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wanted to reduce the square footage so I went up rather than out and split the extra room downstairs into a pantry and darkroom. Rustic is one thing, but I draw the line at an outside bathroom.’
The barest hint of a smile curled her lips, and I was struck with the wild urge to see her truly smile.
‘Surprisingly I do too.’
‘Then we’re in agreement.’
She looked around again. ‘So, you own the cabin?’
I nodded. ‘Built it with my own two hands three years ago.’
Her gaze dropped to my hands and for some reason I wanted to spread them out, offer them to her.
Get a grip, Jensen.
The coffee machine beeped, giving me the perfect excuse to use my hands on something other than
supplication.
‘How do you take your coffee?’
‘Black. No sugar. Thanks.’
Damn. Girl after my own heart.
Woman.
Graciela Mortimer was all woman. A woman I wanted more with every passing minute. I poured
two cups of coffee and handed one to her. She lifted the cup to her lips, gently blew on it before
taking a sip.
Her gaze lifted, boldly spearing mine for one tight little second. I wondered if she’d seen my
desire. If she had, what would she do with it?
Nothing, I told myself firmly.
I’d sworn off entanglements, remember? I took a large gulp of coffee, wincing when it scalded my
mouth and throat. But it brought a modicum of common sense, enough for me to exhale somewhere
near normally as her gaze swung from me to the window.
‘Is there any way to find out how long this thing is going to last?’
My insides dipped, mocking the mental slap I’d just handed myself. ‘In a hurry to get somewhere?’
Hazel eyes returned to clash with mine. ‘Of course I am. Even charity magazines don’t run
themselves.’
‘I don’t want to start an argument, but don’t you have people to ensure things run smoothly in your absence?’
‘Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being in charge.’
My next breath strangled in my chest. I’d got a small taste of her being in charge and it’d sparked a red-hot fire in me. But there was something else, something she wasn’t quite saying. I decided to