to enter the kitchen?” he asked sternly, giving her an odd look before turning back to the fridge and removing a container of leftover ginger-lime carrots and another of seared scallops.
“No...no. Of course not. I just thought you were looking for her. Just...never mind,” she said, shaking her head as she set the supplies on the counter and began walking out of the room.
Annoyance sparked in him. This is ridiculous.
“Have I done something to offend you or make you so uneasy around me?” he asked, feeling as if she saw him as a wolf about to jump on his prey.
Of that, she shouldn’t worry. This shy and reserved woman unable to look him in the eye was hardly his type. He was tempted by fire and confident sex appeal. She appeared afraid of her own shadow.
Monica whirled, her face filled with her surprise. “Of course not, Mr. Cress,” she insisted.
Gabe was surprised by the sudden knot in his gut as he eyed the rare show of emotion she displayed. The first he’d seen in five years. It opened her face. Brought life and light to it. And interest. For the first time, he noticed she was pretty. If by instinct his eyes quickly took in all of her. A man studying a woman.
She favored Zoe Saldana. Medium brown complexion. Long dark brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail that emphasized her high cheekbones and doe-shaped eyes with long lashes. Beneath her black T-shirt and pants, he could tell she was tall and slender but curvy. He even found the flat mole near the corner of her left eye intriguing.
He wondered just what other emotion she hid beneath the surface. Passion? Desire? Pleasure? Satisfaction?
How would her face be transformed during her climax? Dazed eyes? Gaped mouth?
The thought of that caused his heart to skip a beat, as temptation rose with a quickness.
Easy, Gabe. Easy.
“I just wanted to make sure I’ve never done anything to make you uncomfortable with me,” he said, setting aside the allure of a subdued woman with hints of fire beneath the surface—a taste in women he had never known himself to have before.
She looked at him and visibly swallowed over a lump in her throat. “No. Never,” she assured him, her voice soft.
No. Not soft. Husky. Throaty.
Well, well, well. Who knew?
“I don’t want to interrupt your schedule,” Gabe said, crossing the kitchen to retrieve a plate from the glass-paned cabinet she stood beside. “I’m just getting some lunch because I’m working from home today.”
She stepped back from his sudden nearness.
He frowned a bit as he looked down at her. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she looked away. She had to be close to his age of thirty-two, so her nervousness piqued his curiosity. “Monica,” he said, his voice low.
She looked up at him. “Sir?” she said, wringing her hands together in front of her.
Oh.
Her truth was in the depths of her doe-shaped eyes.
Gabe was a man quite familiar with women. As a chef he was a connoisseur of wine, needing the right accoutrement to the food he created. His experience with women reached the same expert level. Standing before him was a woman made nervous because she liked him. Was aware of him. Desired him.
Of that he was sure.
His body warmed over at the thought of her interest. He cleared his throat and moved back across the kitchen to plate his food before warming it in the microwave.
Bzzzzzz.
He reached for his vibrating phone and checked the caller ID. It was an old acquaintance calling. Felicity. He thought of the tall and shapely beauty with big eyes, lips and thighs, but didn’t answer the call. It had been weeks since they’d spent time together, and he wasn’t interested in striking up a new round of their on-again, off-again dalliance. She’d wanted nothing more than access to his upscale lifestyle, and he’d been satisfied with beautiful arm candy who was very eager to do nothing more than keep a smile on his face. Her first not-so-subtle hint of marriage had cooled his ardor.
Gabe was as adamant about his success in business as he was about avoiding a serious relationship. His romantic history had proven he was unable to balance the expectations of love and the duties of his career without someone suffering, so he chose the latter, enjoying the prestige, the challenge and the admiration of a father who, like himself, expected nothing but the very best.
Felicity had unknowingly served as a reminder of the sophisticated