After Dark. Wendy Etherington

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СКАЧАТЬ toward her, he smiled that amazing smile, his eyes lighting with sensual sparks. “Or you could join me.”

      4

      SLOAN let her gaze glide over the planes of Aidan’s body.

      Tempting?

      Definitely.

      Still, that luscious package came with a whole lotta baggage.

      “That’s quite presumptuous of you, Mr. Kendrick,” she said, though she slid the tip of her finger down his broad chest as she spoke. “I think I’ll make the salad instead.”

      She took the bag back from him and headed toward the kitchen. Behind her, she heard the murmurs of Aidan’s and Pete’s voices.

      As she grew closer, the scent of spaghetti sauce washed over her. Clearly, Aidan had been doing something besides hammering all day.

      She set her bag on the counter, then crossed to the stove, lifting off the stock-pot lid and inhaling deeply. She recognized lots of oregano, basil and garlic. A man who knew his history and his sauces was pretty much irresistible.

      As she pulled lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers from the grocery bag, she also noted that her name and phone numbers were still hanging on the fridge door and found it oddly comforting that he’d saved them. Smiling, she pulled out the wide-rimmed wooden bowl she’d brought along with the food.

      “You brought a bowl?”

      She glanced over her shoulder as Aidan approached. “And silverware and wineglasses. Your provisions are sparse, as I recall.”

      “Were sparse.” He opened a drawer beside her, revealing brand-new silverware. “Already been through the dishwasher and everything. Plus…” He swung open a cabinet beside the sink. “New dishes. The ceramic kind. And wineglasses.” He reached into another cabinet and pulled out two, setting them on the counter.

      She batted her lashes. “All for little ol’ me?”

      “Yes.”

      He looked so pleased with himself, her breath caught. If the man was going to start being charming, she was in big trouble.

      You’re already in big trouble.

      “Sorry I wasn’t ready when you got here,” he said, moving closer. “We were on a roll today.”

      She swallowed as her heart rate picked up speed. “The banister to the stairs is up.”

      His silver eyes flashed with pleasure. “You noticed.”

      “Of course. It’s beautiful.”

      “It makes a difference. The other railing was rickety, possibly dangerous, and now it looks finished.”

      “And welcoming,” she said.

      He drew his brows together. “Welcoming, huh? You don’t think people will want to come over and look at it, do you?”

      Charm was clearly a brief and impulsive state for him. The man was warily unsociable in the extreme. “Gee, wouldn’t that be horrible?”

      “Yes.” His gaze searched hers. “Really, it’s only your opinion that matters.”

      Seriously? She smiled. Maybe she was making an impression. Maybe—

      “Because of your connection to the historical committee,” he added.

      Then again, maybe not. “Of course.”

      Yet he’d invited her to dinner. He was obviously attracted to her. He was certainly interested in her. Whether he liked her—or anybody else—was another subject entirely.

      He’d been through a traumatic time lately. Parents’ deaths. Violent crime. Media frenzy. They were bound to throw even the strongest off stride. And she suspected Aidan was the one who usually threw others off balance.

      As did she.

      He was a loner. If not before, certainly now. And she was very socialable. Between her dad, her friends, her work and her committees, she was rarely alone.

      But she liked being alone with him.

      She had no desire to go to a crowded restaurant or music-blasting club. She was content with spaghetti at his kitchen table.

      Maybe they weren’t so far apart after all. But was that a good thing?

      She fought for a casual tone. “So I’ll start on the salad while you take your shower.”

      “Okay.” His gaze roved her face for a second before he said, “I haven’t done this in a while.”

      “Showered or eaten?”

      He laughed. Actually, laughed. Her body went hot and tingly.

      Oh, boy. She was in big, big trouble.

      “Had a date,” he said lightly, while she scrambled to remember the dark, angry man she’d met less than a week ago.

      “I bet it comes back to you.”

      His lips tipped up at the corners. “I hope so.”

      After he left, she began assembling the salad—and thinking hard about the step they were taking.

      It’s a simple date. What’s the big deal?

      Simple. Of course. Yet it didn’t feel uncomplicated or straightforward.

      She still sensed his pain, forced right beneath the surface, hovering there and waiting for a chance to spring. And while part of her wanted to know the real story behind the speculation about him, part of her didn’t care. She sort of wanted him to talk about his family and what had driven him to change his life so drastically, but in some ways it didn’t matter. She wanted to know who he was now. She wanted to live only in the moment.

      The sexual tension between them was palpable. If that kiss the other day was any kind of guide, their chemistry was incredible. Did she really want to complicate things with deep conversations about suppressed feelings?

      No. She really didn’t. Chemistry was welcome. Heat was enough.

      Besides, with Davis back in town, she had drama and emotional confusion all on her own.

      By the time Aidan returned, she’d opened and poured the wine. And crammed her worries into the back of her mind.

      “The sauce is ready,” he announced. “All we have to do is boil the pasta.”

      “Good. I’m starving.” She handed him a glass of wine, her pulse skipping a beat. He smelled of musk, oak and sandalwood, and his hair was still damp, jet-black waves brushing his forehead. “When did you have time to make sauce today?”

      “I took a break around three.” He leaned against the counter next to her. “Are you impressed СКАЧАТЬ