Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(134)
“I just have to figure out a way to do it. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Ryder’s laugh was soft. “‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive!’”
“Thanks for the support,” Jed muttered.
“Oh, you’ve got that all right. You’re sloppy in love with her, pal. Those of us who’ve already taken the fall love company.”
Jed dropped the phone as if it had turned red-hot in his hand. In love? No way. He wanted Zoë more than he’d wanted any other woman. He cared for her. He wanted to protect her. Panic fluttered again in his stomach. She might be driving him crazy. But that didn’t mean he was in love with her.
Besides, when he told her that last night he’d seduced her as Ethan Blair, she would likely never speak to him again. He ran a hand through his hair. No, that wasn’t going to happen. He knew how to handle a woman.
Turning, he strode toward the door. He was going to cook her a good meal, tell her all about the mess he was in, and then—when she was feeling sorry for him—he’d confess to being Ethan Blair.
WHEN ZOË STEPPED OUT of the bathroom, it was the scent that hit her first. Garlic and something else. If she’d had any experience with food preparation, she probably could have named the other smells that were wafting toward her. All she knew was that they were wonderful.
Jed stood behind the island in the kitchen with his back to her. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked a bit big and rode low on his hips, and he was chopping things and tossing them into a pan.
Her mouth began to water. For the food, she tried to tell herself. But that wasn’t entirely true. She had an equal hunger for the man. And that was ridiculous. They’d just made love twice. Once on the island counter. She only had to glance at it for her blood to heat. The second time had been on the floor. If she went to him now and put her arms around him, he’d make love to her again. She knew it.
Never had she elicited this kind of attraction in a man. Never had she had this kind of power. A thrill moved through her at the memories of what they’d done to each other, for each other. She should probably feel guilty for the time she’d spent with Ethan, but she didn’t. And she didn’t want to analyze that. She certainly didn’t regret it. Thanks to the two men, she’d changed.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Jed said without turning around.
“I’m starved.” She was, Zoë decided, and not just for food or even Jed Calhoun. She was hungry for life, for all the experiences she’d been avoiding because of her fears and hang-ups.
When she and Jed each moved back into their separate lives, she would have at least that, along with the memories of what they’d shared. She tried to ignore the little pain that seemed to tighten around her heart at the thought.
“I hope you like omelets.”
“I do.” She moved toward the kitchen area. What he was making looked a great deal more complicated than an omelet.
He sent a glance over his shoulder. “I could use some help with the toast. And you’d better make the coffee. Ryder says I’m lousy at it.”
“Sure. Toast and coffee are my specialties.” She hurried around the counter and plucked two pieces of toast out of the toaster, adding them to the pile he’d already started. Then she studied the coffeemaker. “I’m best at making instant.”
“A woman after my own heart. It’s fast and foolproof.”
The automatic drip pot looked pretty simple. Zoë read the directions on the bag of coffee Jed had set out, scooped grounds and poured water into the appropriate compartments, and then crossed her fingers and pressed the start button. Next to her, Jed cracked eggs and whipped them into a froth. She discovered there was an intimacy to working in the small space with him.
“Do you cook?” he asked when the eggs were in the pan and he was carefully pulling them back from the edge.
“No. My parents had a housekeeper who did the cooking. They felt that every single moment of one’s time should be devoted to more intellectual pursuits. Since I’ve been on my own, I either eat at work or buy takeout.”
He glanced at her horrified. “You don’t actually eat the stuff they dish up to the students at Georgetown?”
She shrugged. “It’s convenient.”
“It’s horrible. I bought a hot plate and started cooking in college for self-preservation.” He sent her a grin. “Most of my dishes can be made in one pan as a result.”
She studied him for a moment. “We don’t really know a lot about each other, do we?”
He met her eyes. “We know a lot about each other. We’re just a little short on the background stuff. And I assume you know at least some of that. You ran a check on me, didn’t you?”