Read Miami Spice for Free Online Page B

Turning, she
found her host in close proximity, almost too close. She smelled
his fresh, Oriental-inspired scent, and when she dared to meet his
gaze, she found his eyes muted to a soft shimmer.
    “Would you like to help me in the kitchen?”
he asked with an almost sensual lilt in his tone. “You look like
you could use a break from observing Gianni’s den of inequity.”
    Erica laughed. “Do you know about your
brother’s reputation with the ladies?”
    “Unfortunately yes, but let’s curtail that
discussion.” Slipping his arm through hers, Nico brought them back
to the kitchen.
    Erica caught the aroma of spicy sausage and
found her host had just fried some chorizo in a skillet. She stood
by the stove and waited for Nico to give her instructions. When he
pulled together several ingredients, he beckoned for her to come
join him at the counter.
    “The dip is actually my mother’s recipe, part
chorizo, part salsa, and a little of sour cream mixed with her
secret ingredients. The chips that go with it are actually sesame
pita rounds. A bit different from your normal tortillas.”
    Handing Erica the spatula and sour cream
container, he invited her to scoop the contents into a large
ceramic bowl. As she did so, Nico included some sliced shallots and
a cup of pico de gallo —or rooster’s beak in English—an
aromatic and coarsely chopped combination of onions, tomatoes and
chili peppers. As she added and blended, Erica became well aware of
his own spicy heat and how the scent of his palatable masculinity
quietly competed with the other kitchen odors. Suddenly, as his
arms came around her waist, he took hold of her hand with the
mixing spoon.
    “Now,” he murmured against her hair and
helped her to stir with languid strokes, “we gently mix it all
together and then add the special blend of spices.”
    From then on, Erica had no idea what happened
next as her host added a pinch of this and a soupçon of that. She
felt nothing but a wild fire course between her legs and move with
rapid haste up her neck. Finally, when his closeness became too
much to handle, she excused herself and ducked under an arm.
    “A little too hot in here,” she professed as
she fanned her face and leaned against the counter, making sure to
shuffle a few feet away from his sweetly cloying presence.
“Besides, too many cooks spoil the dip as they say.”
    “No problem!” Laughing, he gave her a quick,
provocative flash of his eyes. “I’ll finish up here. Why don’t you
sit down and pour us the wine?”
    Her host had laid out the pita chips on the
coffee table along with a bottle of Chardonnay and two long-stemmed
goblets.
    When he joined her on the sofa, Nico brought
the dip in a smaller glass bowl and took up the glass of wine she
had poured for him. Trying not to appear too anxious, Erica dug
into the mix and enjoyed the tangy and sweet combination of
flavors.
    “I suppose,” Nico ventured as he sipped his
drink, “that it’s ‘get to know you’ time. At least, I’d like to get
to know you better, Erica.”
    She sat back, comfortable now. “I noticed the
paintings in the bedroom. Are they your handiwork?”
    He donned a broad smile. “Guilty as charged.
It’s my little hobby.”
    “They’re wonderful! Have you sold any of your
work?”
    “Here and there. I own a gallery in
Bridgeport, but I don’t feature my own stuff. I guess you can say I
travel in various circles, some artsy, others inclined toward
business and investments.”
    “Like your brother.”
    “Yes, like him.” Reclining, Nico stretched
his long legs to the side, and then placed an arm across the
backrest of the sofa. “You can say Gianni always had the business
sense, while I kept my head in the clouds.”
    Erica joined him in a smile. “Sometimes
that’s a good place to be.”
    “Not all the time, especially when the bill
collectors come to call, but I manage to get by. Right now, I’m
scouting around the galleries here. Who knows? I might pick up