Shaking her head, Pet straightened, but her mind was still squealing. The man was just so damned gorgeous. And he hadn’t controlled her the night before. And he hadn’t been rejecting her today. And she had no business being interested in an immortal. They were nothing but trouble. But he was so damned sexy! And he made her pulse race and her body scream with interest. And he’d said the answer would always be yes, and she so wanted to ask that question.
What was she going to do? How was she supposed to not melt into a puddle at his feet or throw herself at him? And he’d been in her bedroom! And why had she decided she wasn’t supposed to ask that question anyway? She was finding it hard to recall now with her lips still tingling from the feel of his mouth brushing hers as he spoke. And—
“What?” Parker’s shocked question sounded from down the hall, interrupting her mind’s mad bouncing around inside her head. It was followed by a horrified, “Nooooooo!”
Frowning, Pet started toward the hall just as Parker came hurtling out at her.
“When you said you’d see to dinner, I didn’t think you meant actually cooking it. Please tell me you aren’t cooking! Please,” he cried pitifully, collapsing against her with his face pressed to her stomach and his arms wrapping around her upper legs. “Please, Aunt Pet, I’ll be good I promise. Don’t punish us so.”
Pet scowled down at the little twerp as Santo came out of the hall too. His expression was shocked and alarmed until she growled, “Ha, ha, very funny, Parks.”
“I’m not being funny,” he protested earnestly, pulling back to peer up at her. “You can’t cook, Aunt Pet. You’ll kill us all.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Pet muttered, beginning to flush now with embarrassment. “I’m just making chicken Caesar salad, Parker. It will be fine.”
“How old is the salad dressing?” Parker asked at once.
“What? I don’t know,” she admitted, clucking her tongue with irritation when he pulled away and moved to her refrigerator to search for the dressing. Sighing, Pet turned to Santo and reminded him, “I did mention I’m not much of a cook.”
Head stuck in the fridge, Parker snorted with derision. “The last time she cooked for me I was sick for two days. Food poisoning.”
“It wasn’t food poisoning,” she snapped. “You just had a tummy bug.”
“Food poisoning,” Parker insisted firmly. “And the time before that, she made chocolate chip and bacon cookies.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said quickly, knowing her cheeks were probably red as apples now. “There was no bacon in them.”
“No, there wasn’t,” Parker agreed. “But you made them with bacon grease. They were disgusting.”
“It was the only fat I had,” Pet said defensively, but could feel herself heating up even more. If her face wasn’t cherry red now, she’d be surprised.
When Parker turned his head and arched one of his little supercilious eyebrows at her, she grimaced and glanced to Santo as she explained, “My sister, Quinn, is always on some diet or other. All she ever has in the house is green stuff. I wanted to make Parker cookies, but of course there was no butter. Not even margarine or shortening. The only fat in the house was the bacon I’d brought with me for Sunday breakfast, so . . .” She left the sentence unfinished and shrugged helplessly.
“So you fried the bacon and used the leftover grease to make cookies?” Santo guessed.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Pet said defensively and then wrinkled her nose and added, “Mind you that was on a Saturday night after two or three glasses of wine.”
“It wasn’t a good idea,” Parker assured her.
“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed and then glanced to Santo and admitted, “They really were disgusting. But in my defense, that’s around the time they started that campaign claiming everything is better with bacon so I thought it was worth a try.”
“Everything doesn’t include chocolate chip cookies,” Parker said dryly, backing out of the refrigerator with the Caesar salad dressing in hand.
“Yeah, well, they put bacon on donuts now,” Pet pointed out, and then bit her lip and tried to think when she’d bought the dressing he was now scanning in search of an expiry date. Surely it hadn’t been that long ago? she thought, but sighed with resignation when he turned to her with his aha look. “What’s the expiry date?”
“June.”
“There,” she began with relief. “This is June. It’s fi—”
“Of last year,” he interrupted dryly.
“Right.” Pet sighed the word and then moved to the phone. “So . . . pizza? Again?”
“Yes, please.” Parker threw the salad dressing in the garbage under the sink and hopped out of the kitchen, headed for his room and Mrs. Wiggles.
Pet scowled at his disappearing back, and then glanced to Santo as a low chuckle rumbled from his throat. He’d been grinning since Parker had started blabbing about the chocolate chip and bacon cookies. A mistake her nephew was never going to let her forget, she was sure. Still, her humiliation was almost worth it to hear that deep rich sound, Pet decided as something inside her vibrated in response. Giving herself a shake as her call was answered, she raised her eyebrows. “So? What do you like on your pizza?”
“Whatever you normally get,” he said easily.
Pet nodded and began to speak to the waiting worker on the phone, doubling her usual order and then tripling it as her gaze slid over the huge man. It wasn’t until she hung up that Pet remembered him saying that he didn’t normally eat except for raw eggs and meat. Frowning, she started putting away her groceries, considering what she had as she did. She’d bought steaks and could cook them to feed him, she supposed.
“You look troubled,” Santo commented, moving up beside her to help put the groceries away. “What are you thinking?”
“I just remembered that you don’t eat except for meat and raw eggs,” Pet admitted as she stretched up on her tiptoes to place a can of soup on an upper shelf. “I could grill up a steak if you’d rather, or—” The offer died in her throat when his hand closed around her fingers, and then he took the can from her and set it on the shelf for her before urging her around to face him.
Pet stared at the middle of his chest until he cupped her face and lifted it so that she had to meet his gaze.
“It is very sweet of you to offer to cook for me,” Santo murmured, brushing his thumb lightly over her lower lip.
The small caress sent tingles rushing through her again, and Pet’s lips parted slightly on a small sigh. The moment they did, he slid his thumb farther forward to run between both lips, once and then twice.
“But I would rather not suffer food poisoning.”
The words were so unexpected that it took Pet’s mind a moment to register them, and then her eyes shot to his and she caught the wicked teasing grin on his face. She didn’t even think, she simply bit down on the tip of his thumb. It had been meant to punish him for teasing her, but instead the action made him burst out laughing. He also withdrew his thumb, but then he pulled her close, pressing her face to his chest as he chuckled.
Pet scowled at his amusement and drew in a breath to lambast him for his bad behavior, but then paused as his scent assailed her senses. Damn, he smelled good. She didn’t think it was a cologne or body wash. It just smelled too . . . organic. That was the only word she could think to describe it. There was nothing chemical to it, no floral undertones. He smelled clean and masculine, cool and spicy at the same time, like a walk in the woods or standing on a mountaintop with the sun beating down and a cool breeze brushing your skin at the same time. Pet inhaled deeply, unconsciously sliding her hands around his waist and pressing closer.
Pet was so distracted by her attempt to fill herself with his smell that she didn’t notice when Santo’s laughter faded and he went still. She gasped with surprise, though, when he suddenly caught her by the waist and lifted her off the floor. He turned at the same time so that he could set her down on the island counter next to the sink.
Cheeks pinkening, Pet started to open her eyes but stopped with them half open when his mouth covered hers. She then let them drift closed again. Her lips parted slightly at the gentle caress. She slid her arms around his neck and then moaned, her back arching as his tongue swept through the opening to explore what she offered.
Pet hadn’t forgotten the shattering passion she’d experienced during their first kiss in the Caprellis’ kitchen, and still she was shocked when it exploded between them again so quickly. Overwhelmed by the force of it, she tightened her arms around his neck and basically held on for dear life as his mouth devoured hers, his lips and tongue feasting on the passion they were stirring to life.
When his hand suddenly closed over one breast, kneading her through her bra and shirt, Pet groaned and arched into the caress, her bottom rising slightly off the counter. Santo immediately slid his other hand under her behind and urged her farther forward on the countertop until their lower bodies rubbed forcefully together.
Moaning at the pleasure now bouncing through her, Pet wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him tighter still, and then began to tug at his T-shirt, trying to pull it out of his jeans and drag it upward so that she could reach beneath and touch his beautiful chest. But Santo caught her hands and stopped her.
When she broke their kiss to protest, Santo growled, “Parker.”
“Oh,” Pet breathed, understanding managing to push through her passion-soaked brain. Parker. Of course. Just kisses, no clothing removal or touching. Parker could come out. She’d barely reasoned that out when Santo’s mouth found hers again. This time, though, his kiss was a gentle grazing of his lips over hers, as if he were trying to cool them both down. But when Pet’s breath slid out on a sigh in response, his mouth opened slightly as if to catch it and then moved over hers again, applying more pressure before his tongue slid out to lightly trace where her own lips barely met. Pet opened at once, inviting a return to the passionate kiss he’d first given her, and Santo gave into the request with a groan. His tongue filled her, sweeping away any common sense Pet had managed to grab ahold of.