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I seize the chance to change the topic. “This is homemade curry chicken?”
He offers me a smug smile full of challenge. Testing me, I’m certain of it.
“You cook?”
“I do. In and out of the kitchen.”
Our eyes connect, his baby blues glimmering with mischief.
I want to make a smart-ass comment, something to the effect of him out there hunting for food rather than inside a kitchen. But time is ticking and this banter between us is getting me nowhere.
“Is that right?” I breathe. Think of this as feeding a goose your brand of Pop-Tart. Tempt him with the treat, get him to quack, then fall back before getting bit.
I step forward with a little swing in my hips. Savoring the exact moment his smile slips. It’s the same moment I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and draw myself into his warm body.
“I lied,” I murmur.
I wait. One second. Two.
“About?” he asks in an equally low tone.
“Not being hungry. Matter of fact, I’m famished.” I raise my chin and look him square in the eyes. “Good thing you can cook, in and out of the bedroom.”
He stares at me hard. Warning bells ring, and every fiber of my being tells me I’m in danger. That this man isn’t what he seems. That it’d be foolish to underestimate him.
I search his deep blue depths for answers. What I come away with is a deep, albeit surprising, stirring within. Hells bells, what am I doing? Brushing my confusion aside, I come up on my tippy-toes then sweep in for a kiss.
Lettheseductionbegin.
