“I’ll let you know when dinner is served, Your Highness.”
The smile she gave him?He’d crawl through cut glass to see that again.
He had dinner nearly ready when she joined him in the kitchen.The scent of her reached him first—like a spring morning after a rain.It was intoxicating.Almost as potent as the smell of her arousal.
He turned and glanced at her.Her hair was still piled up, leaving her neck bare.A few damp tendrils escaped to curl alluringly along the side of her throat.
She had on a black tank top.Her shorts were skimpy enough that they should be outlawed.He appreciated them in the house, but he wouldn’t allow her into town wearing them.The feeling of possession that swamped him caught him off guard, but he didn’t question it.This view was his.Only his.
Her feet were bare and she’d only applied a hint of mascara to her honest, hazel eyes.Everything about her was guileless.Sofia McBride was the fresh air he’d needed in his life.He was captivated.
She moved across the room to stand next to him.“What can I help with?”she asked while brushing a finger down his forearm.
“Do you want to eat on the patio or at the island?”
“Outside is nice, as long as it’s cool enough.”
“We have an overhead fan and it’s shaded.”
“Then outside.”She gathered plates, silverware and napkins and carried them out to the courtyard.
They met back in the kitchen.“I’m not sure that I’d ever be inside if I had that courtyard at my disposal,” she said.
Except for in the mornings, he rarely took time to enjoy it.
“Miss Libby had the fountain put in, but it was my mother who did most of the landscaping.She has a thing for color, design, the height, ground cover, things I’ll never understand.She’d look out the window and say, you know, that banana tree should be moved.So Manny would send over a worker, and it would be moved.She was always right.”
“Maybe because she didn’t feel comfortable making changes to the house?And there’s not a lot of color in here.”
He’d never thought of it that way, but she might have a point.
“Do we need any other condiments?”She glanced over and saw he’d put together a salad.“Oil and vinegar okay for that?”
“That’ll work.”
“Do you have steak sauce?”
He swung his gaze toward her before realizing she was grinning.
“One simply does not adulterate Running Wind beef,” she said, stealing the words before he could utter them.
Cade shook his head.
“Teasing, Cade.I made stir fry last week,” she reminded him.“There was no need for anything other than a light hand with the seasoning.”
“You horrified me.”
“The expression on your face was priceless.”
They worked together effortlessly.She brought in the pitcher of sun tea and did a taste test.“Another hour would be better, but it’s not bad.Want some?”
He viewed the weak-looking stuff with skepticism.“Does it come with whiskey?”
She frowned at him.“It could.I hear it’s good with wine.”
He shuddered.“Definitely not.”
“You sure?”
