What's Cooking?
it?" he asked, his expression innocent. "Does thinking about me kissing your knee make you all hot and bothered?"
    "Absolutely not," she insisted, but her cheeks burned at the lie. As observant as he was, it was probably a dead giveaway. He seemed to enjoy taunting her for precisely that reason.
    "Want to talk about something else?" he asked, his gaze focused on her and not on the board, which she was about to control.
    "Please." Although all this talk of kissing was working nicely to her advantage at the moment, maybe she should ignore her own discomfort and keep his mind on something besides Monopoly.
    "Let's talk about that fabulous dinner you're going to make for me when I win this game," Rick suggested before Maggie could return to the topic of kissing. "I'm thinking the lasagna alone won't be enough. We should have garlic bread, maybe a key lime souffle drizzled with raspberry sauce. What do you think?"
    He turned the recitation into something so seductive, Maggie almost dived across the table to smother his face with kisses. He knew the effect he was having, too. She could see it in his eyes.
    "How did I miss the fact that you have this diabolical streak?" she asked.
    "Me?"
    "Yes, you. You turn everything into a seduction."
    He laughed. "What can I say? It's a talent."
    90 90WHAT'S COOKING?
    "It's annoying," she corrected.
    "Then you're not even remotely tempted to toss aside this Monopoly board, forget all those ridiculous rules of yours and make wild, passionate love to me right here, right now?"
    She scowled at him. "Not at all," she lied flatly. "And my rules are not ridiculous."
    "Amazing," he said. "You said all that with a straight face."
    "Because it's the truth."
    "Really? Maybe I'm having a hard time buying it, because being wickedly impulsive is all I want to do."
    "Too bad," she retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting that she was as turned-on as he was. She gestured toward the board. "And you just landed on one of my very high-priced properties. Pay up, Flannery. I think that should pretty well bankrupt you."
    He stared at the board, then at her. "How the hell did you do that?"
    She grinned, filled with an amazing sense of triumph even though it was only a game. At least this was one she was apparently good at playing. "I'm not so bad at distraction myself," she told him. "And I am very hungry for a double-dip cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream."
    "On one condition," he said.
    "No conditions," she protested. "I won fair and square."
    "One condition," he repeated, his gaze locked on her mouth.
    Maggie swallowed hard. "Which is?"
    "Just this," he murmured as he leaned across the
    91 91
    table, scattering hotels, houses and pretend cash in every direction. He claimed her mouth.
    Maggie sighed against him, welcoming the kiss with an enthusiasm that was dangerous. Who needed ice cream when this was the alternative?
    Rick couldn't figure out when a game of Monopoly or Scrabble had become almost as enticing as sex. He couldn't recall a single time in his life, in fact, when there had even been time for games. His mom was rarely sober enough, and there hadn't been anyone else around. The guys he knew were more into hard-driving games of basketball or football than they were into quiet evenings at home. He'd had no idea how relaxing and ultimately stimulating such an evening could be.
    Or maybe it was Maggie who provided the stimulation. She played to win and didn't seem the least bit inclined to let him get away with anything less than real competition, either. He loved trying to slip something past her watchful gaze, just to see the sparks of indignation flare in her eyes.
    He was lying in bed?alone?remembering the Monopoly outcome and the amazingly steamy kiss that had followed, when his cell phone rang. It was so rare to get halfway decent reception that it startled him.
    "Yes?"
    "Flannery, where the hell are you? I've been leaving messages for you for twenty-four hours now," his agent

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