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Carla giggled delightedly. “I’d like to hear her answer to that.”
Removing several fluffy towels from the hall closet, Philip handed them to her. “While you’re making yourself beautiful, I’m going to make us something to eat.”
Hugging the fresh towels, Carla gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Philip. I honestly mean that.”
He shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Are you sure you don’t need someone to wash your back?” he asked in a low, seductive voice.
“I’m sure.” But the look he gave her as he turned toward the kitchen was enough to inflame her senses. Never had she felt this strongly about anyone after such a short time. Maybe that was normal. They had only a week together, and already three of those precious days had been spent. All too soon the time would come when she’d say good-bye to him at the airport. And it would be good-bye.
The water felt fantastic as it sprayed against her soft skin. When she’d finished showering, she put the robe on and opened the bathroom door to allow the steam to escape.
“Your dress is dry, if you want me to bring it to you,” Philip called to her from the kitchen.
“Give me a minute,” she shouted. Carla’s russet-red curls were blown dry and tamed with the curling iron in record time. Her face was void of makeup, and she knew she looked much paler than usual, but one kiss from Philip would correct that.
Tying the sash of the robe as she walked across the living room carpet, Carla sniffed the delicate aroma drifting from the kitchen.
“Mushrooms,” she announced, and picked one out of the sizzling butter with her long fingernails and popped it into her mouth.
“Canned, I’m afraid.”
“No problem, I like mushrooms any way they come.” She lifted out another and fed it to Philip. His shirt was dry and tucked neatly into his waistband. Her dress, she’d noticed, was hanging off a knob from the kitchen cabinet.
Peeking inside the oven, she turned around delightedly. “I don’t suppose those are T-bone steaks under the grill?”
“Yup, but they’ll take time. I had to get them out of the freezer.” Philip set the cooking fork beside the skillet and reached for her. His hands almost spanned her waist. “But then we have lots of time.”
But not nearly enough, her heart answered.
—
Hours later, after they’d consumed an entire bottle of wine and eaten their fill, they washed and dried the dishes. Soft music played romantically in the background.
“Philip?” Carla tilted her head as she released the plug from the sink to drain the soapy water.
He looked at her expectantly. “Hmm?”
“There’s a scar on your back. I don’t think I’d noticed it before. What happened?” she asked curiously.
“It’s nothing.” He stooped down to place the skillet in the bottom cupboard.
“It didn’t feel like it. It’s long and narrow, like…like…” She stopped cold. A painful sensation in the pit of her stomach viciously attacked her, and she leaned weakly against the counter. “Like a knife. You were stabbed, weren’t you?”
Lifting up the frames of his glasses, Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear under his breath.
“You didn’t want me to know. Well, I do now,” she said, and gestured defiantly with her hand. “What happened? Did you decide to step in and break up a gang war all by yourself? You were willing to try your hand at that this morning.” Her voice shook.
“No, it wasn’t anything like that. I was—”
“I don’t want to hear. Don’t tell me.” She searched frantically for her hat, moving quickly across one room and into the other.
“First you demand to know, then you claim you don’t want to know. I hope you realize how unreasonable you sound,” he said with a low growl.
“I…don’t care what I sound like.” Her hat was beside her purse in the other room, and she practically raced to it. “One look at you and I should have known you were bad news. But oh no, I had to follow this crazy scheme of Nancy’s and make a complete fool of myself. It’s not going to work, Philip. Not for another day. Not for a week. Not at all. I’m going back to the hotel.”
“Carla, will you listen to me?” Philip stuffed his hands into his pants pockets, and his face hardened with a grimness she hadn’t expected to see in him. “It’s working, believe me, it’s working.”
“Maybe everything is fine for you. But I don’t want to get involved. Not with you.”
