"What the hell do you mean you can’t cook?" Joe demanded.

"Just what I said," Maddie replied.

His brows jerked together. "You mean you can’t cook elaborate meals, right? You can fix easy items. Like... You can grill a steak, yes?"

"No."

"Scramble some eggs?"

"Not a chance."

He glared in exasperation. "Boil water? Do you think you could do that?"

"You don’t have to be so sarcastic. I could boil water if forced to. But the only thing I need it for is coffee and I have a machine that does that."

"Then how do you feed yourself?"

"It’s simple." She marched past him and snatched up the rolodex centered on the kitchen counter. "I pick a card and dial a number. Thirty minutes later there’s a knock at the door. I answer, pay the delivery man, then sit down at the table and eat what he’s brought. Voilà! I get fed."

"Please tell me you’re joking." He took the rolodex from her and flipped through it. "You’re not joking. Dio! You know all the delivery men by name. And what are these dates? Do you keep track of when they come?"

"No. Those are their birthdays," she muttered.

"Their--" He seemed to have trouble breathing. "And the names in parentheses?"

"Their kids."

"Gumdrop? Larry from The Parthenon named his son Gumdrop?"

"Oh. That’s his dog. He doesn’t have kids."

"And this?" He pointed to a notation on one of the cards. "What is this beside Chet’s name?"

She blushed. "Blue scarf. "That’s..." She cleared her throat. "That’s what I knit for him last Christmas. A blue scarf. He doesn’t like red."

Joe closed his eyes. "Of course, he doesn’t. I should have realized."

"Kevin’s the one who prefers red." She flipped to the next card. "See?"

"What the hell do you do, adopt every delivery man who comes to your door?" When she remained stubbornly quiet, he ground his teeth in frustration. "And what about your almost-fiancé, Tupper? Does he realize you can’t cook?"

"Not yet."

"You have to be joking! How have you managed to pull that off?"

"Most of the time we go out," she reluctantly confessed. "But the few times I’ve had him here, I’ve had the food delivered before he arrives and then warm it up."

"And throw away the containers so the fiancé-to-be doesn’t see them?" Her silence was all the answer he needed. His expression grew forbidding. Clearly he didn’t approve of concealing such important information from the man she planned to marry. "What an interesting relationship you two have," he observed dryly.

"Our relationship is none of your business!"

"You’ve made it my business," he flashed back. "Explain something to me, Maddie. How do you expect to prepare this dinner if you don’t know how to cook?"

"That’s why I have you, remember?"

"I thought you needed my help to practice the menu!" he roared.

"I do!"

"You don’t need help. You need to have your head examined!" His accent increased on par with his exasperation. "These are difficult dishes. When you said you were having trouble with the menu, I assumed you expected me to offer some pointers or to show you how to handle some of the trickier recipes. You didn’t say anything about teaching you how to cook."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Well, now you know I need a little more than just pointers."

"Can you even operate the stove?"

"Yes," she snapped. "I just turn one of those round knobby things."

"One of--" He closed his eyes. "Oh, very good, Ms. Wallace. Excellent. You know to turn one of those round knobby things. And then what? Dio, you don’t even have a pot to... To...cook in!"

"I can buy a pot."

"Tell me something, if you’d be so kind. How do you expect to learn all that’s necessary in less than three weeks?"

"I didn’t think it would be that hard."

"Really? Not so hard? If I came to you, never having so much as balanced my checkbook, could you teach me to be an accountant in that short a time?"

She winced, his question hitting the mark with uncomfortable accuracy. "Are you saying you won’t help?" He bit off a rather rude exclamation, then followed it up with a steady stream of rapid-fire Italian. She waited until he ran out of breath before asking, "Is that a yes or a no?"

"What the hell do you think?" He glanced her way, then groaned, his anger fading as swiftly as it had flared. "Don’t look at me like that."

"I’d appreciate an answer," she said as dispassionately as she could.

"You know nothing about cooking and expect me to teach you how to prepare a five course meal in less than three weeks. And you’re doing all this for a man you hope will ask for your hand in marriage. A man, I might add, you clearly don’t love--"

"I do so!"

"--and who knows nothing about you."

"That’s not fair--"

"Oh, really? What happens after you’re married and he discovers how you’ve been deceiving him? Don’t you think he’s going to be a little upset when Larry and Gumdrop pull up with that evening’s dinner?"

"I’m not deceiving him. I fully intend to tell him I can’t cook." Her chin jutted out. "Eventually."

"I think we’d better call it a night."

She shot him a nervous glance. "Are...are you coming back?"

Joe released his breath in a gusty sigh. "Yes, sweetheart. I’m coming back. I’m you’re Christmas wish, remember?"

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Because there’s no point in attempting this recipe when you don’t have the basics we’ll need to get started." He glared at her empty cupboards. "A pot, for instance. Which reminds me... Before I go, I’d like a spare key to your house."

"Why?"

"So I can let myself in while you’re at work. Tomorrow I’ll hit the stores and drop off the necessary supplies before going to the restaurant."

"You don’t have to do that," she protested, overwhelmed.

"Yes, cara. I do. I know what I want and where to get it. I also tend to be rather particular about the ingredients I use." Humor returned the gold highlights to his eyes. "Besides, ordering supplies is part of my job. We’ll get started tomorrow night. Agreed?"

"You’re still willing to help me?" She couldn’t quite believe it.

His expression turned serious. "I won’t desert you, Maddie. I gave you my word and I’ll honor it."

She could feel the threat of tears again and turned abruptly away before he saw them. It would seem he had the same attitude toward commitment that she did. "I’ll get you a spare key."

At the front door, he hesitated. "I have a request to make."

"Sure. Anything."

His hands settled on her shoulders and he squeezed gently. "There is nothing you can’t tell me. Nothing you can say that will drive me away. So from now on I ask that you be honest with me. No matter how difficult you find it, tell me the truth.

He didn’t wait for her response, which was fortunate. Because the instant he left, she burst into tears.

Related books:

Meet Joe Milano in his debut appearance in A Wholesale Arrangement!

To read more about Mathias Blackstone and the mysterious Christmas wishes he grants, don't miss Her Secret Santa

Read the first Gem Book:  The Twenty-Four Hour Bride

You met Jacq Randell in Her Secret Santa, now read her sister, J.J.'s story in The Miracle Wife

From the book:

"A Man For All Seasonings"

CHRISTMAS TREATS

An anthology with Penny Jordan and Lindsey Armstrong

Harlequin Books–November ’98

ISBN:  0-373-83371-7

"Day Leclaire makes a potent magic, penning sure keepers with dynamite characters, riveting scenes and a glorious plot." Quote by reviewer, Shannon Short, Romantic Times magazine.

Copyright © 1998 by Day Leclaire.  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.  For more romance information surf to: http://www.eharlequin.com