Page 15 of Wanted 2

And he was grinning?

Yeah, the grin melted my anger, a little. I mean, I was glad to see Jeremy so blasted happy, but not at the risk of angering the Count. Rules were rules. And while the Count hadn't explicitly said ‘No Jeremy cooking in the kitchen’ I was pretty sure at least one of his rules covered Jeremy raiding the fridge and making a mess. Somehow.

“What is it?” Jeremy asked, reading my face and turning tense.

I glanced over my shoulder, nervously. “Maybe it’s best not to use the stove, huh?” No point in testing just how kid-friendly the Count was. “If you’re hungry, I’ll make you something.”

I eyed the remains of the Rosemary stalks mixed in all the eggshells. Then the alarm bells went off.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Jeremy hadn’t just raided the fridge. He’d used the Count’s fancy ingredients. He’d even opened the package of Brie and left it in a pile of trash on the corner of the island. The store would be closed before I could get there to buy more.

“Jeremy, what have you done?” I choked. I hurried to the cheese, praying I could salvage some of it, despite the egg whites dripping into the package. Shit. Could you wash cheese?

Jeremy giggled.

I glanced back at him, astonished to see him grinning from ear-to-ear. “That smelled so bad, Kass. Goat cheese is soooo much better.”

“You…can’t do this, Jeremy,” I hissed. “Take off the hat and hand me that spoon.”

“Why?” Jeremy frowned.

Because I’ve already annoyed the hell out of my boss enough this week? Make that, month? And when he finds out—

“Yes, pray tell, why?”

It took a second to register that the deep voice coming from behind me belonged to the Count himself.

Shit. What could I possibly say? My brain went numb. I just stood there, trying my best to concoct an excuse when the Count walked into my field of vision.

What the—

He stood on the other side of the island with a bag of flour in his hand and a white apron tied low over his lean hips. He’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white shirt, and the way the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders made me want to unbutton the rest.

God, he really rocked that apron. Somehow, it just drew my gaze to his thighs, so defined, sculpted. I could imagine those muscles rippling beneath me so sensuously as I straddled him. I caught my breath and with difficulty, dragged my eyes back to his face.

He stood there, watching me with an arched, wicked brow, a brow that told me he’d followed the essence of my thoughts, at the very least, if not the details, as well.

“Would you care to join us?” he asked, peering down at me from under half-hooded eyes.

My insides melted. “I…uh…” Yeah, brilliant response there, Kass.

“The Count is teaching me how to ‘whip up a souffle’,” Jeremy said from the stove.

Right. The stove. I turned toward my brother, mostly to escape the Count’s carnal gaze. After all, I couldn’t risk just what I might do if I held still under that spell for too long.

Then, the sight of Jeremy’s happy face cleared all other thoughts out of my mind. Wow. I hadn’t seen my brother so happy since…well, I can’t recall when.

“A souffle?” I repeated belatedly.

“The Brie cheese was… well, it smelled rotten,” Jeremy continued, waving his wooden spoon at the pot bubbling on the stove. “So, we’re changing the recipe.”

“Indeed,” the Count agreed.

He brushed his hand low over the base of my spine as he passed. I shivered. And I know he saw, because I could see his cheek move into a smile, even at the angle from which I stood.

I didn’t move. How could I? The sight of Jeremy and the Count discussing the recipe tugged at my heart and made me feel all warm inside.