Say Please

By Linzi Basset

Say Please is Book 2 in Their Command Series

Mason Walker is a man of refined tastes. He likes tarts. Crisp, juicy, moist, fig tarts, drizzled with honey.
Mason likes the tart-maker too. She’s juicy . . . full of honey.

Mason is the part owner of the luxurious Silverstone Resort, a brilliant businessman and a gorgeous male specimen. He may appear civilized, but underneath the suave veneer, is a man raging to run wild. He’s ravenous; on the scent of a delicious prey.

Rachel Cooper is a celebrated two-star Michelin chef, making a fresh start in the Colorado mountains, at the resort. She’s quirky― a mixture of sense and sultry. She’s the happiest when concocting recipes and feeding people. Now she has an excellent job and wonderful friends. Life is good. Only problem is her employer, who seems hell bent on making a meal out of her!

Lord have mercy!

Mason wants to devour his prey and savor her sweetness. She’s a breath of fresh air to his jaded senses, with her guileless allure and fiery sensuality.

Rachel was his. To eat, prey, love?

Only if she says please.

As the two of them combust between sheets, an avalanche of emotional demons threatens to annihilate everything in its path. Will Rachel be able to deal with past baggage and find that perfect recipe for love?

Editor’s note: The book is delicious. You’ll be hungry by the time you finish. Order the largest tart!

Note: This series should be read in order to achieve the best reading experience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linzi Basset
• Release date: Sep 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463406533

Linzi Basset

“Isn’t it a universal truth that it’s our singular experiences and passion, for whatever thing or things, which molds us all into the individuals we become? Whether it's hidden in the depths of our soul or exposed for all to see?” Linzi Basset is a South African born animal rights supporter with a poet’s heart, and she is also a bestselling fiction writer of suspense filled romance erotica books; who as the latter, refuses to be bound to any one sub-genre. She prefers instead to stretch herself as a storyteller which has resulted in her researching and writing historical and even paranormal themed works. Her initial offering: Club Alpha Cove, a BDSM club suspense series released back in 2015, reached Amazon’s Bestseller list, and she has been on those lists ever since. Labelling her as prolific is a gross understatement as just a few short years later she has now been published forty-one times; a total which fails to take into account the three other published works of her alter ego: Isabel James who co-authors—nor does it include the five additional new works marked for imminent release. “I write from the inside out. My stories are both inside me and a part of me so it can be either pleasurable to release them or painful to carve them out. I live every moment of every story I write. So, if you're looking for spicy and suspenseful, I'm your girl... woman... writer... you know what I mean!" Linzi believes that by telling stories in her own voice, she can better share with her readers the essence of her being: her passionate nature; her motivations; and her wildest fantasies. She feels every touch as she writes, every kiss, every harsh word uttered, and this to her is the key to a never-ending love of writing. Ultimately, all books by Linzi Basset are about passion. To her, passion is the driving force of all emotion; whether it be lust, desire, hate, trust, or love. This is the underlying message contained in her books. Her advice: “Believe in the passions driving your desires; live them; enjoy them; and allow them to bring you happiness.” Follow Linzi everywhere: https://linktr.ee/LinziBasset

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Author’s Note

DEAR READER,

Their Command series, is my second Dominant/sub novella series, following Their Sub Series.

In Say Please, book 2, Rachel Cooper returned after a brief visit a couple of months earlier. The reason? Mason Walker.

Mason Walker is a man of refined tastes. He’s the part owner of the luxurious Silverstone Resort, a brilliant businessman and a gorgeous male specimen. He may appear civilized, but underneath the suave veneer, is a man raging to run wild. He’s ravenous, and on the scent of a delicious prey.

Rachel Cooper is a celebrated two-star Michelin chef, making a fresh start in Colorado, at the resort. She’s quirky, a mixture of sense and sultry. She’s the happiest when concocting recipes and feeding people. She has an excellent job and wonderful friends. Life is good. Until she crosses paths with Mason, who seems hell bent on making a meal out of her!

Lord, have mercy.

Mason is torn between devouring his prey in one bite or savoring her essence piecemeal. One thing is for sure, Rachel was his. To eat, prey or love?

As the two of them combust between sheets, an avalanche of emotional demons threatens to annihilate everything in its path. Will Rachel be able to deal with past baggage and find that perfect recipe for love?

I hope you’ll have fun reading this super-hot story!

Warm regards,

Linzi Basset

Chapter One

A pair of glasses Description automatically generated with medium confidence

CHEF, YOU BETTER GET out there, the maître d' announced as he marched into the kitchen. The grimace on his face gave away his annoyance.

I warned them against appointing a city slicker in this kitchen but no, they didn’t listen, he grumbled under his breath.

Excuse me, did you say something? Rachel prodded. Her voice vibrated with a chilled warning. She stopped deboning a piece of fish and straightened, holding the knife in front of her as she turned to confront the insufferable man.

He jumped back, his eyes the size of saucers.

Are you threatening me, Chef? he asked in a shrill voice, hands raised protectively in front of him.

Rachel was tempted but suppressed the desire for violence. He’d been testing her patience since the first day she’d set foot inside the Silverstone Resort’s massive kitchens, as the newly appointed Chef de Cuisine.

Enough is enough. It’s been three weeks and I don’t have to suffer his boorish behavior.

What’s the problem, André?

His cheeks puffed up. Rachel did her best to curb her smile as she watched his chest expand in preparation for his upcoming expose. He slammed his index finger into his palm.

First, his oyster starter wasn’t to his satisfaction. Second, he seethed, adding a second finger to his palm, "you served him overdone steak and now, he held up three fingers, you sent him a cold, hot toddy pear dessert. He’s about to explode, he finished with relish. And that is the third evening in a row that you have messed up his orders."

"That does it. If that ... that old timer thinks he can intimidate me by continuously criticizing my food, he has another thing coming," Rachel snapped.

The knife trilled as she planted it with furious intent into the wooden cutting board. The sous-chefs started chattering excitedly as she stormed through the kitchen and slammed past the swinging doors, into the restaurant.

Rachel didn’t have to search for him. She knew where he usually sat because she’d been peeping through the round windows in the kitchen doors. She stomped to his table, her eyes flashing fire.

You have a problem, sir? Her sharp voice could’ve cut through steel.

He continued to cut the succulent pears into bite-size pieces and popped one into his mouth, before he sat back and looked at her. And, wouldn’t you know it, he managed to look down his arrogant nose, even though he was sitting and gazing up at her.

Rachel swallowed hard when her gaze was caught by a look so intense, it took her breath away. Her eyes followed the rhythmic flex of his jaw as he chewed lazily while his brooding look raked up and down her body in a deliberate perusal. He licked the sweet juices from his lips, which caused a shiver to rally down her spine. The memory of that very appendage lashing at her womanly bits that one night—

Focus, Rachel. You’re supposed to be angry with the dratted man, not drool over his sexual prowess.

Well? I’m waiting, she prodded. She shifted her weight in an effort to curb the tremor in her stomach.

Why the devil does he arouse me so easily? Damn it, I don’t even like the man.

Ever heard of opposites attract, Rachel?

Opposites my ass. He’s the devil incarnate!

Do I need to spell it out, Rachel? Mason Walker drawled in his deep, guttural voice. He gestured around. Here, in the middle of a packed restaurant?

Rachel’s lips pinched. Her fists slammed on her hips. She leaned forward and growled into his face, That’s what this is about? You dare criticize my food for no other reason than to force me to acknowledge ...

Her voice trailed off. A spark of anger, at her continued denial, ignited his gray eyes, twirling with heat. The color of his eyes drew everyone to stop and stare. His eyes could go from a smoky gray to luminous silver in seconds.

His head had been completely shaven before, but he’d let his hair grow lately. Her gaze moved to the stubble enhancing his chiseled jaw. This was the new him. He appeared tough and composed, which added to the compelling charisma that had drawn her to him all those months ago. There was a rigidity to his shoulders that warned her he was done with the cat and mouse game.

Yes? Or do you need a reminder? Mason prodded; a slow smile turned his wide mouth up; the anger at her denial dissolved in a blink of an eye.

She frowned at the obvious amusement in his gaze. Almost like he knew how much she’d been suffering over the past five months. How his promise had hounded her for more nights than she could remember.

"Mr. Walker, let me make this as clear as I possibly can, especially as it seems that your decrepit old brain takes a while to compute what I’m saying. I. Am. Not. Interested."

She swallowed when his ropey muscles rippled as he sat forward. His broad shoulders flexed under the perfect fit of his dinner jacket when he rested his chin on his fists. The smirk on his lips turned into a pleasant smile.

Rachel tried to deny how much his rugged good looks affected her; how she longed to delve into his rough exterior and animalistic persona that was hers for the taking.

It seems the lady doth protest too much, I’d say, mate. Or am I wrong?

Rachel’s back went ramrod straight but she refused to acknowledge the man behind her. Mason’s gaze turned to molten steel.

No, Logan, you’ve hit the nail on the head. It makes me wonder what our little chef is trying to hide from us. Could your sexy little pussy be craving this old timer’s cock, my sweet? Mason taunted her in a soft whisper meant only for her ears.

The rivulets of red wine were already dripping over his face, staining his pristine white shirt before she realized that she’d upended a glass of wine over his head. The collective gasp from nearby diners sounded explosives to her ears.

She took a cautionary step back as Mason pushed up from the chair. His tall body towered over her as he stared at her through slitted eyes.

Shouldn’t have done that, little chef, Logan Chase, Mason’s friend, and co-owner of the resort, thought to enlighten her in her ear.

No shit, Sherlock, she mumbled and then, she turned tail and ran. Her breath came in small puffs, hot and nervous as she forced her legs to move faster, imagining the heat of his body close on her heels.

His long legs kept up with her without effort and she suspected Mason had deliberately allowed her to tear through the dining room and into the kitchen.

Don’t you dare touch me, Mason Walker, Rachel cried breathlessly, putting the first countertop between them. Her heart thumping, she sprinted left and right around the different workstations in an effort to avoid his grasping hands. The sous-chefs gawked at them. She began to panic. She’d seen the wicked amusement in his gaze, and it was beginning to worry her.

Shit! Rachel cursed when she reached the back of the kitchen. The only exit from there was into the short hallway leading to the staff restrooms and her office. You bastard, she puffed, realizing he’d deliberately been pushing her into a corner.

She forced her legs to move faster in an effort to reach her office and lock the door before he caught her—all to no avail. He slammed the door back and her in the process.

Rachel stumbled backward; her hands held out protectively in front of her.

Stay away from me, she warned, sounding a lot braver than she felt. If only she’d had the foresight to grab one of her knives!

You upended a glass of wine over my head, Rachel.

Well, of course I did. What did you expect after making such a ... a vile comment? The words came out in a breathless wheeze as Mason finally pushed her back against the wall with his hard body pressed into her soft curves.

Vile? Or the truth, my sweet? At least I’m honest about what I feel, unlike you, who keeps running away.

I’ll have you know, Mason Walker, there is a vast difference between feelings and what you’re experiencing, she clipped while desperately trying to wiggle her hands between their bodies to push him back. His closeness was slowly chipping away the iron control she’d managed to lock around her heart and her libido