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“We had dinner on the way to the city to meet Hamid, unless you had something when we got back to the cabin.”
“That was a long time ago. I think a midnight snack is in order even if it’s not quite midnight. Should we trouble the accommodating Mrs. Curtis or forage for our own meal in the kitchen?”
“The less contact we have with anyone in this house, the better.”
“This is the domain of the Bennett family. Discretion is the word.” He held a finger to his lips.
“Yeah, well, you’d be surprised at how much servants talk.”
“You mean that loyal retainer stuff is a myth?”
“For some.” She shook out some clothes and draped them over her arm. “I’m going to hit the shower. Maybe you can try the kitchen for some food.”
“That’d be the first place I’d look.”
She rolled her magnificent eyes at him and shut the door of the connecting bathroom behind her.
Mike managed to make it downstairs and find the kitchen without running into another human being in the huge house. He opened the door of the stainless Sub-Zero refrigerator and poked around the containers.
He settled on slicing some cheese, grabbing a few apples and ripping off half a loaf of French bread. He piled his booty onto a big plate and then snagged a bottle of Napa Valley chardonnay from the fridge.
He opened the bottle of wine and shoved the cork back in the top. He carefully threaded his fingers through the stems of two wineglasses, stuffed some paper towels beneath the plate and carried everything back upstairs.
When he entered the room, a cloud of lilac-scented air greeted him, and Claire floated from the bathroom dressed in one of his white T-shirts, toweling her hair dry.
She widened her eyes when she saw him. “Did you clean out the kitchen?”
“Hardly. You should see the stuff they have in there. Those servants must be living it up.” He held up the bottle of wine. “Nabbed some good stuff, too.”
“Wine? You took a bottle of—” she strolled toward him and squinted at the label “—what appears to be some very expensive wine?”
He looked at the blue label adorned with a yellow squiggly line through it. “Really? This is expensive?”
She brushed her thumb across the year printed on the label. “I think so.”
“Good.” He dislodged the cork and poured a measure of the golden liquid into one of the glasses. “You deserve it, and Jase assured me that his casa was our casa, or something like that. Said to take whatever we needed—food, clothing, cars.”
“Cars, too?” She took the glass from him and swirled the wine up its sides. “Generous guy, this Jase.”
“You got that. He owes me anyway. I’ve saved his careless ass more times than I can remember.”
She took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes. “This is good. That shower was even better.”
He set his glass down and peeled off his shirt, crumpling it into a ball. “You eat and I’ll get in the shower.”
“You said you were starving. Are you sure you don’t want to sit down and eat first?” Her fingertips trailed across his pecs and down to his belly, where a fire kindled. “I don’t mind that you’re...dirty.”
He swallowed. “I have a confession to make.”
“Really?” She walked her fingers back up his chest and drummed them against his collarbone.
“I already ate a banana downstairs, so I’m not starving anymore.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “And you’re so perfectly fresh and rosy from your shower, I don’t want to smudge you.”
She lifted her wineglass. “Hurry back...before I eat everything.”
He practically ran into the bathroom, unbuttoning his fly on his way. The steam from Claire’s shower still fogged the mirror.
He cranked on the water in the stall, big enough to house a family of four, and read the labels on the two bottles of shower gel. At least he didn’t need to smell like a lilac.
He squeezed a puddle of fresh ocean breeze into his palm and lathered up. He washed and rinsed his hair, sluicing it back from his forehead as he faced the spray. He almost felt human.
Then he felt superhuman when he walked back into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around his waist and saw Claire sitting cross-legged on the bed biting into an apple.
