Page 57 of Craig

He managed to put it away. They both did.

After the initial awkwardness, they got into the spirit of the impromptu meal. She watched, fascinated, as he mixed and blended the seasoning into one big mass, before rubbing it on the outside and then the inside of the fish.

Then she insisted on stacking the vegetables on the smooth sticks he had fashioned out of wood chips. He hauled out the charcoal that had been left secured in a plastic bag, fired up the grill, and was secretly amused when she sat there, Indian-style, on a folding chair and watched as he started the fire and fanned it into full blaze.

“Why not an electric grill?”

He glanced over at her, noting that her eyes were bright with curiosity.

“We always used charcoal. Dad taught me that in order to get the full effect of the meal, the taste of the charcoal or even wood makes it even more delicious. And I’ve discovered that to be true.”

“Hmm.” She would be the judge of that.

But she loved watching the play of muscles in his arms as he efficiently and economically set about doing his task. She wouldn’t have pegged him for the outdoor type.

After all, he was the heir to a multi-billion-dollar fortune and had grown up in luxury.

But then again, he had never struck her as the trust-fund type, all snooty, behaving as if he was above the rest.

“What?”

“What?” She jumped at the question and belatedly realized that she had been staring at him.

“Nothing.” She tried to cover it up by evading.

“You’re not like your typical rich guy.”

He lifted a brow as he rolled out reams of foil paper. “What does your typical rich guy do?”

“Certainly not what you’re doing.”

“Cooking?”

“Fishing, cleaning, and gutting fish-” She shuddered delicately. “Which is something that should turn me off but surprisingly doesn’t.”

“I’m not your typical rich guy.” He carefully put the two largest fish on top of the foil and then added the vegetable sticks.

Soon, the scent filled the air and had her mouth watering.

“God! That smells wonderful.”

He flashed her a grin.

“It’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Would you mind eating out here? There’s a table-”

“I would love to eat out here.”

He nodded. “Why don’t you go and grab a couple of beers from the cooler?”

While she went to do that, he stood at the grill, turning the fish and vegetables to make them even, thinking, anticipating. She was relaxed and did not look as if she would object when he took her to bed, and he was going to.

He was done with playing it safe and being careful. They wanted each other, and there was no way on earth she could deny that she had feelings for him.

It might not be love, and she was far away from wanting to be his wife for real, but she was attracted to him, as much as he was attracted to her.

They would work their way from there. The bottom line was that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life.

*****