That was way too much information. She knew she’d made a mistake by the way his body froze. He wasn’t the kind of man to walk away from a woman in danger. She knew that. Why had she said something so stupid? Was she trying to get him killed?
He mesmerized her. She just blurted things out around him. Let him see who she was. Made her break every rule she had. But really? Asking her to let him into her life? How amazing was that? How many men were that sweet? He made her want to cry and she didn’t cry. She never cried. Never. That was a rule too, an unbreakable one.
“I know that too, baby,” he said. “I’m not asking for anything but you to let me in. That’s all. I’ve done dangerous before and I’ll be careful.”
She felt his breath on her neck and she closed her eyes briefly against the tidal wave of need rising. She was so alone. She didn’t have friends. She’d never had a friend. She tightened the screw and handed him the screwdriver. She had no choice but to put her hand on his shoulder as she began the climb down.
“I don’t want you dead.” Catarina didn’t look at him when she said it.
He began screwing in the other side. “I won’t get dead. We’ll work out and I can show you some moves. Have coffee now and then. Sneak in a dinner, even if it’s takeout. I like your company. Truth is, Kitten, I haven’t had much to laugh about in a long time, and you do that for me.”
Her bare feet hit the floor and she rested her forehead on the rung, fists clenched around the ladder, breathing deep. Panic was close. He wasn’t going away. She heard that in his voice. She knew he was persistent in his casual Zen way. He wasn’t walking away from her and leaving her in her mess of a life.
“I don’t know what to do with you, Ridley.”
His laugh was unexpected. Low with a hint of gentleness in it. She felt his laughter move right through her body.
She looked up at him, frowning. “Why is that funny?”
He glanced down at her. “I knew you were going to give me attitude.”
His eyes were laughing, pure gold this time, and her stomach did that peculiar roll so rough that she pressed a hand to it, hard, trying to glare at him. “I was not giving attitude. It was a simple question. What was funny about what I said?”
“You’re the only woman on the face of this earth that would say that and mean it,” he said.
“Do you have any idea how arrogant you are?”
“Honest isn’t the same thing as arrogant, Cat,” he pointed out.
“First, I’m going to bang my head on the wall and then drink the rest of my coffee and then make food. I think you’re making my blood sugar drop to zero. Either that or you’re just making my head crazy. Either way, I need food. You want some?”
“Absolutely. I’m always ready for food. You getting takeout?”
She gave him a look that should have fried him on the spot, but he didn’t seem in the least fazed by it. “Commencing head banging,” she said, and walked over to the wall.
He burst out laughing. “Woman, you bang your head on that wall and I’m coming down off this ladder and you won’t like what happens after that.”
It was a threat, one she didn’t understand, so she ignored it and went straight to the kitchen. She loved her kitchen. The only thing it lacked was a view, but if she wanted a view while she cooked, she could sneak glances at Ridley while he worked. She liked the sound of his laughter, and more, she liked the fact that she could make him laugh.
She didn’t want him there because it was dangerous for him, but still, she wanted him there because she was lonely and needed to laugh with someone. She took a deep breath and let it out. She was careful. Very careful. Rafe hadn’t found her yet, and that just might mean she’d finally figured out how to keep him from finding her. She would never be able to live out in the open, but she was happy and if she let herself have a friend or two, maybe it would work out.
She closed her ears to the voice that told her she was being naïve and it wasn’t fair to put good people in danger. She was so lonely she hurt with every breath she took. She hadn’t realized just how lonely until Malcom had offered her his warehouse. She’d been so suspicious of his motives, but he’d been kind to her when she needed it the most. Kind when she was totally vulnerable. He hadn’t ever once said or done anything to indicate he had a motive beyond that – beyond simple kindness.
She hadn’t known that existed until Malcom had come along. She didn’t know kind people. She didn’t know what to do with them. She found herself smiling as she fixed breakfast, every now and then sneaking a peek at Ridley’s very nice behind encased in snug-fitting blue jeans.
Ridley worked hard and fast, meticulously though, adjusting each camera exactly the way he wanted it, so that every single corner of the warehouse was exposed with the exception of her bedroom and the bathroom. He didn’t talk anymore, leaving her free to concentrate on her cooking. She loved cooking.
That had been one of the few things she’d been allowed to do and she’d poured herself into learning. She’d excelled to the point that eventually Rafe preferred her meals to the ones his chef fixed. He hadn’t ever told her that, but he had fired the chef and one of his men came to her every morning and asked for a list of things she wanted from the grocery store.
She had used the money she saved on a security system to buy a very nice espresso machine yesterday, one of the better ones she could work with to make Ridley his favorite drink. Right now, she wanted espresso with the beignets she’d made to go along with their breakfast.
“Come eat,” she called, without looking up. She was nervous. Really nervous. This was important to her, the one thing besides making coffee she thought she was good at and she wanted Ridley to think she was good at it too.
She didn’t want him to see her nerves. She tried to be casual as if it didn’t matter when she served the Creole red beans under two poached eggs topped with hollandaise sauce. She grilled Andouille sausages and spicy hash browns. The espresso was perfect and the beignets were hot out of the frying oil.
She sat in the chair opposite Ridley’s, so nervous she had to twist her hands together in her lap as he sat down. She watched him though. She couldn’t help it. His eyes moved over the food and came back to her face.
“Kitten.” He breathed his nickname for her.