it made her heart twist. That was ridiculous. The last time she’d seen him he’d shouted at her to leave, to get out.

So she had.

Leaving had cost her everything she’d worked for and broken her heart, but she’d done it. She’d had to and not just because he’d ordered it.

The other man held his hand out hastily to cover the awkward moment.

Ms. Cavanaugh, I’m Dylan Bryant. I’m a huge fan of your cookbooks.

He took her hand in his, his handshake warm, not too firm, not too soft. There was strength in it, and control.

It’s a pleasure to meet you, he said and smiled. Evan’s told me a lot about you.

She looked up into a pair of eyes the color of fine sherry – a deep rich gold. Her body flushed in response to the intensity in them as his hand tightened a little around hers.

To her surprise, up close she found Dylan Bryant as intriguing as Evan. It shouldn’t have been so unexpected, after all he was an incredibly attractive man with an engaging on-screen personality. And that was before she’d met him in person. That personality was even more magnetic up close.

I know who you are Mr. Bryant, she said, all too aware of him and her hand in his.

Ever since they’d announced the series Evan’s show had been Lily’s private obsession. Although she wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone she’d recorded every episode and watched every interview she could find.

For the first time and in Evan’s presence, Lily was surprised to find herself distracted by and as attracted to a man as she was to Evan. If someone would have told her that could happen she’d have said it was impossible. She’d tried for years, unsuccessfully, to forget him.

Tall and blond, Dylan Bryant was a handsome man in his own right, his thick golden hair straight where Evan’s was wavy, his features more refined, less craggy than Evan’s. Judging by the hint of muscle and the lean abdomen revealed by the drape of his casual polo shirt, he was just as beautiful underneath it.

There was something about him though, something she’d only caught glimpses of in those TV interviews. In person, Dylan Bryant had a charm, a quiet intensity and graciousness that enveloped her, wrapped her in warmth.

She’d wondered how he handled Evan’s volatility. Now she understood. He was the balance to it. Dylan was the calm, Evan the storm, yet both were just as passionate in their own way.

Until she’d met Evan, she’d never believed in instant attraction.

Now there was Dylan.

Maybe the attraction to Evan had finally worn off? Just a little, enough for her