Love on the Run by Anji Nolan

Love on the Run by Anji Nolan

Author:Anji Nolan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, suspense
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2013-05-13T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eleven

It was nine-thirty the following morning when the Morgan and the BMW roadster swept through the Poets Corner gates. A rippling of curtains in the unofficial gatekeeper’s house proved at least one resident was monitoring their departure, and while Scott would ordinarily have proffered a mocking wave, today he was more concerned with putting the community behind him.

Both Scott and Jim were comfortable driving at high speed, and they behaved like kids in hot-rods the entire hundred miles to Phoenix. As they pulled into Poppy’s drive, it was clear the chase-and-tag routine had done more for the guys than at least one of the women.

First onto solid ground, Holly wasted no time. “I swear to God,” she scolded, “if we have to do another long run, I’m driving. The two of you are certifiable maniacs, and it’s a wonder you didn’t kill us all.”

Sidling close to her, Scott draped an arm over her shoulder, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “But what a way to go.”

When Holly approached the roadster, she found Jim and Ilse lip-locked in a world of their own. “Ilse,” she said, tapping on the roof. “I know he probably has to give you oxygen after that hair-raising drive, but leave the beast. I want to show you around the place.”

“You’re just jealous,” teased Scott.

Holly playfully pushed him away. “I’ll deal with you later.”

After Ilse’s tour, Holly led everyone across the garden to what they thought was the pool’s cabana. She unlocked the door, and ushered the group inside.

• • •

“Will I be living here?” Ilse asked, with eyes like saucers. “It’s as big as a house.”

Holly handed her the keys. “It’s all yours.”

“How will I ever be able to thank you?”

“Cook on the nights we don’t go out?”

Ilse beamed. “Absolutely. It’s a passion of mine, and the least I can do.”

As Holly and Scott left, Jim took Ilse in his arms. “You didn’t say cooking was your passion. I thought that was my department.”

“You’ve yet to convince me of that.”

“So do I go back to my lonely room in the main house, or bunk here with you?”

“I might be convinced to let you stay if I’m allowed a little taste of the passion.”

Jim locked his lips on hers, and plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. She responded hungrily, and it was several seconds before they broke apart.

“I’ll have you know,” he continued, “my family owns some of the finest restaurants in Canada, and though I can’t cook, taste is important to me. I have highly sensitive taste-buds.”

Ilse didn’t miss the innuendo. “I can tell, and that’s good.”

“How so, fräulein?”

“It means, in more ways than one, you need me.”

“Of that, there is no doubt.” With everything momentarily forgotten, Jim led Ilse to the bedroom.



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