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"What in heaven's name are you talking about?"
Laughter burst from her throat. "Basically," she said, "I guess I'm talking about you taking this fork and dealing with the bacon."
He looked at her, smiled, and took the fork. "Why do I get the feeling I'm being mocked, madam?"
She watched as he began turning the strips of bacon with an expertise that suggested he'd been teasing her almost as much as she'd been teasing him. Emotion welled up within her, constricting her throat with its impact, and she turned all her concentration on the eggs, beating them with much more force than they deserved.
"Actually," she said, pouring the beaten eggs into the skillet, "you're lucky there's bacon to cook."
"I would have thought your cold chest would keep it well."
"Oh, it does." She reached for the salt and pepper and shook some of each over the frothy eggs. "But, like most people, I hardly ever keep the stuff in the house, except for special occ-..."
She bit her lip, but it was too late. Matthew smiled.
"Meaning, you purchased it for Jason." He reached out and touched his hand gently to her cheek. "It doesn't bother me to hear his name, sweetheart, not when I can remember how quickly you sent him away."
"I didn't." Their eyes met and Kathryn sighed. "All right, I suppose I did."
"You did," he said smugly, "and it was because of me." He shook his head dramatically as he lifted the strips of bacon from the pan and placed them on the paper towels Kathryn had laid on the sink. "Where is Elvira, by the way? Doesn't she usually come to help you try and tame this monster of a house?"
Kathryn blushed. "I phoned and told her not to bother coming."
Matthew grinned. "Got rid of her, too, did you?"
"Get that self-satisfied look off your face, Captain! I just figured it would be easier than having you whisk around under our feet while we worked."
"And why would you think I'd do such a thing, madam?"
"Well... well, considering..." She swallowed. "I mean, I just thought..."
"You mean," Matthew said, whirling her into his arms and laughing, "that you didn't want to miss an opportunity to make wild, passionate love with me."
She shot him an indignant glare. "What an ego you have! Do you really think I'd..."
"Yes." His laughter faded. "Yes, sweetheart, and I wouldn't want it any other way."
They smiled at each other, kissed gently, and then Kathryn sighed and eased out of his arms.
"We wouldn't want the eggs to burn."
Matthew smiled. "No. We wouldn't. You go and sit down, then, and I'll serve."
In the end, they worked together, then sat opposite each other over a breakfast so enormous Kathryn was sure she'd have to toss most of it out, but Matthew was as good as his word, eating every bit she put on his plate.
"You're a fine cook, Kathryn," he said, after he'd devoured another slice of buttered toast thickly spread with marmalade.
She smiled, pushed aside her plate, propped her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on her hands.
"Well, I can do a pretty mean lamb stew. And people have been known to swoon over my chocolate soufflé. Not that I have much time to cook, though."
"Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why don't you have time? Here, aren't you going to finish those eggs?"
She laughed. "Don't tell me you want them!"
