“Do you want to sleep in the spare room?” The idea of her backing away filled him with trepidation. In the short time he’d known her, she’d wormed under his skin. Dangerous woman.
“No, I’m happy with the status quo,” she said, and her frank tone reassured him. “I enjoyed the hell out of the sex we just had, and I can’t wait to experience more.”
“Hold that thought.” He appreciated candor in a woman, yet hadn’t expected it from a Drummond.
“Let me wash you.” She squirted shower gel into her palms and ran soapy fingers over his shoulders, his chest and back. He let her cleanse him from head to foot, his gaze tracking her expression. She ran her fingers down to his groin, and predictably his dick reacted to her touch.
“Enough,” he said. “I’m serious about needing food. You don’t want to ring the cops and tell them I’ve expired from hunger.”
“There, sparkly and clean again.” The imp took control of her face again, her brown eyes sparkling. She tilted her head back and reached around to pinch him on the butt.
Dallas jumped and her laugh rang out. He put on a stern face, when he wanted to crack up and cackle from sheer pleasure and happiness. “That is not correct behavior.”
She did a slow blink, a droplet of water dripping down her face. “Says who?”
She had him there. “I’ll go and start dinner. Take your time.”
He stepped from under the water, grabbed a towel and rubbed himself dry. In his bedroom, he dressed. Time to break open a bottle of red wine.
Laura joined him about ten minutes later. “What do you want me to do?”
“Pour us a glass of wine. You drink red?”
“I do.”
A sizzle sounded as the onions hit the hot oil. He stirred them and accepted a glass of red wine from Laura.
“What do you know of the animosity between our families?” she asked. “I don’t know much. My parents told me to stay away from those horrid O’Grady children at primary school and enforced the order often.”
“You went to a posh boarding school.”
“Yes, I did once I turned twelve, but during school holidays, I used to watch you and your brothers play rugby or swimming at the river.”
Dallas sent her an unbelieving stare. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” she assured him. “I told myself that one day I’d pinch your ass to learn if it was as hard and firm as it looked.”
“You didn’t,” he repeated.
“Oh, but I did, and now I know your butt feels very muscular indeed.”
“I have my own personal stalker.” He tossed crushed garlic into the pan and used a wooden spoon to jostle it around the heat.
She grinned. “What else should I do?”
“Sit at the breakfast bar and look pretty.”
She made a scoffing sound. “I hate being told to look pretty. I’ve heard it my entire life. ‘Keep your clothes clean, Laura.’ ‘Don’t make mud pies.’ ‘You’ll get dirty, Laura.’ Do you know how much fun it is to play and get dirty?”
“Is that what this is about? You slumming with an O’Grady?”
“No.” Her tone was sharp. “It’s a dirty weekend. It’s fun, and I’m appeasing my curiosity. I’ve already learned you don’t have horns and a tail, which makes me wonder what else my parents have lied about. I’ve discovered you’re a gentleman. I like you.”
The pot of water he’d put on the other element came to the boil, and he added penne pasta.
“Tell me more about your pubs. Do you do meals?”
“We have a cook in each pub and do classic pub foods. Shepherd’s pie. Steak and onion pie. Fish pie. Roast dinners on a Sunday.”
