Chris watched him under lowered lashes and felt the warmth flood through her. It was a bittersweet feeling, lovely and sensual as a cat by a heated hearth, and sad because it was all so impossible. I don’t want another man in my life, she repeated to herself. Especially this one. He’s much too handsome. Too virile. He probably collects women like ants at a picnic. But she had to admit this was very nice.
They sat side by side on the comfortable couch, eating Linzer tortes in silence, listening to the hiss and crackle of the fire. Chris sipped at the coffee. She curled her legs under her and closed her eyes drowsily. “It’s been such a long day,” she mumbled in halfhearted apology. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”
Chapter 5
“Come on, sleepyhead.” Ken’s voice was as gentle as the hand that stroked her cheek. “Time to get up.”
Chris blinked in the darkness, trying to organize the confusion of her mind.
Ken smiled at her. It was an irresistible, devastating grin-even at the crack of dawn. His white teeth flashed in his black beard, reminding Chris of a pirate. “You fell asleep right in the middle of your Linzer torte last night,” he said with a trace of laughter. “You mumbled something about it being a long day and then you were gone.”
“Did Edna call?”
“Yes. Everyone is fine. You should call Kansas later this morning. Lucy lost a tooth somewhere over Wheeling, West Virginia. I think she’d like to brag to you about it.”
A shaft of golden light escaped from his open bedroom door, partially illuminating the rec room. Chris gazed sleepily at the man sitting beside her. She unconsciously reached out and touched a lock of black hair that was still wet from his shower. “You smell nice. Warm and spicy…like men’s soap and mint toothpaste.”
He captured her hand and pressed a lingering kiss against the inside of her wrist. His eyes held her. “Be careful. It wouldn’t take much to get me under that quilt with you.”
Chris felt her heart jump at the touch of his lips. It wouldn’t take much for me to drag you under here, she silently groaned. “I…uh…I was just…” She closed her eyes tight. “Oh damn. You’ve got me stuttering.”
“Mmmm, I seem to have a strange effect on you.”
“Yeah. An annoying mixture of lust and sheer panic, and I intend to ignore both of them.” She stretched under the down quilt. “I see you tucked me in.”
“I considered undressing you and putting you to bed, but I didn’t want to risk another broken body part. I need all the parts I have left.”
“Very wise.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Four-thirty. Better get moving. Breakfast will be served in twenty minutes.”
She looked at him warily. “Are you cooking breakfast?”
“Edna told me you have orange juice, coffee, and an egg over easy.”
Chris shook her head and muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs. “The woman even told him what I have for breakfast. Heaven only knows what else she told him. He probably knows my shoe size and my cholesterol level.”
Chris locked her bedroom door and her bathroom door and still felt uncomfortable when she stripped for her shower. There was no escaping Ken. He had invaded her bastion of female tranquility and security. He permeated every part of the house. He stirred every latent sex-related hormone in her body.
She lathered her shoulders and watched the soap cascade in slippery rivulets. She was suddenly glad she had kept herself in shape. Thank goodness I inherited a healthy metabolism and a naturally slim body from my mother, she thought. Her hectic schedule didn’t leave time for fancy spas and tennis dates. She exercised daily with the skaters in a general conditioning class and tried to run at least six miles a week. She examined herself more closely. Her waist was still small and supple. Her stomach was flat. Her legs still showed good muscle definition in the quadriceps and calves. Not an ounce of fat, she concluded with great satisfaction. She ducked her head under the steaming water and poured shampoo into the tangle of orange curls.
Of course, she assured herself, the fact that she was taking an appraisal of her body for the first time in seven years had nothing to do with Ken Callahan. She simply had a little extra time this morning and had happened to notice she was still trim and desirable. In fact, she had so much time she decided to use the expensive herbal rinse that made her hair shiny and soft to touch. She whisked out of the shower, humming happily, towel-dried her hair, and smoothed moisturizer over her flawless complexion.
The warm-up suits neatly folded in her dresser drawer seemed strangely bland. They were comfortable and sensible…and blah. Mostly gray. Not today, she decided. She didn’t feel gray. She felt red. Maybe turquoise. And she didn’t feel a bit baggy. She rummaged through her bottom drawer, finally finding a black Lycra skintight body suit with stirrup feet. She ripped the tags off a brand-new, sparkling-white turtleneck and pulled it over her head and added a black sweater with bright blue-and-white racing stripes running the length of the arm. A quick look in the mirror brought a smile to her lips as she settled the wide ribbing on her hips. She carefully added a touch of shadow, swiped at her lashes with the mascara wand, and was startled to find that her cheeks were glowing pink without blusher. “Must have been the hot shower,” she said, putting her makeup brush down.
Chris flew down the stairs and pushed through the kitchen door. A pregnant silence filled the small room. There was a peculiar expression on Ken’s face as he stood by the stove. He seemed poised on the brink of some emotion-a look of general horror about him; his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth twitching with what might be laughter, his black brows drawn together in consternation. Chris stopped still in her tracks. She followed his eyes to a spot on the floor just inches from her feet. Her first reaction was to classify the object on the floor with snakes, spiders, mice, and unidentified slime. She jumped back a foot and screamed. “Eeeeeh! What is it?” When it didn’t move she bent down to take a closer look and realized it was an egg. Perfectly fried. Over easy.
“It’s an egg,” he said tonelessly. “Over easy. Just the way you like it.”
“You did a good job,” Chris told him, almost choking. “It’s perfect. Except…”-she swallowed hard-“except it’s on the floor.”
“The little devil slid out of the pan.”
Chris clapped her hands over her mouth in an attempt to abort the gales of laughter that were rising in her throat.
Ken bent over the egg with her. “You may as well go ahead and laugh. You look like you’re ready to burst an eardrum from internal pressure.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped between spasms of hysteria. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s the first egg I’ve ever cooked…in my entire life.” He slid the spatula under the egg and lifted it from the linoleum. “I think it’s dead.”
Chris stood ramrod straight, saluted the egg, and tooted out taps.
Ken gave her a withering look and dumped the mess into the garbage disposal. “Would you like me to try again?”
“No. I think I’ll pass on the egg today.” She swallowed her juice and sipped at the coffee. “Mmmm. You do make excellent coffee.”
Ken lounged against the wall, watching her with an intensity that made her feel as if she were melting inch by inch. Slowly and hungrily, his eyes traveled the length of her. “Do you have any idea what you look like? Does Aunt Edna let you go out dressed like that?”
Chris bit back a smile. Damn right she knew what she looked like-sexy as all get-out. And Edna would do cartwheels to get her to dress like this. Edna hated the warm-up suits. Edna called them camouflage.
Chris feigned innocence. “What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s…slinky.” His face clouded. “Beautiful soft orange curls and eyes like a young lioness…and now this outfit.” He reached out and ran his finger along the outside of her thigh. “It’s silky,” he noted, molding his hand to her hipbone. “It fits you like skin. What on earth is this? Something special for skaters?”
“It’s a body suit.”
He peeked under her sweater with more curiosity than passion. “It goes all the way up.”
Chris slapped at his hand. “Don’t do that!”
He smoothed the ribbing back over her hips. His eyes softened until Chris thought he looked like a blue-eyed cocker spaniel. “You’re such an enigma, Chris Nelson. Flushed cheeks and soft lips and a little breathless. When you
