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The impulse to gravitate toward him was almost irresistible, but she drew on enough self-discipline not to. Pulling herself both mentally and physically away from him, she turned toward the louvered half doors that led into the kitchen. "I need to check on dinner."
"What are we having? It smells scrumptious."
He reached the swinging doors in time to see her bending down to check the simmering contents in the oven. The view was captivating and stirred up another of Cage's appetites, one more ravenous than that in his stomach.
"Stuffed pork chops, asparagus with hollandaise… Do you like asparagus?" He nodded and she looked relieved. "Potatoes with parsley and butter, hot rolls, and Milky Way ice cream."
"You're kidding! Milky Way ice cream?"
"No, I'm not kidding, and I paid for the Milky Way bars."
He ignored the jibe and pushed through the swinging doors. As soon as she had slid a cookie sheet of rolls into the oven, he clasped her arms and turned her to face him. "Trying to impress me?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"You went to a lot of trouble for me." He captured a free strand of her hair and wound it around his index finger. "Why, Jenny?"
"I like to cook." She watched, mesmerized, as he lifted the strand of her hair to his lips and kissed it, at the same time drawing her face dangerously close to his. "And … and … uh, your parents didn't like to experiment. I like to try out new recipes, but they always wanted to eat the same—"
His mouth stopped the flow of nervous chatter with a kiss. "Do I get to choose dessert?" he asked in a soft murmur when he lifted his lips from hers.
"No."
"I choose you," he said, heedless of her denial. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."
He moved forward until he had backed her against the countertop. It caught her in the small of her back. Cage molded his body to hers in a complementing fit that left little doubt as to who was female and who was male. Seconds later she was shamelessly responding to the subtle nudges against her middle and her hands were crawling up his back. The fiery embrace lasted until the smell of warm yeast rolls permeated the small kitchen.
"Cage," Jenny gasped, drawing enough breath to dispel the ringing in her ears, "the rolls are burning."
"Who gives a damn?" he growled against her throat.
"I do." She pushed him away. "I worked hard on them."
He sighed and stepped back so she could retrieve the rolls from the oven. "Do you mind if I take off my jacket?"
"Are you too warm?"
For answer one of his sand-colored eyebrows arched upward. "Hot, Jenny darling, hot."
He joined her at the table a few moments later in his shirt-sleeves. "This looks delicious," he said, seating her before he sat down. She served him and waited anxiously for his verdict after the first bite. "Better than my mother used to make," he said.
Pleased, she smiled and began eating. "Have you seen them, Cage?"
"Who? Oh, Mother and Dad? No. At least not to speak to. Have you?"
"No. I feel guilty about driving this wedge between them and you."
He laughed mirthlessly. "Jenny, that wedge has been there since I was old enough to toddle."
"But my mov
ing out and the baby have made things worse. I hate that. I was hoping you'd be drawn closer together. They need you now."
His eyes wandered around the apartment. "You know, I think they'd be jealous if they could see what you've done here."
"Jealous?"
"Yes. I think they wanted you to need them as much as they needed you. And you didn't. You don't. They were afraid to let out your leash on the chance you'd discover that. So they kept you bound to them by obligation."
