Mistress Of Spices Book Novels & Stories

He handed her the cup of sweet tea and tried not to stare at her full sensual lips as she sipped from the steaming glass. Beautiful was the wrong word for this petite brunette. She was sexy. Painfully sexy. She was creamy skin and velvet softness and quivering vulnerable femininity, every inch of a lady. The only incongruous note about her was her attitude. Beneath her four-hundred-dollar coat, this woman was cocky to the bone. She reminded him of his wife, Amelia. Like him, she came from stinking wealth and her advantage in life rubbed off hugely on her personality. It was her cockiness and his inability to stick with her alone that had caused his marriage to fail.

"Uncle Chad, it's time for dinner!" Uncle Chad? He was not used to being called that! Chad muttered to himself as he stored the USB drive and asked, "You're quite good at cooking. Where did you learn this?" Gisella smiled and pulled out a bound book, saying, "I learned from this book, Mystical Cuisine." Chad was stunned, but after carefully inspecting the meal Gisella prepared, he could not help but be impressed. Chad wrote the book Mystical Cuisine, which summarized his experiences and recipes for medicinal cuisine.

As a piece of classical music began to play from an old cd player, I went inside. Everything seemed to be from a fantasy. "It appears that he put extra effort into this room," I muttered as I sat in one of the chairs. As soon as I sat in the chair, Luca rang the bell on the table, and servants entered with silver platters. I felt like a queen at this moment. I started eating as soon as the food was placed on the table. The food was delicious. It tasted like nothing else on Earth and tasted like all the spices used in cooking. The spices combined sweet and salty flavors to create a savory combination that would make anyone drool if they had never eaten anything else. “Milady. I'm afraid I hav

book to a specific page I had marked and handed it to him. "Just read." I watched Lorenzo's reaction, which went from a frown to eyes wide in shock. "What?... is this a p**n book?" "It's not a p**n book," Andrea said in a reprimanding tone. "It's The Señorita!" I said in an admiring sigh followed by Andrea. "This book is about a romance between a Spanish cook and a lady of the aristocracy! A forbidden romance between a rich lady and a commoner! Ahhh..." I sighed. "The writer who wrote this book is anonymous, her pseudonym is Madame Louis. The cover, based on a recipe book, is discreet and is a hit with women!"

It was strange, medieval-like and were stored up here as if stored up like something they wanted generations after generations to have a look at as if it were some old treasure usually kept in the museums. These strange spices weren't even used to cook that was the worst part so Alicia has concluded so far because looking at the tag placed on the jar with names written on it edibly she could tell that these spices are not something to be messed with. She dropped the jar only to pick another, 'Red Rhizoids' she stared at the content inside in powdery form taking the colour of a.dark shady orange. 'Red indeed'

That evening, I cooked dinner while he sat at the dining table, focused on his laptop. This was a real dinner, and to my relief, nothing got burned. Progress, I thought. Halfway through, my phone buzzed with a news alert. I paused before checking it. “Former Mistress Scandal: Where Are They Now?” I shut it down instantly. William noticed. “Still on your mind?” he asked softly. “A bit,” I admitted. He pushed his laptop aside. “Come here.” Just hearing those words made my heart race. But he only gestured to the chair next to him.

Their fate might be worse than that of the Parisis. ****************************************************************************

“It comes with a price.” My stomach twisted, suspicion coiling like a snake. “What kind of price?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though I already knew I wouldn’t like the answer. His smile widened, predatory and deliberate as he ran his eyes through my book. “Be my mistress. For, let’s say, a year. You’ll live with me, cater to my needs, and in return, I’ll make sure those men never bother you again. You’ll be safe. Protected.”

“Fine. Whatever.” We moved to the spice aisle, and I felt a fresh surge of inspiration. “Okay, for the ‘twist’ element… what about… cinnamon?” I reached for a jar. “Cinnamon?” Silas repeated, his voice incredulous. “Yes! It’s unexpected. Exotic.” I beamed, proud of my creativity. Before I could drop it in, Jax’s hand shot out, gently but firmly taking the jar from my grasp and returning it to its spot. “No cinnamon in stir-fry, Maddie. Trust me on this one.”

The dark stairwell led to the mistress’ private parlor. Deep in the heart of her own mansion. Not even used by family. There mistress sat. Waiting with a plain tea set. Plain, used only for those of low status like themselves. ‘Mistress is generous,’ thought her spy. Their mistress always prepared refreshments to her servants for their hard-earned work. Not all masters were willing to do the same. It was a silent invitation. But the spy knew better than to join their mistress without verbal orders. They waited.