Chapter 8
“Are you okay, Mama?”
Maria blinked hard then looked down at what she’d been cooking. The ginger jam that she’d been simmering had scorched. A bagnomaria of chocolate had overheated and separated, which was exactly what the double boiler was supposed to prevent. She hadn’t done that since she was a little girl standing on a kitchen chair to help her grandmother cook.
“Fine. I’m fine.” She began cleaning up the mess. A glance at the clock said that she still had time if she stayed focused. Which would be much easier if she weren’t so preoccupied by memories of how Hogan had made her body feel on that third time around the Ferris wheel. Men had fondled her breasts, but Hogan had worshipped them with his hands. He’d scooped her into his lap and run his lips down her neck and his
