Recipe for Love (Entangled Select Suspense) Read Online Free Page B

dust.
    The scent of onions and peppers, as well as spices from all around the world, filled the room. Sous chefs busily hurried to get the last minute preparations done, while the camera crew walked around, getting the best live shots of the audience, as well as behind the scenes.
    Tom paced the stage. “As you know, there’s a lot at stake here. Personal chefs, you’re men and women who go to people’s homes and businesses to serve the finest cuisine. Have chef knives, will travel.”
    He pointed to a large overhead screen. “First, a short tribute to Maxwell Ethridge, then we’ll see the highlights of last night’s competition.”
    The room darkened. Jordan leaned over to whisper in her ear. “This ought to be good.”
    “Oh, be quiet,” she hissed, turning to watch the video presentation. Luckily their mics didn’t go hot until it was time to judge the entries or the whole world might have heard Tilly chide him like a kindergartner. It should rankle, but instead, Jordan found it charming, as well as fun, to do the grown-up version of pulling her pigtails.
    Ethridge’s picture filled the screen. His artificially white teeth gleamed in a tan face, the hint of gray at the temples of his sun-streaked hair giving him a look of authority. His smile belied the fact that he was a bastard.
    Jordan knew Ethridge’s only joys were food and power. It didn’t matter who he hurt in his rise to fame and celebrity status. They had knocked heads more than once, but Ethridge’s snarky, vitriolic tongue had never bothered Jordan until the critic had written about Tilly.
    Those things sent a wave of guilt through Jordan that settled in his gut. He’d been free and easy with his own insults about her food, too. Maybe he was wrong. Still, the idea of anything smothered in milk gravy made his skin crawl.
    “Ladies, gentlemen, fellow chefs.” Tom went into his excited patter once the house lights came up. “Let’s meet the remaining contestants. As you know, Olivia Vargas lost last night’s contest, leaving three men to fight it out for the opportunity of a lifetime.”
    The camera panned to where she sat in the front row of the audience. The overhead screen captured the fire in her eyes, the dark, spiked hair, and red chef’s coat that echoed the flush of anger on her face. A flesh colored bandage held the middle finger of her left hand firm and upright as if flipping everyone off.
    He couldn’t blame her for being pissed about last night’s elimination, but she had missed the mark as far as he was concerned. Her mango salsa’s flavor of hot to sweet was unbalanced. The pork…well…dry didn’t begin to cover the disaster on his plate. On top of everything, she had managed to cut herself while making the third dish. She wrapped her finger, slipped on a latex glove, and went on with the competition. Once done, The Culinary Channel’s doctor hustled her backstage for stitches.
    Ethridge had eviscerated her in front of the crowd. Jordan could still see the vicious smile on the food critic’s face as he launched into his diatribe.
    I don’t know who taught you to cook, unless it was Jack the Ripper. Your knife work is execrable. He had half stood to lean against the judge’s table with a satisfied smirk on his face. Fellow chefs, don’t let this woman anywhere near your knives. He sank back into his chair and made a show of drinking a glass of water. In case you didn’t know, I’m a supertaster. I could sue you for endangering a national treasure.
    Her eyes had smoldered with anger, but she’d kept her temper under check. Thank you, Chef. She’d given him a quick nod and stepped back in line with the other contestants.
    Tilly had turned to Ethridge. Maybe National Geographic can do a special on your tongue, if it is indeed a national treasure.
    She was the only one who voted to keep Vargas in the competition.
    He suspected the critic had savaged Tilly in his blog this morning because of her audacity, the sheer