“Those machines are thousands of dollars.”
“Still, you make great coffee. You don’t even have a small machine.”
“Because I’m saving for a security system.”
“I see. Well I’m installing that day after tomorrow so you can use your funds for a small machine and give me my fix while I work.”
“You’re not paying for my security system.”
“Why not?”
“Because nothing in this world comes without a price tag.”
For a moment his golden eyes went glittery again and then they seemed to melt into masculine amusement. “You’re right about that.”
She stiffened.
“My price is your coffee, Kitten. Lots of it. And then, if I get finished, we can spar a little. I’ve got a few moves that might help you.”
He turned and walked away from her toward the door without once looking back. She stood there with her mouth open.
“You going to lock this door?” He paused at the door, turning his head to stare at her over his shoulder, a small grin hovering around his mouth, lighting his eyes.
“It locks automatically.”
He nodded and sauntered out. It took her a full three minutes before she was breathing correctly again. She had no idea what just happened or how she was supposed to feel about it, so she did what she always did, she lost herself in her regular routine.
3
THE buzz was persistent. Really persistent. Annoyingly so. Catarina groaned and rolled over, her hair falling around her face, spilling across the pillow and covering her eyes and nose. The stupid buzzer blasted through the warehouse, as if someone leaned on it. It wasn’t designed to be musical. It was loud and sounded like an alarm. She put the pillow over her head and held it there in hopes of drowning out the noise, but apparently, whoever had owned the warehouse before Malcom had been totally deaf.
“All right,” she yelled, throwing the pillow and fighting her way out of the covers. She kicked several times, destroying her perfectly made-up bed, and sat up, sweeping back the mass of dark, wavy hair. It was everywhere. She looked around vaguely for a clip to tame the thick length, but the buzzer persisted, louder than ever.
“Seriously?” she muttered, and leapt to her feet, stalking through the warehouse to the front door. She flung it open, scowling ominously with blurry vision. “Are you crazy? It’s like three o’clock in the morning.”
Ridley stood there. Tall. Looking amazing. Refreshed and looking amazing. Seriously hot and amazing. “You. Are. Nuts.” She tried to close the door in his face.
He stuck his boot in the door. “Step back, Kitten, I’m coming in and I’ve got my hands full.”
He pushed open the door, and she pushed back. He was stronger, so the door swung his way. She clenched her teeth and stepped back, allowing him entry. He was carrying boxes and bags, which meant his hands were tied up.
“Cat, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like you don’t have two of your weapons and I could kick you in the thigh very hard and give you a dead leg? Like that? And then do a sweep and take both your legs out from under you? Am I giving you that kind of look? And then roll your body right out my front door? Because I’m contemplating how much of an effort that would be.”
His mouth twitched. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Of course, because you’re the most annoying man on earth, I’d have to find the wire to cut that buzzer and stop it from ever working. You’re the type that would just lay on it and wake a girl up when she just went to bed.”
“I always say dream big if you’re going to do it,” he said, not in the least bit worried. “And it’s not three in the morning, baby, it’s more like nine.”
He stared down at her from his lofty height, which only annoyed her more.
“You walked me home again last night. You know when I got to bed. This is my three o’clock in the morning.” When he didn’t turn and leave, she threw her hands in the air and then had to shove again at the wild mass of hair tumbling down to her waist.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re grumpy when you wake up?”
“As I don’t wake up around anyone, no, they haven’t.”