Page 37 of Zane

"White wine." His voice was rusty as if he hadn't used it in ages.

"It will go well with the lobster." Taking the bottle from him, she nodded toward the coat tree. "You can leave your jacket there."

He finally found his voice when he followed her into a very cozy kitchen, the scent of garlic and seafood spicing the air.

"Something smells mighty good."

Sending a smile over her left shoulder, she walked toward the granite counter, the rose silk sheath sliding over very seductive curves. It was not only the food; she smelled good enough to eat.

"What can I do?" He had to do something to take his mind off his raging desire.

"Nothing. Everything is about finished." She busied her hands with settling the wine into a bucket of ice. He wasn't the only one flustered. She had opened the door, taken one look at him in his usual black, and wanted to jump him. The man was lethal, especially in black, with the tangle of dark hair flowing freely down his shoulders. Saliva was pooling at the corner of her mouth.

"We'll eat at the table." Making sure she stayed clear, Kara gestured to the already set table. A pretty bowl of fruit sat in the middle of it. "Make yourself at home."

He waited until she was taking the bowl of lobster drenched in garlic and butter to the table and took it from her.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

A large bay window overlooked a charming garden bursting with flowers. The chilly fall weather had done nothing to dampen the colors. In fact, the trees crowding the area added more colors: the red, gold and russet vibrant against a few willows with the leaves wafting in the breeze.

"Nice view," he commented.

"I love to watch it from here. The very reason I chose this location for the dining table."

He pulled out her chair and waited for her to be seated before sitting at the other end. The space was small enough to have their knees brushing.

"You cook," he murmured, picking up his utensils to take a sample.

"It relaxes me, but cooking for one isn't much fun. What do you think?"

He wanted to know if he had misconstrued the invitation and it was to be only dinner, but he decided to forgo the question. Taking a bite, he savored and then nodded. "As good as it smelled."

She beamed at him and scooped up wild rice. The crisp garden vegetables were arranged prettily on the plates, giving everything an appealing look. She poured wine and handed him a glass.

"Thanks." Searching around, he thought of several things to talk about and remained blank. "Why the invitation to dinner?" He could have bitten off his tongue as soon as the words were out.

Instead of being surprised by the question, she took it in stride. Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a sip and nodded in appreciation.

"You invited me to go and have coffee; I wanted dinner in this setting." Her beautiful mahogany eyes met his. "It seems to me that you're interested in more than just coffee. Was I right?"

He swallowed the delicately flavored lobster gamely down a throat that had gone as dry as dust and wondered why he didn't choke.

"Yes."

"Great. It seems we're on the same page."

"I had the feeling we weren't. Before." He really should stop talking, he mused grimly.

"Things changed."

"I noticed that." His eyes skimmed over her hair and her face. "How come?" Christ, man, give it a rest!

The tip of her tongue touched her bottom lip, a tiny movement that he would have missed if he hadn't been staring at her. A tiny movement that had his insides tangling and twisting. Heat spurted through his body like molten lava, leaving him shaken.

"I decided that it was time I took control of my life."