Who could blame him? Like most of the rest of the free world, he’d seen that recent romantic comedy, including the scene where she’d been stark naked in bed with her leading man, Brock Markovic.
Then again, how did he even know that was really her body? Maybe she’d had a body double.
Not that it was any of his damn business, either way.
“Sten?”
“Right here.”And definitely not thinking about you naked.
“So, about the toilet?”
He was hugely tempted to launch into an explanation of what, exactly, might be wrong with the flushing mechanism and what he would do about it, just to show off what an expert he was on the issue of toilets—and yeah. He should face it. This girl had his brains leaking out his ears.
“Sten? Have I lost you?”
“I’ll be there in five.”
He drove the rest of the way to the main house, parked in the garage and grabbed a toolbox and the pair of sunglasses he’d found in the sand between the houses the day before. As he climbed the steps to the front door of the cottage, which faced the cliffs behind the beach, he reminded himself for the hundredth time that his job was to be happy about the enormous rent she paid and leave the beautiful creature next door alone. He would be fixing the damn toilet and getting the hell out.
She answered his knock wearing jeans and a snug shirt and looking like a couple of billion bucks. “I appreciate this.” Her smile bloomed, dimples twinkling, and he almost forgot how to talk.
He held out the sunglasses. “I’m guessing these might be yours?”
She took them. “Wow, thank you. I love this pair and I thought I would never seem them again.”
“No problem.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s have a look at that toilet.” He sounded impossibly serious to his own ears. Like a bad actor playing a doctor on some cheesy soap.
She stepped back and ushered him in. He got a whiff of her scent as he moved past her. Sweet and peppery at once. Delicious. The scent conjured memories of his childhood, of all things, sent him back to the house on Dorcas Lane where he grew up.
Petunias. That was it. She smelled like his mom’s petunias. In the summertime, they always overflowed the hanging baskets on the back deck. He used to love getting his nose right up in them, breathing in that scent that was so sweet it smelled sticky-good—sweet and yet sharp, too.
And why were they were just standing there in the entry area, staring at each other?
He broke the hold of her gaze and led the way down the short hall to the half bath. She leaned in the doorway, slim arms folded across her middle, the sunglasses dangling from her fingers, watching as he set his toolbox on the floor. He almost told her she didn’t have to hang around. He’d take care of the problem and let her know when he was leaving.
But if he told her that, she might turn and walk away. He didn’t want that—even if he had been avoiding her since the other day. She was too tempting, too rich for his blood. And when she was standing close to him like this, well, the temptation was stronger. It overrode his caution.
He jiggled the handle and it flopped up and down uselessly.
“Not a big deal,” he said.
“Great.” Her dimples winked at him.
He took the lid off the tank and saw that the chain had been broken in two. That chain had zero rust on it or signs of wear. Doubtful it would have broken without help.
When he slanted Madison a glance, her blue-green eyes were wide and innocent as a cloudless sky. But her dimples told another story. She was trying really hard to hide a grin. She lowered her head and looked at her shoes, her shining hair flowing forward, covering her cheeks.
Was she blushing? “Where’s your bodyguard?” he asked.
She straightened, guiding her hair behind her ear on one side. He saw the pink flush on her cheek. Definitely blushing. “I sent him back to LA.”
“Why?”
“I’ve had security with me round-the-clock for years. I wanted a little privacy for a change. It’s kind of isolated here. And so far, nobody’s bothered me, so...” She let a shrug finish for her.
He grabbed a pair of needle-nose pliers from the toolkit. “How is it, then, being on your own here?”
“Dirk’s only been gone a few hours. Check in with me later. I’ll let you know.”
