“Listen.” She rolled her shoulders. “I don’t know how to cook. Period.”
“I’m not expecting balsamic-glazed salmon.” He waved a chopstick. “A burger will do.”
He just wasn’t getting it. “I order in a lot. My schedule doesn’t allow anything else.”
“Nothing else?”
She glared at him with a fork still in her mouth. What was he digging for?
“I have a friend who works twenty-four-seven like you. He’s very successful, owns whole buildings. I bet you lead the lab where you work.”
“I’m an associate professor,” she conceded, trying to sound not too defensive. “I have a lab of my own.”
“But no partner. No lover?”
Her jaw tightened. Was he flirting or was he playing cat and mouse? “We don’t have to get to know each other. I’m only here two weeks. Who I sleep with is none of your business.”
“I disagree, Red.” That green gaze pierced right through her. “I need to know if we’re going to have visitors.”
“There will be no visitors. I’m here to work.”
“That’s good news, Red.”
His eyes twinkled with something like humor. Was there something funny about her abstinence?
She said, “You’ll extend me the same courtesy, of course.”
“What courtesy?”
“No visitors. I don’t relish bumping into Bunny or Fi-Fi wandering around the kitchen in lingerie in the morning.”
“Bunny?” A flash of teeth. “Fi-fi?”
“Am I not making myself clear?”
“Oh, I hear you.” Dropping his chopsticks on his empty plate, he stretched his bulging arms out behind him, and then linked them to cup his head. His eyes glittered between lowered lids. “No visitors for me. I like my privacy, too.”
“Liking privacy doesn’t necessarily exclude female visitors.”
He nodded at her. “You’re a female visitor.”
“Not of the type we’re discussing.”
He grunted and let his chair sink down to its four legs. “You won’t be wandering around in the morning wearing lingerie, then.”
She concentrated on her plate, half-empty, remembering the heavy cream-colored silk nightgown tucked in her rucksack. The one that smelled of Chanel no. 5, the bodice edged in lace.
She did like pretty things.
“I’ll make a point,” she said, “of covering up.”
“Don’t do it for my sake, Red.”
“Logan.” She swept her napkin off her lap and planted it beside her plate. “I have a request.”
“And there she is, the Teutonic warrior-princess again.”
Her chest tightened. She’d been called a lot of things, but never that. “I request that you stop mentioning this afternoon’s incident.”
“You mean the incident when I glimpsed you naked in a bedroom?”
Damn her redhead’s skin.
“That’s a tough request.” He rubbed the scruff of his chin. “Not sure I can block that out.”
“I insist.”
“But nothing else makes you blush like that, Red.”
“Do you like making me feel uncomfortable?”
“No.” His grin dimmed. “But I do like to watch you come to life.”
She dropped her fork onto her plate. “Enough.”
“Easy, Red,” he said, he raised his hands. “It’s just a little good-natured teasing. Some banter over dinner. I’m trying to make light of an awkward situation.”
“I’ll clean up tonight.” She grabbed her plate and shot to the sink where she scraped the leftovers into the garbage disposal. “But we’ll fend for ourselves from now on.”
“Nonsense. I’ll do the cooking.”
“Not necessary.”
“I’m doing it anyway. I always cook enough for ten. I come from a big family, it’s an old habit.”
She shoved the faucet on and ran the plate under the stream. The hot water scorched her fingers. See? She wasn’t made of ice. She could feel heat, she could feel cold. She could come to life.
“Hey, hey…”
His voice soft, from just behind her. He leaned over and twisted the faucet to the colder side, careful not to brush his body against hers. The water temperature cooled to lukewarm and the steam that had risen from the stream settled.
“I’m a jerk, Jenny.” He took the plate out of her hand. “I meant no disrespect. I won’t bring up the subject again, that’s a promise.”
His sideways apology poked a pin into her pride. She thrust a dripping sponge at him. He took it and she let her fingers drop before they could touch his. She fixed her gaze below his chin and watched him stiffen in a slow hardening of muscle and sinew and jaw. Who was this guy? One moment he picked her to pieces, and the next moment he spoke to her in a voice that would calm a charging rhino.
“Apology accepted.” She stepped around him. “Thanks for dinner. I have work to do.”
She headed to the sanctuary of the dim basement, pounding down the stairs to grab the lab coat she’d left on a hook. Shoving one arm into the sleeve and then the other, she gripped the edges and pulled them tight.
Damn Logan. She did have a heart under this lab coat.
She just knew better than to let anyone near it.
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning, Logan seriously considered drinking his coffee in the nude. After all, he’d had an eyeful of Jenny, and he figured the only way he could even the scales would be to give her equal time. But just imagining the feel of her gaze roaming over him was enough stiffen him up. Naked, there would be no way to hide his attraction.
He opted for black boxer shorts instead.
About eight o’clock, his fingers tightened around a cup of coffee as she padded barefoot into the kitchen. A screaming red silk bathrobe draped her figure, falling only to mid-thigh. Unaware of his presence, she flipped a tangled braid off her shoulder as she walked to the refrigerator, opened the door, and then bent over to search the contents, giving him a glimpse of a few more inches of creamy thigh.
“Good morning, Red.”
She jerked around, fumbling with the carton of orange juice. No longer the frosty aristocrat who’d parried with him yesterday, she looked unkempt, confused, and vulnerable, like the intriguing woman he’d taunted into distraction after dinner.
She blurted, “You’re in your underwear.”
He lifted the coffee in salute. “I heard scientists had keen powers of observation.”
“You’re not dressed.”
“The important parts are covered.” He swallowed a fireball of the brew.
“But…” She waved the orange
