Читать книгу Expecting...And In Danger - Eileen Wilks, Eileen Wilks - Страница 12

Rafe was using his favorite knife on a fresh shitake mushroom when he heard Charlie coming down the iron staircase. She’d spent an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom, but he’d expected that. He’d once asked his sister Maggie what women did in bathtubs that took so long. She’d given him one of those “I Am Woman” superior looks and told him he wouldn’t understand.

Women and bathtubs. He shook his head and got the steaks out of the refrigerator, where they’d been marinating. The broiler was already hot. He was forking the steaks onto the broiler pan when she spoke.

“You’re cooking!”

“I said I would.”

“No, I mean really cooking. I smell herbs—oregano?—and you’re cutting up vegetables.”

“Vegetables for the salad, oregano and rosemary in the marinade for the steaks.” He closed the oven door and glanced at her. Then paused, startled. “Your hair is curly.”

Her hand lifted self-consciously to touch the damp curls. “I couldn’t find a blow-dryer, so I towel-dried it.”

“I don’t have one.” He couldn’t stop staring. She looked so pretty with her face all warm and pink from her bath and her hair all messy with curls. His sweats pretty much swallowed her, of course. She’d rolled up the sleeves and the pant legs several times. “You always wear your hair all smoothed out.” He shook his head. “It looks nice smooth, but I like it like this. Curly and a little wild.”

“I like it smooth.” She wandered around, inspecting his kitchen with a small, worried vee between her eyebrows. “I had no idea you knew how to cook. Your kitchen—” She waved one hand at the counter. “Everything’s clean. Not just wiped-down clean, but put-away clean. The rest of your place is a mess, but the kitchen is neat. And you’ve got enough pots hanging in the pot rack to open a kitchen supply store.”