Page 44 of Entranced
“No.” He came over the fence, landing lightly in front of her. “No, I don’t. But it helps that you’d ask.” He took her arm, his fingers sliding from shoulder to elbow to wrist. “Come inside.”
She liked it out here, where there was plenty of room to maneuver. Should maneuvering be necessary. But it seemed foolish and undeniably weak not to go in the house with him.
“There is something I want to talk with you about.”
“I assumed there was. Have you had dinner?”
“No.”
“Good. We’ll talk while we eat.”
They went in through the side of the house, climbing onto a redwood deck flanked with pots spilling over with impatiens and going through a wide glass door directly into the kitchen. It was all royal-blue and white, and as sleek and glossy as a page out of a high-fashion magazine. Sebastian went directly to a small glass-fronted refrigerator and chose a chilled bottle of wine from a rack inside.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to a stool at the tiled work island. After uncorking the wine, he poured her a glass. “I need to clean up,” he said, setting the wine on the counter in front of her. “Be at home.”
“Sure.”
The moment he was out of the room, she was off the stool. Mel didn’t consider it rude. It was innate curiosity. There was no better way to find out what made people tick than by poking around their personal space.And she desperately wanted to know what made Sebastian Donovan tick.
The kitchen was meticulously neat, spotless counters and appliances, the dishes in their glass-fronted cupboards arranged according to size. The room didn’t smell of detergent or disinfectant, but of … air, she decided, fresh, faintly herb-scented.
There were several clusters of herbs hanging upside down in front of the window over the sink. Mel sniffed at them, finding their aroma pleasant and vaguely mysterious.
She opened a drawer at random and found baking utensils. She tried another and found more kitchen gadgets neatly stacked.
Where was the clutter? she wondered as she frowned around the room. And the secrets one always found jumbled with it?
Not so much discouraged as intrigued, she slipped back onto the stool and picked up her wine a moment before he came into the room again.
He wore black now—snug coal-colored jeans and a black shirt rolled up to his elbows. His feet were bare. When he picked up the wine to pour his own glass, Mel realized he looked like what he claimed to be.
A wizard.
Smiling, he tapped his glass to hers, leaning close to stare into her eyes. “Will you trust me?”
“Huh?”
His smile widened. “To choose the menu.”
She blinked, took a hasty sip of wine. “Sure. I’ll eat most anything.”
As he began gathering ingredients and pots and pans, she let out a slow, relieved breath. “You’re going to cook?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I figured you’d just call out for something.” Her brows drew together as he poured oil in a skillet. “It’s an awful lot of trouble.”
“I enjoy it.” Sebastian snipped some herbs into a bowl. “It relaxes me.”
Mel scratched her knee and gave the mixture he was making a doubtful look. “You want me to help you?”
“You don’t cook.”
She lifted a brow. “How do you know?”
“I got a glimpse of your kitchen. Garlic?”
“Sure.”
