“It’s my specialty. Pistachio-and-pine-nut-crusted rack of venison with wild mushrooms.” As she removed the stitches from the boxer’s leg, she said, “Why don’t you stay and share my supper, Mr. Callahan? I have plenty, and everything is ready.”
He glanced toward the table set for two. “Oh … uh … thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You have to eat, and it’s not like I’m trying to date you, either.”
His stare shifted toward the kitchen, and she thought she saw a flash of regret in his eyes before he shook his head. “I thought I’d drop by the Bristlecone Café. I’ve heard the food is excellent.”
“It’s wonderful and you definitely need to try it, but it won’t be tonight. It’s Tuesday. The Bristlecone is closed on Tuesdays.”
“Oh, well …”
His obvious reluctance began to annoy her. “Are you a vegetarian? Don’t care for game? If that’s it, you really should try my venison. I promise you’ll change your mind.”
“Dr. Sullivan—”
“Nic.”
“I’m Gabe. I appreciate the invitation. Your venison sounds and smells delicious, but I’m not much company.”
“All right. What’s a little more humiliation?” She folded her arms and sighed. “Here’s the deal, Gabe. I know I’m being pushy. It’s an unfortunate tendency of mine. But the fact is that I really, really don’t want to be alone tonight. See, today is … was … my wedding anniversary. Would have been six years today if the man I married wasn’t a lying, cheating snake. Last year on this date I swore I wouldn’t spend this year wallowing in another self-indulgent pity party. If you leave me now, I’m liable to do just that. Besides, the way I figure it, you owe me. I saved your life, remember? You said yourself that I was a lifesaver. All I’m asking for in return is for you to sit down and make small talk with me while we share a gourmet meal and a really fine bottle of wine.”
Amusement lit his eyes and she could see the subtle lessening of tension in his stance. “Small talk, huh? You don’t know how much I hate small talk.”
“Deal with it, Callahan. The meat needs to sit another …” She checked the mantel clock. “Five minutes. The powder room is beneath the stairs if you want to wash up, and if you’d like a drink before dinner, the piece of furniture against the wall behind you is a bar. I filled the ice bucket earlier, so you’re good to go.”
In the kitchen, Nic gave her hips a happy little wiggle as she stirred the sauce. Okay, so this wasn’t a date. No doubt about that. Nevertheless, she’d managed to upgrade her dinner companion for tonight in a substantial way, and for that she was grateful. Excited, even. She couldn’t have asked for a better distraction on this unhappy anniversary. Gabe Callahan was downright hot. The scruffy, need-a-haircut-and-a-shave look suited him, and a girl could get drunk on those warm whiskey eyes of his.
Distracted by her thoughts and the man in her library, Nic neglected to use her hot pads as she went to pick up her roasting pan. “Yee-ouch!” she cried as the pan clattered back onto the stovetop.
She was shaking her left hand and staring at the venison, grateful she hadn’t dropped their dinner on the floor, when Callahan appeared in the doorway to her kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m an idiot. I almost dropped the roast.”
“You burned yourself,” he surmised as his gaze shifted from her to the pot on the stove. Crossing to the kitchen sink, he twisted the cold water faucet. “C’mere.”
When she moved close, he took her arm by the wrist and studied her hand as he guided it beneath the running water. “You grabbed your pan without a pad? You don’t strike me as the careless sort.”
“I have my moments of ditziness,” she replied.
Ditziness fast becoming dizziness. He’d yet to release her hand, so he stood close enough for her to smell the sandalwood fragrance of his soap. It was all she could do not to sway against him.
Nic had always been a sucker for ruggedly handsome men with well-defined abs, but with the wounded-soul thing he had going on … whoa. My oh my, he trips my trigger.
“It doesn’t appear to be too bad a burn,” he observed.
You’d be surprised. With a husky note to her voice, she murmured, “It’s fine.”
Gabe glanced up and caught her staring at the strong line of his jaw. His gaze locked onto hers, and