Seducing the Baker (At First Sight) by Janet Lane-Walters Page B

blanket, sat and patted the space beside him.
    “I’ve heard their food is wonderful.”
    “Do you mind staying here?”
    She shook her head. “The food looks and smells wonderful.” She sat beside him.
    He kissed her hand and ran his tongue over the palm. “If we’d gone to a restaurant there might have been a fight for your attention, I wanted this evening for us.” He rested his hand on the silky fabric of her dress. He caressed her thigh.
    Grace caught his hand. “Not so fast. I’d like to taste some of the food. We were so busy today I had no lunch.”
    “What’s under your dress?”
    “My skin.” She grinned.
    A jolt shot to his cock. He leaned forward and feasted on her mouth. She melted against him. Finally he raised his head. “Sure you want food?”
    “Yes.” She slid away.
    He lifted a curried shrimp and held the morsel to her lips. She bit and chewed. “Delicious.” From another container she held an oyster. ‘Not that you need this.”
    He laughed. “True.” He sucked the morsel into his mouth. “A taste of the sea and the bite of cayenne.” He reached for the wine. “I hope you like rose.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t drink.”
    “Why not?”
    Sadness filled her eyes. “My mother did. Men paid her for sex with booze and drugs.”
    He recalled Lauren’s remarks about Grace’s children. “Tell me.”
    “Men came. They seldom stayed for more than an hour or two. I hid in the closet so I couldn’t see what they did. I couldn’t escape the sounds, the smells or the arguments and beatings.”
    Jules hugged her. “No life for a child.” There’s been no violence in his early years. Guilt and shame came later.
    She drew back. “Every night I prayed for an escape. When the men left she yelled at me. Sometimes she hit me. When I was eight she died from drinking and drugs. She was twenty-eight.”
    Tears spilled over her cheeks. Jules set the wine aside. He kissed her lightly and wiped her tears. He rose and filled the wine glasses with water.
    “You don’t have to forgo wine.”
    “I want to.” When they made love he wanted them to have equal control. He brought their joined hands to his mouth. “My mother couldn’t live with what my father had done and what other people said. She killed herself.”
    Grace squeezed his hand. “Something we share.”
    Jules recalled the day he’d arrived from school and the dramatic note his mother had written. Her pain, her shame and her anger slashed words across the paper. She’d never mentioned her son.
    “What about your father?” he asked.
    “I never knew him. He was one of her men.”
    Jules cupped her chin. “I thought I knew my father but I didn’t. He was a crook. Two weeks after my mother’s death he had a heart attack and I was alone.”
    “No relatives either?” Grace asked.
    “Distant cousins who refused to take me in. Guess they thought my presence would contaminate them. During the past year they’ve called but I ignore them.”
    He leaned forward and kissed her. A tight band gripped his chest. He didn’t know what drew him to her but he intended to ride the wave to the crest.
    Grace reached for a tapa and offered him a bite. He drew her fingers inside. Soon they fed each other laughing as they shared a long strip of crab seasoned with garlic butter. They nibbled until their mouths met.
    For a time they concentrated on eating. Grace pushed the dishes away. “I can’t eat another bite. Why did you buy so much?”
    “Greed. Everything sounded and looked so good. I kept ordering one more appetizer. We’ve done a good job of demolishing the lot. I usually don’t indulge like this.”
    She rose and began gathering the empty plates. “I do. A holdover from my childhood. There were days when I had little so sometimes I eat too much.” She carried empty containers to the small kitchen.
    Jules rose and gathered the uneaten items. “We’ll save these for a snack later.”
    She laughed. “Good thought. I’m glad