A New Foundation Rochelle Alers (read aloud .txt) 📖

He glanced down at his shirt. “I’ll take one as long as it doesn’t have ruffles.”

Sonja made a sucking sound with her tongue and teeth. “Sexist.” Turning on her heel she went to the pantry to get one of several aprons she’d bought. She wore an apron when cooking because it was something her mother said every woman in her family always did whenever they cooked.

“This one is a little large for me, so I double it up and tie it twice around my waist.”

Taylor unfolded the apron and smiled when he saw what was printed on the bib. “Kiss the Cook?”

Sonja rolled her eyes upward. “Yeah. It was the only one left, so I was forced to buy it.”

He slipped it over his head, secured the ties and beckoned to her. “Come here, babe, and kiss the cook.”

She took a step back. “Stop it!”

“Not until you kiss the cook,” he crooned.

Sonja rested her hands at her waist. “And if I don’t?”

Taylor stalked her like a large cat. “You don’t want to know.”

Then with a motion too quick for her to follow, she found herself in his arms, her feet several inches above the floor and her mouth covered in a kiss that stole the very breath from her lungs. Her arms went around Taylor’s neck to keep her balance, and she found herself kissing him back, her tongue as busy as his as she tried to get even closer. It had been so long, much too long since the passion that lay dormant had flared to life. She heard a deep moan, not realizing it had come from her. She was on fire—everywhere, and Sonja knew Taylor was the only one to extinguish it.

It did not matter that she worked for his family and that her career and the next two years of her life depended on the man with whom she had fallen inexorably in love. Sonja had known Taylor was someone she never should have become involved with once she recognized him as T.E. Willis. Although he had left the world of modeling where he’d become an icon, she’d had second thoughts about working for Taylor Williamson, the engineer.

At first she thought her attraction was because of his gorgeous face and perfect masculine body, and then she chided herself for acting like an adolescent obsessing over her favorite actor or performer. After all, she was a woman in her midthirties who had been married and now was mature enough not to go, as her mother said, gaga over a man who had made a name for himself in his chosen field.

The more time she spent with Taylor the more she liked what he presented. He hadn’t come on to her like some men she’d worked with or who had come into the gallery. He was the perfect gentleman that she was certain her mother would approve of. And she’d never had a man ask permission to kiss her. Hugh thought it was his right to kiss her when she wasn’t expecting or even ready for the gesture the first time they were alone together at his house. He’d believed because she’d agreed to come to his home that she would agree to anything. She had come close to punching his lights out when he saw her expression and apologized profusely. His apology had been enough for her to agree to see him again, unknowingly to her detriment.

But it was so different with the man holding her to his heart. He respected and treated her as an equal, for which she was grateful. Sonja had lost count of the times she’d told herself that she liked Taylor as a friend, but that inner voice told her she was a liar, that there was nothing friendly about her thoughts. In fact, they bordered on erotic fantasies, and that when she’d told herself she was sex-starved it was because it had been almost ten years since she’d slept with a man.

Taylor had been forthcoming when he admitted he wanted to sleep with her and had given her the option of acting or not acting on it. What he hadn’t known was the second time she saw him she’d wanted to jump his bones.

“Taylor.”

“What is it?” he whispered against her mouth.

Sonja felt the runaway pumping of his heart against her breasts and knew if he didn’t let her go she would shame herself when begging him to take her upstairs and make love to her. “You have to let me go.”

“What if I don’t want to?” He’d released her mouth and pressed his mouth against the column of her neck.

“You have to, because I’m not ready for this.” Her statement must have gotten through to him. He loosened his hold on her body and lowered her until her feet touched the floor.

His eyes appeared abnormally large under the recessed lights as his chest rose and fell heavily as if he’d run a grueling race.

“Do you think you’ll ever be ready?”

Sonja knew it was time for honesty if she hoped to have an open and uncomplicated relationship with him. “Yes. Please give me time to get my head and heart together.”

Taylor stared at her from under lowered lids. “Take all of the time you need, sweetheart. After all, we have two years to get it right.”

“You’re right.” He was giving her more time than she needed.

“I don’t know about you, muñeca, but I’m hungry as a horse, so let’s get to cooking.”

Sonja couldn’t believe she had eaten so much. The stuffed clams were the best she’d ever had, and there had been more than a few in her life when there were more bread crumbs than chopped clams. Taylor had cooked bacon until crisp and then crumbled it and set it aside while he sautéed onion, pepper and garlic until tender. He had then combined bread crumbs, oregano, grated parmesan cheese and the sautéed vegetables with the fresh chopped