Never had he wanted to impress a girl as much as he wanted to at that moment. “C’mon in.”
Bethany hesitated, then crossed the threshold, and Hank fought an urge to scoop her up caveman style and carry her away. He would beat his chest and yellmine all mineto any who tried to take her from his arms.
He smiled at his foolishness and shut the door. His wild attraction to Bethany was the mood of a moment—here today and gone the next. How else to explain why rational thought deserted him in her presence?
“Something smells good. You’re cooking?” She stood there looking sweet and innocent and as tempting as any of his leading ladies. Except this was not the effect of makeup, costume, and millions of dollars in plastic surgery. She was as real as it got.
“I told you I’d make you dinner.” He presented her with a casual smile, which he hoped hid his thoughts. “Why do you persist in your disbelief, woman?”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he led her into the kitchen. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bethany followed Hank’s tall form into a massive kitchen and tried not to check out his butt. Did it have to be so...sculpted?
He turned and caught her gawking before she could look away.
He raised his eyebrows and laughed, and she moved her gaze to the bubbling frying pan on the stove. She swallowed. “Smells good. What is it?”
“Wait and be surprised.” Hank gestured toward the rustic wood table set for two. “Have a seat.”
Bethany dragged her gaze from the stove to the table and took a moment to appreciate its artistic splendor. Three perfect pink peonies nestled in a small glass vase in the center of the table and a gold runner ran down its center. The plates were white, but the utensils were gold to match the runner. A wine glass sat in front of each plate, and in front of them sat a gold bucket filled with ice and a bottle of Riesling.
Hank pulled out a plush gray chair and waited.
Not a date.
Bethany sat, glad to sink into the chair’s velvety softness. She shifted her gaze to Hank, who had collected the wine bottle but remained hovering over her, his shirt open at the neckline so she caught a tantalizing glimpse of his golden chest and some sort of medal on a silver chain. He smelled like soy sauce and temptation.Just business.“Did you do all this yourself?”
He laughed and the sound sank into her bones. “I’d like to take the credit, but I only had the good taste to rent an already decorated place and hire a maid service.”
Hank took the wine to the counter and opened it. His long fingers were deft on the bottle, and Bethany imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on her.Ridiculous.
“Wine?”
She nodded and shifted in her chair to watch him cross to her and fill both wine glasses. Hank presented one of the glasses to her, then he sat across the table and raised the other.
He smiled, slow and easy, like they had all the time in the world. His blue eyes met hers across the rim, grabbed a hold of her heart and squeezed. “To Grandma Lou’s.”
Her heartbeat lurched along, but she managed to lean forward far enough to clink her glass with his and take a sip. Wine had never tasted so good.
She cleared her throat and struggled to think of something casual to say. Hank refilled their glasses. She had drained her glass, which was not the wisest decision, but it soothed her nerves. He returned to the stove to serve them both a plate of stir-fry.
He set a steaming dish in front of her and then sat on the opposite side of the table.
She took a bite of carrot to avoid looking at him. If shekept her eyes off his gorgeous physique, maybe she could keep her mind on her reasons for being there.
An awkward silence stretched between them. Bethany swallowed. “How’d you get into acting?”
He set down his fork. “It started with a modeling contract. I was discovered by an agent while walking down the street with a friend. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I agreed.”
She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she risked a glance his way. Candlelight cast a warm glow on his face as he watched her, eyes hooded.
“So then you were offered an acting role?”
He shook his head and downed the rest of his wine. “No. My agent encouraged me to try out for a small role on a soap opera. I did and got that part and, soon after, bigger roles. The rest, as they say, is history. You can Google all this, you know.”
“Oh, I...” Why hadn’t she thought to Google Hank? She wiped her face with her napkin. “There hasn’t been time.”
