Seduced by Metsy Hingle

shoulder.
    â€œYou’re supposed to be impressed by the bird, not the handler,” Michael whispered in her ear.
    â€œAny reason I can’t be impressed by both?” His warm breath fanned her neck, sending a delicious shudder down her spine. Amanda cut a glance up at him out of the corner of her eye.
    â€œYes.”
    She lifted one brow.
    He caught her fingers, brought them to his lips and kissed their tips. “Tonight the only man I want you to be impressed by is me.”
    The deep, husky sound of his voice, the hungry look in his eyes, sent a burst of pleasure through her. “You don’t have to worry. I’m impressed.” In fact, she was more than impressed. She was well on her way to falling in love with him.
    Unnerved by the realization and the effect his nearness was having on her, Amanda turned away. She looked toward another path in search of diversion from Michael, from her feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, she caught the tantalizing scent of simmering spices. She sniffed again. “Hmm. What’s that wonderful smell?”
    Michael smiled. “Why don’t we find out?”
    He led her to another clearing filled with more than a dozen tables draped in pristine white cloths, each sporting large warming trays and serving dishes piled high with food. Cardboard tents with the names of some of the city’s finest eating establishments rested on each tabletop. “Most of the better restaurants donate one of their specialty dishes for tonight’s affair.” He looked at her and asked, “Hungry?”
    Her mouth watered as the delicious aromas reminded her just how long it had been since she’d eaten. “Yes. I am,” Amanda replied.
    â€œAnything special you’d like to try?” Michael took her past one row of tables.
    â€œI don’t know.” She laughed. Each dish looked better than the last. “Everything! It all smells wonderful.”
    Michael laughed, too. “It is.” He walked over to one of the steaming dishes. “If you’re feeling adventuresome, I recommend the crawfish étouffé. ”
    Amanda studied the tomato-colored sauce with chunks of crawfish being served over a bed of fluffy white rice. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that much adventure.”
    â€œI knew that conservative Bostonian was going to show up sooner or later.” He grinned, effectively quelling any possible sting from his words before guiding her to another table. “How about the fettuccine Alfredo? It should be a safe bet.”
    Conservative. Safe. Funny, she didn’t feel any of those things when she was with Michael. In fact, she felt anything but safe and conservative.
    â€œAmanda? Do you want to try the fettuccine?” Michael asked, his gaze questioning.
    Just then the waiter at the next station lifted the lid on a large pot of steaming gumbo. Amanda caught a whiff of the unique blend of onions, sweet peppers, celery, tomatoes and garlic simmering in a thick sauce with shrimp and okra. The cayenne pepper tickled her nose, but she couldn’t resist. “I think I’ll try the gumbo instead.”
    â€œIt’s hot,” Michael warned.
    â€œI think I can handle it.”
    â€œI take back what I said about you being conservative.” He raised two fingers for the waiter.
    By the time Amanda had eaten the last morsel of rice in her bowl, she’d also finished two full glasses of ice water. “I can’t believe how thirsty I am.” She licked the last few drops from her lips and set the cup on the small table she and Michael were sharing.
    Michael chuckled. “It’s all that cayenne in the gumbo. You’re not used to it. Wait here, I’ll get you a refill.” Taking her glass, he headed toward one of the two bars set up in the clearing.
    Feeling more relaxed and happier than she had in a long time, Amanda shifted her gaze to the chattering guests. She smiled at