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Tasting Pleasure Page 2


  Oh Lord, she thought to herself, what have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Two

  Simple Cheesecake

  1/2 cup graham cracker crumbs

  1 Tablespoon sugar

  1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

  2 Tablespoons melted butter

  Combine ingredients and press into the bottom of an 8-inch spring form pan.

  5 eggs beaten until thick and lemon yellow colored

  1 cup sugar added gradually to the eggs until thick and smooth

  3/4 lb. cottage cheese (12 oz)

  3/4 lb. cream cheese (12 oz)

  Add both of these to the egg mixture.

  Gently add grated rind and juice of 1 small orange.

  Bake in a 350 degree oven for 1 hour or until set. Remove and cool completely before removing from pan. Best served chilled.

  The next week came and then the next, with no change in her feelings toward Mr. Devonshire. The man was devastatingly handsome and charismatic as well. While she was certainly attracted to him, she was also a bit afraid. Today, on her third visit to Mr. Devonshire’s home, Alicia’s mind fluttered between wanting to hurry through the clean-up so she could leave before he arrived and an insane desire to stall so she could see him again.

  “Get a grip, girl,” she told herself. “He’s just a client—okay, an important and sinfully attractive one, but still…”

  Alicia jumped in surprise when she felt hands on her shoulders.

  “Lord!” she squealed.

  “No, not a lord—not yet anyway. Although there were some rumors floating around in the family that a great-great cousin had been involved with a duke.” Maverick chuckled as he massaged her shoulders. “You were so busy talking to yourself that you must not have heard me. You seem a bit behind schedule today.”

  “I’m very sorry, sir. The cheesecake takes a while to set, and I wanted to be sure that it turned out okay before—”

  Maverick placed a finger on her lips. “Shhh, don’t get so excited. It was just an observation. I’m not at all disappointed to see you, my dear. Tell me, do you always wear your hair in that prim style?”

  “Yes, I mean, no. I mean I do when I’m working, but I usually let the braid hang down my back otherwise.” Would she never stop babbling? Alicia ran a nervous hand over her head, feeling the braided bun hiding beneath the scarf.

  “I’d like to see it down,” Maverick said. “I’ll be in the den. Stop by after you’ve finished. Remove the scarf and have the braid unpinned—if you don’t mind, that is.” He flashed an absolutely sinful smile before walking away.

  Alicia stared in disbelief as he left the kitchen. Why would he want to see her braid unpinned? And when did her knees suddenly become like jelly? Perhaps a better question would be why was her hand reaching up to remove the pins in her hair? Within a few moments, Alicia had finished in the kitchen and loosened her braid, the end of which brushed against her lower back. Again she rapped lightly on the den’s doorframe.

  “Lovely,” Maverick said. “I’ve poured a glass of sherry for you. Drink it.”

  “Thank you,” Alicia murmured as she held the glass and slowly lifted it to her lips. She rarely drank, so why did she feel compelled to do so now? The sweetness of the wine slid easily down her throat, leaving a trail of warmth in its place. She had to admit that after working in the kitchen all day combined with her nervousness, the sherry was most welcome. “Turn around,” Maverick said.

  Alicia complied.

  “Lovely,” he commented again as he grasped the length of the long, chestnut-brown braid and ran it through his hands.

  Alicia closed her eyes and sighed. She’d always loved when her ex-husband had run his hands through her hair. She felt Maverick’s breath on her cheek as he leaned against her.

  “You are a beautiful woman,” he said. “You should not hide your charms.” Maverick then ran a hand down her side and along her hip. “I hope you do not think me too forward.”

  “Nooo, of course not,” she whispered.

  She trembled slightly as Maverick’s hand crept a bit lower, grasping her skirt and slowly pulling it up past her knees. How long had it been since she had reacted so strongly to a man? Never?

  “Yes, that would be a better length for you. Next week, wear a shorter skirt and when you finish in the kitchen, let your braid down,” Maverick instructed.

  “Okay,” Alicia answered, amazed that her knees quivered again and butterflies gathered in her stomach.

  “Good. Finish your sherry then and be on your way. I’m sure the small amount of wine will not impair you,” Maverick said as he released her.

  * * * *

  A shorter skirt! A month ago Alicia could not have imagined herself shopping for new clothing of any kind—let alone a short skirt. Her father would roll over in his grave if he knew what she was doing. If you look after the pennies, the dollars will take care of themselves! That was one of the many dictums that had led her father’s life, and one that she followed herself—especially now.

  She had moved to England as a new bride, thrilled with the attention Jeffrey had lavished upon her. When Jeffrey had announced he wanted to move back to his home after their wedding, Alicia had readily agreed. After all, since her parents’ deaths in that awful car accident, she had no other close relatives, just one cousin who lived in Springfield, Illinois, and few friends to leave behind. The idea of a new husband, a new life, a new country seemed wonderful.

  The wonder had lasted less than six months though. Despite Jeffrey working late almost every evening money had been tight. Alicia had offered to find work, but Jeffrey had laughed at her, asking who she thought would hire a simple American bumpkin. After that, Alicia hadn’t brought up the subject again. Instead, she concentrated on keeping a tidy home and managing their small budget. Soon enough, she and Jeffrey argued about money. It infuriated her to see Jeffrey splurge on expensive shoes and cologne for himself, when she scrimped and saved to purchase necessities for their home.

  To add insult to injury, Jeffrey no longer seemed interested in her sexually. As it turned out, there was a reason for that. Apparently, she wasn’t Jeffrey’s type. Six months after saying I do, Jeffrey said I don’t. On a rainy Tuesday in February, Jeffrey calmly announced that he had never really loved Alicia and was leaving her for his lover—Hector. Never having been the jealous type, Alicia could have understood Jeffrey wanting a bit of variety. In all truth, even though she herself was heterosexual, the idea of two people of the same sex exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies held a fascination for her. But to say he didn’t love her—never had—that was completely unacceptable! He, Jeffrey, would generously allow Alicia two weeks to find a flat and clear out her things. Further, he would pay for the first two months’ rent, but after that, she was on her own. Alicia had been so humiliated she didn’t bother to resist. The sooner it was over, the better. She had considered moving back to America, but not only did she not have the resources, she had no real reason to return home.

  Now, after carefully watching her money, shopping at thrift stores and end-of-season sales, she had a modest savings account and a fledgling business. Thanks to Mr. Devonshire, she also had gained two new clients this week alone. Perhaps she could afford to splurge just a bit, she decided as she sighed over a short, black, pleated skirt. Holding it up to herself, she noted that the length hit her thigh at the exact spot Mr. Devonshire had indicated. She smiled to herself, remembering the low-cut white blouse that had been part of her bridal trousseau. She had never worn the sheer top—Jeffrey hadn’t approved of such revealing clothes. Revealing apparel, however, might please the handsome Mr. Devonshire.

  Chapter Three

  Easy Tortellini Soup

  1 package frozen tortellini or any filled pasta

  1 small onion, chopped

  1 large carrot, grated

  1 bunch flat-leafed Italian parsley, chopped

  2 cloves garlic, chopped

  1 Tablespoon extra virgin olive oil<
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  1 teaspoon each thyme, sweet marjoram, oregano

  6 cups vegetable or chicken stock

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Using a stock pot with a thick bottom, add olive oil, all vegetables and herbs. Cook until tender (onions will be transparent). Add stock and frozen tortellini. Simmer, covered, until warmed through.

  “If you have a moment, Mr. Devonshire, I have a few questions for you,” Alicia began.

  “Of course, Alicia. Come in, sit down,” Maverick said. He stood and waited for her to sit on the sofa before he took his seat again. “What can I do for you?”

  Get a grip, Alicia, she thought. You’ve practiced what to say all day!

  “Well, I, ah, I…” she began. Why did he stare at her as if he could see right through to her soul? “I was wondering if you would like a change in menu.” Whew—now that wasn’t so hard.

  “Alicia, relax. I want to eat your food—not you—although that thought does hold some appeal.”

  Alicia felt herself blush right down to her toes.

  “You have a new skirt. Very nice. The blouse is lovely as well. Tell me, did you wear that all day?”

  “No, actually, I brought it along and changed into it about an hour ago. I don’t know why I did that, but I certainly couldn’t wear white and prepare a marinara sauce.” She laughed nervously.

  “So, you changed to please me,” he deduced.

  That gave Alicia pause. “Yes, I suppose I did,” she slowly answered.

  Maverick simply stared at her.

  “Unbraid your hair,” he commanded.

  Alicia gasped. The only time she allowed her hair freedom was to wash it or brush it. Jeffrey, to her knowledge, had never seen her hair unbound.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I told you to,” Maverick answered.

  Slowly Alicia nodded. She pulled the heavy braid over one shoulder and removed the securing band. With deliberate care, she unraveled her long tresses for Maverick’s viewing. She took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves as he continued to stare at her.

  “Why do you keep it so long if you refuse to unbind it?” he asked.

  “Because my father once told me that he thought my hair was beautiful. I promised him that I would always keep it long. I loved him dearly and fully intend to keep that promise. Still, hair this long can be an inconvenience, so I bind it to keep it clean—and out of the way when I’m working.”

  “Ah—a woman of her word. What an admirable quality. Stand up and turn around. I want to see the entirety of this beauty.” Without hesitation, Alicia complied. She clenched her jaws as she tried to control the panic rising within her. Would he like her hair? What did he think of the skirt? Why did any of this matter? But somehow, it did matter. Right now, the most important thing in the world was that her appearance pleased Mr. Devonshire. She glanced over her shoulder, desperate to know his reaction.

  “Now, now. No peeking,” he whispered.

  Alicia whipped her head back around, but not before she saw him begin to rise. She felt his breath on the top of her head as he looked down at her. She sagged with relief when he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “I have a proposition for you, my dear,” he quietly said. He ran his hands up and down her arms, gently massaging out some of the tension. “The decision is yours. And of course this is a separate proposition entirely from our current agreement involving your culinary skills. I count myself a sharp businessman and I’d be a fool to dispense with your cooking services. That soup you prepared last week—with the filled pasta in it—was wonderful.”

  “Thank you. It was a recipe from my grandmother. I take it that my cooking pleases you, then?” she asked.

  Maverick laughed. “Now would I have recommended you to two of my friends if it had not? Your culinary skills are equaled only by your thriftiness. You offer a top-quality service at a modest price. No, my dear, this would be a completely separate arrangement. Do you want to hear about it?” He lifted her hair slightly and ran his hand along the nape of her neck.

  Alicia almost moaned from the pure pleasure of his touch.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Each Friday, after you have finished your duties, attend me here. You will wear what I tell you to wear, do what I tell you to do, say what I tell you to say,” he said.

  “And in return for this?” she questioned. Truthfully, Alicia knew the answer. She also knew that she would do whatever he wanted of her.

  “And in return, I will teach you how to please a man, namely me, and how to find yourself in the process.” He ended with tiny kisses along the back of her exposed neck.

  “Yes,” she answered quietly.

  “Yes? Yes what?”

  “Yes, Mr. Devonshire. I would like to attend you,” she responded with more strength in her voice.

  Maverick laughed. “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes,” she promised.

  “Good. And I know you are a woman of your word. I expect compliance. If, for any reason, you fail to comply with even my smallest request, I will remind you of that promise. You do, of course, have the power of choice. You can say no. But remember, with every choice comes a consequence.”

  “I’ll remember,” Alicia answered.

  Alicia suddenly felt bereft as Maverick’s body moved away from her. She started to turn around then thought better of it.

  Again, Maverick softly laughed. “You’re a quick study. I like the skirt. It’s a beginning. I like red. Next week, wear a red skirt and make sure it’s shorter. Pair it with a black top—one of those with the thin little straps on the shoulders. Black heels as well—at least three inches. No knickers either, even if you’re on the rag. A tampon should do the trick if that’s the case.”

  Alicia’s shoulders slumped. She had stretched her money to the breaking point with the purchase of this skirt, how could she afford another skirt and a top and shoes? Maybe this wouldn’t work out after all.

  “Problem?” Maverick asked.

  Unsure how to answer, Alicia nodded.

  “Alicia, do not hesitate to speak to me. Just remember to address me respectfully.”

  “It’s just that I’m a bit—well—financially strapped at the moment,” she began. If the threatening tears slipped down her cheek, she was sure she would die of embarrassment. She was grateful that she faced away from him so he could not see her shame.

  “How silly of me! I apologize, my dear. You misunderstand. I was simply speaking my thoughts aloud. I will, of course, provide you with all you need. Have no fear of that. All you need do is follow my instructions—to the letter.”

  Alicia sighed with relief.

  “Now, turn around. Good. Remove your blouse,” he commanded.

  Alicia hesitated. Had she really heard him correctly? When she saw his eyes harden at her delay, she suddenly realized this was what she had always wanted. Jeffrey had never pleased her because he had not commanded her respect. Alicia had never felt this flash of passion with any of her boyfriends—not that she’d had many. Still, the few encounters she’d had with men had left her feeling dissatisfied. However, looking into Mr. Devonshire’s unyielding eyes convinced her that she could find fulfillment with this man. She smiled hesitantly and unbuttoned her blouse, dropping it to the ground behind her.

  Maverick nodded his approval. “Next time, do not delay. Now remove the bra.”

  Alicia reached behind her, quickly unhooking her bra, allowing her generous breasts to burst free.

  “Walk to me,” Maverick commanded as he seated himself.

  Alicia took her place directly in front of him, her breasts even with his mouth.

  Maverick grasped her hips, forcing her even closer to him. Without preamble, he trapped a nipple with his teeth, drawing it into his mouth. Alicia gasped with shock and pleasure. No one had ever sucked on her nipples before! Jeffrey had grudgingly mauled her breasts, and one young man had kissed them, but—Oh God—she could feel her stomach drop and her
breath quicken. Alicia closed her eyes, drowning in the sensations of this new and very pleasant assault. As Maverick’s tongue wrapped around her nipple and he sucked, Alicia pulled his head to her and cried out. Her legs trembled as she began to come. Maverick made a sound, almost a laugh, as he reached under her skirt and yanked off her knickers. When his fingers plunged inside, she could control herself no longer. Waves of pleasure shot through her as her eyes flew open, but she saw only bursts of brilliant, swirling color. If Maverick’s strong arm had not been around her waist, Alicia would have slumped to the floor when he pulled out his fingers and loosened his grip on her nipple. Once she was steady, he released her and stood.

  “Now turn around and bend over,” he commanded.

  “Of course,” Alicia whispered as she shakily complied.

  “Place your hands on the ground.”

  Alicia had barely touched the floor when she heard the telltale rasp of a zipper. Maverick placed his smooth, strong hands on her hips, cradling her as he buried himself inside her. Alicia cried out again, drowning in the pleasure of this man’s touch. He drew back then thrust in again, his lips brushing her spine, one hand sliding up to massage her breast. His fingers tugged gently at her nipple, and she moaned as he took up a steady rhythm, driving deeper each time. His thumb worked the taut bud while his other hand caressed down her stomach, over her mons and found her clit, sending her senses spiraling once more out of control. The rasping of his breath reached her and as the shockwaves of the orgasm crashed through her, she felt the heat of his explosion deep within her.

  He stayed inside her for a few moments then pulled out, helping her to stand upright. When she bent to pick up her knickers and blouse, he stopped her.