He smiled. “No, I’m not. Trust me. I couldn’t be involved with anyone and kiss you the way I did the other day.”
Bringing up their kiss made her remember how it had been that day, and how easily her lips had molded to his. It had been so easy to feel his passion, and some of the things his tongue had done inside her mouth nearly short-circuited her brain. Even now her body was inwardly shuddering with the force of those memories. And she expected them to live under the same roof and not share a bed? That was definitely an unrealistic expectation on her part. It seemed since their kiss, being under the same roof for any period of time was a passionate time bomb waiting to happen for them and they both knew it.
She glanced across the table at him and her stomach clenched. He was looking at her the same way he’d done that day right before he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back. Mated with his mouth and loved every minute doing so.
Even now she recognized the look in his eyes. It was a dark, hungry look that did more than suggest he wanted her and if given the chance he would take her right here, on her kitchen table. And it would entail more than just kissing. He would probably want to sample her the same way she’d done the seafood bisque Pam had served at dinner. And heaven help her but she would just love to be sampled.
She knew what he wanted but was curious to know what he was thinking at this moment. He was staring at her with such intensity, such longing and such greed. Then she thought, maybe it was best that she didn’t know. It would be safer to just imagine.
Swallowing hard, she broke eye contact with him and thought changing the subject was a good idea. The discussion of a possible marriage between them was not the way to go right now.
“At least I’ve paid for the appliances they are delivering next week,” she said, glancing over at her stove that had seen better days. “I think that stove and refrigerator were here when my Dad lived here,” she added. “Probably.”
“So it was time for new ones, don’t you think?”
“Yes. And I think we need to get those broken pieces of the teacups off the floor,” he said.
“I’ll do it later. It will give me something to do after you leave. I’m going to need to stay busy for a while. I’m not sleepy.”
“You sure you won’t need my help cleaning it up?”
“Yes, I’m sure” was her response.
“All right.”
“I have beer in the refrigerator if you’d like one,” she offered.
“No, I’m straight.”
For the next ten minutes they continued to engage in idle chatter. Anything else was liable to set off sparks that could ignite into who knows what.
“Bella?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not working.”
She knew just what he meant. They had moved the conversation from her appliances, to the broken teacups, to him not wanting a beer, to the furniture in her living room, to the movie that had made number one at the box office last weekend like either of them really gave a royal flip. “It’s not?”
“No. It’s okay to feel what we’re feeling right now, no matter what decision you make a week from now. And on that note,” he said, standing, “if you’re sure you don’t want me to help clean up the broken teacups, I think I’d better go before…”
“Before what?” she asked when he hesitated in completing the statement.
“Before I try eating you alive.”
She sucked in a quick breath while a vision of him doing that very thing filtered through her mind. And then instead of leaving well enough alone, she asked something really stupid. “Why would you want to do something like that?”