Free Pure Iron by Holly Bargo Page A

and you’ll get better, much better.”
    Sonia’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in awe.
    The chef’s eyes twinkled as he continued, “I know you’re on your honeymoon, but I would like you to begin, say, in one month?”
    She looked back at Mick, who gave her a small nod of approval.
    “Thank you!” she gushed. “Yes, I can do that.”
    “Does that allow you sufficient time to find a place to live?” the chef inquired.
    A determined look settled upon Sonia’s face and she said, “We’ll make it work.”
    Kilrook nodded, approving of that expression of will and perseverance. She would do, he thought. He glanced at a calendar hanging on the wall and said, “Be here on Monday, the second, at nine o’clock in the morning. I’ll have paperwork for you to fill out before you can take your place in the kitchen. You’ll start as a chef de partie and report directly to Antoine, my sous chef.” He waved over to the tall, dark-haired man wearing a bandana wrapped around his head rather than a formal chef’s toque. The man approached.
    “Antoine, this is Sonia Hendriksen. She is a graduate of the CIA and will be starting on Monday, the second, as a chef de partie. She will report directly to you.”
    The sous chef nodded and murmured a polite hello. Sonia did the same. Kilrook continued to speak.
    “This young lady reminds me of you, Antoine, You do for her what I did for you.”
    The man nodded his understanding and grinned when the three of them overheard one of the line cooks exclaim, “Oh, boy, she’s in for it now. Antoine’s got someone new to torture.”
    “This is not a playground, Miss Hendriksen,” Antoine cautioned. “Chef Kilrook and I have exacting standards and you will be expected to meet all of them.”
    Sonia’s eyes hardened and she gave him a saccharine smile and said, “That’s Mrs. Hendriksen. I’m married.”
    Antoine’s eyes flashed and he nodded curtly, then returned to his station. This girl would do, he thought, echoing his employer’s sentiment. She had backbone.
    “Go now. I’ve a kitchen to run and you’ve a honeymoon to enjoy,” Kilrook ordered with a wave of his hand.
    “Thank you, sir,” Sonia said and joined Mick, who wrapped her in a bear hug.
    “Congratulations,” he whispered, thinking that she’d at least be occupied while he was on tour. The gentle curve of her body pressing against him and the residual fragrance of almond and vanilla lingering on her skin affected him in a predictable manner. One hand lowered to cup her bottom. “Let’s get back to our room. I need to fuck you.”
    She gasped in shock at his direct, coarse language, but could not hide the responding excitement that it ignited.
    They walked outside into brilliant sunshine and blazing heat and quickly hailed a taxi. The driver efficiently conveyed them to the hotel’s VIP entrance where a uniformed doorman welcomed them with a pleasant greeting and a smile. Minutes later the suite’s door closed behind them as they tore at each other’s clothes.
    Sonia mewled when he drove deeply inside her body after briefly making sure first that she was wet and ready for him. Mick grunted as he pumped between her thighs, the moist slap of his balls against her ass spurring him to drive as deeply as he could. He alternated between crushing his mouth to hers and watching her breasts jiggle with each thrust home. Soon, she was thrashing beneath him, bucking against him, and crying out as her body erupted in dizzying pleasure. He followed her up and over that soaring precipice, his face buried in the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
    He lay upon her for a moment, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
    “Wow,” Sonia breathed in his ear, her breath ruffling the fine, damp hairs lying along his neck. “Oh, wow.”
    Mick raised himself on his elbows and grinned at her as his dick, still buried inside her body, began to harden again. He rolled his hips and she gasped.
    “That just took the