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Her cheeks flushed a becoming pink, and he smiled against her skin before straightening. Taylor gave a sharp inhale as they moved deeper into the house and the great room spilled into view. Her eyes roamed over the floor to ceiling fireplace and the high plant shelves spanning one side of the massive chamber. The light from the two-story window bay on the back wall bounced off the rich gleam of the leather furniture and spilled into the kitchen to their right.

“I think you could fit my whole apartment in this area,” she mumbled. “Twice.”

She turned and ran a finger over the black granite island, her eyes bulging at the double stainless steel ovens and matching appliances. He winced as she took in the second sink and shot him a look of utter disbelief.

Scratching the back of his, head, Sebastian stared at the travertine floor. “Standard option for this model, but I like to cook so it’s convenient. One’s for dishes, one’s for prepping.”

“You cook?” she asked, her face twisting with playful doubt.

“I prefer it over eating out,” he said softly. “I find the mindless repetition somewhat relaxing.” He pointed to a door past the vast eating area off the kitchen. “Pantry,” he explained. “Just past that is a half bath if you want to get cleaned up before we start. The door to the right leads to the laundry room and garage. Try not to get lost.”

Taylor laughed at his teasing wink. ”Maybe I should leave a trail of breadcrumbs, just in case.”

“Only if you plan on them leading upstairs as well.”

“I don’t know that I could find my way there,” she mused, glancing around again.

Sebastian smirked. Turning, he pointed to a set of stairs leading up off the kitchen.

Taylor shook her head. “Two staircases. That is insane.”

His smile never reached his eyes. “Not insane, just practical in a house this size. Now go,” he warned, tipping his head toward the bathroom.

A short while later the house was suffused with pleasant warmth from both fire and stove. Water boiled behind them, sending thick billows of steam into the air as he and Taylor finished cutting out ravioli squares. He was hard pressed not to stare and to keep his hands on task. Her sleek dark hair, big grey eyes, and rounded features were gorgeous, but the way she kept biting her lip and knitting her forehead in concentration was adorable. If he wasn’t so hungry, he would’ve found another use for the counter space. Blowing out a deep breath, he turned to stir the thickening Alfredo and wine sauce.

She hummed to the soft notes of the music playing in the background. Sebastian watched her with a smile as she tried to dice through the mushrooms they’d piled onto chopping blocks. It was obvious the truck stop diner only taught their chefs so much. Slinking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed against her back. The heat from her body and the subtle scent of her perfume were almost his undoing. Closing his eyes, he tried to peg the aroma radiating from her skin. A rich warm vanilla made his mouth water with the desire to taste her, and he detected the barest hint of cashmere.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he murmured, closing his hand over hers and wrapping it around the curve of the knife handle. He leaned over her, assisting her hands. Soon, she had the hang of it and was chopping away like a pro. Burying his face in her hair, he stayed behind her, enjoying the gentle movements rippling through her body.

“Sebastian?” Taylor asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“Are you harboring a fugitive in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

He cocked his head in confusion then it dawned on him. “I believe that’s my pistol you feel.”

“Huh. Is that what they are calling it these days?” she stated dryly. She couldn’t contain the giggle that followed.

“No really,” he said pulling back with an amused chuckle. “It’s my pistol. I got distracted and forgot to take it off earlier.”

She turned to face him. Her expression was serious and almost wounded. “You brought a gun to pick me up?”

Peeling off his holster, he dropped it on the counter and met her stare with a steady gaze of his own. “I always carry a gun, Taylor. The things I’ve done—the number of people I have pissed off during my career, I’d be a fool not to. Does that upset you?”

“It’s a little unnerving,” she admitted, hugging herself.

“Is it my gun you’re afraid of, or is it me that unsettles you?”

“A little of both.” She hung her head and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Weapons are only safe in the hands of people who are comfortable using them. Otherwise, they can very easily be turned against you.” He cupped her chin and looked her in the eye. “You’re going to have to learn how to shoot something besides an airsoft or a paintball gun if things go any further between us. That’s for your benefit, as well as my mine. I have a lot of enemies, and the last thing I need is to be distracted at work because I’m worried about what’s going on at home. If that’s going to be an issue for you, it’s better to say so now and get it over with.”

“I know how to shoot. I’m good at pegging bottles and cans. It’s just a different ballgame when it’s a person,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t even hunt because I can’t stand the thought of hurting anything.”

Sebastian folded his arms, reclining one hip against the counter. “There’s a difference between necessity and sport. If your life is on the line, you need to know that you can pull the trigger."

Taylor nibbled her bottom lip, her head shaking slowly. “I don’t know that anyone knows that for sure until they’re faced with it.”

“That is true to an extent, but if conditioned properly a body will respond on instinct alone.”

“I don’t have a predatory instinct,” she argued, still shaking her head. “I’ll never be a super soldier like you.”

Sebastian reined in his concern and persistence with an effort. The woman had stubbornness in spades. He blew out a long exhale. She just wasn’t ready to have this conversation. They had time; he’d make sure of that. He forced a smile to his lips.

“No one is asking you to be a soldier, but if given the chance, I think you’ll discover you’re stronger than you know,” he stated evenly. “We need to focus if dinner is going to be edible. Bring me the mushrooms.”

When presented with a task, the girl’s mind latched a hold of it. She leaned close as he mixed the filling.

“Where did you learn to cook?” she asked, eyes flickering over the spices he added.

He smiled. This was a safer topic. “I’m a man with many interests, Taylor. For the most part, I’m self-taught. I browse through recipes to get the basics, but most of it is experimentation and trial and error. I should probably attribute my mother. She was a wonderful cook, but my father never let me near the kitchen.”

“Why? Some of the best chefs in the world are men.”

Sebastian shrugged, a small frown crossing his face with the memories that threatened. “My father was a gruff man. He didn’t see it that way.”

“Is that why you joined the military at such a young age?”

He stopped stirring and set the spoon down. Bracing his hands against the edge of the counter, he lowered his head for a moment. He had told her before to ask about anything but his job and he would answer, but his father was a painful subject—a wound that never fully healed. Reaching up, he rubbed the back of his neck and nodded.

“In part, I guess it was. I wanted to serve my country as much as I wanted his approval. Unfortunately, he passed away from a heart attack while I was in basic training and that day never came. Mom was so lost without him she passed away eight months later. I guess neither of their hearts could handle the strain.”

Taylor’s hand settled between his shoulder blades and he bit back a groan as her nimble fingers kneaded away some of the tension. His eyes drifted shut. A man could definitely get used to that kind of attention.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay,” he said, straightening. “We’re still trying to feel each other out.” He shrugged. “Besides, I know if he could see me now, my father would be damn proud.”

Sebastian leaned back against the ottoman and watched the flickering firelight play across Taylor’s face. Her smile alone was enough to light the room and banish the late autumn chill. Swirling the wine in his glass, he glanced outside. Dusk had already caved, and the night had fallen into darkness except for the stars peeking through the clouds. He frowned, turning his attention back to the fire. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed a woman’s company this much. Taylor was so spirited and full of life. Several times throughout the course of night, she’d even made him laugh with some silly antic or another. That wasn’t something he experienced often, and he missed it.

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