Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,122

And he stole the covers. And he left wet towels on the floor.

There. She’d thought of sufficient reason to convince herself that sex was all this was, and all it could be. Hadn’t she? I have to, she thought firmly. Bargain basement grab bags and all that stuff, remember, Lila? Remember William? And with that thought to sober her, she got out of bed and went downstairs.

She found the small table expertly set with the full array of her nicest dishes, silverware, and glasses. A vase held a single red rose. It was the velvet one that had come off the box of Valentine chocolates Darren had given her last February, but she smiled anyway.

Tom turned from the stove. "Just in time. Food’s almost ready."

He wore a pair of her fleecy sweatpants. Borrows clothes without asking. Another reason not to get hung up on this guy, she thought. While she swam in the heavy material, the pants fit his rear end snugly enough to nearly be obscene. He’d wrapped one of her aprons around his waist, but his chest was bare. She noticed the marks her nails had made in the tawny skin of his back and fought back a blush. No use in acting the coy maiden. Not after last night.

"Smells delicious." Lila slid into a chair and found a mug of hot tea waiting for her. He’d put in sugar and just enough cream to turn the tea a caramel color. He’d remembered how she liked it. "Usually on work days, I just grab some cold cereal, so this is a real treat. What’s on the menu?"

"Omelettes à la Caine." Tom flipped the pan expertly to cook the eggs evenly. "Onions, green peppers, some garlic.…"

Lila groaned. "I’m starved."

Tom slid an omelet onto each of their plates and sat down at the table. "I was going to make a western omelet, but you didn’t have any ham. So I substituted."

Lila paused from drinking her tea. Here it comes. The Talk. "I don’t eat pork."

Tom paused from cutting into his omelet. She could practically see the gears grinding in his mind as he thought about her name, the subject of her sister’s paintings, perhaps the gold-and-brass menorah on her mantelpiece. As Lila watched, a slow flush crept into Tom’s cheeks. He looked as comfortable as a man sitting on a cactus.

"I’m Jewish."

He nodded. "I should’ve known."

Now she began to feel uncomfortable. "Should I have told you? We didn’t talk about religion, Tom."

For the first time since knowing him, awkward silence hung between them. She took a sip of her rapidly cooling tea. Tom cleared his throat.

"Does it matter?"

Lila met his gaze levelly. It would not have been the first time a man had lost interest in her because she didn’t celebrate Christmas. If her faith was going to be a problem, best she learn now. "You tell me."

He shook his head and laid his hand across hers. "Of course not. I just feel stupid about the ham comment. I’m sorry."

More relieved than she cared to admit, Lila squeezed his fingers. "Let’s not ruin a perfectly wonderful night by worrying about stupid things."

He lasciviously waggled his eyebrows at her. "It was pretty wonderful, wasn’t it?"

"Of course it was." Lila grinned. "I mean, look at you! You’re gorgeous! How could it not have been?"

His flirtatious grin faded abruptly. He pulled his fingers out of hers. Tom gave her a crooked smile. "So...dinner tonight?"

"Oh...I'm sorry. I can't." It wasn't a lie. She had an eye doctor appointment.

His gaze flickered. "Tomorrow? Lunch?"

She knew he was waiting for her to tell him yes, but the words didn’t seem to want to come out. She bit her lip, tried to speak, but could only make an awkward squeak.

Tom got up from the table and left his omelet uneaten. "I think I’d better go."

"Wait." It was too late. His expression told her no matter what she said, she’d only be making matters worse. "Tom. Please."

"I’ll see you around." Tom’s voice was cold as he tossed the apron onto the back of the chair. "Don’t bother to get up. I’ll find my own way out."

The slamming of the front door was like a blast of dynamite. The house felt suddenly much emptier, as if by Tom’s leaving he'd taken something vital with him. Lila stared at the remains of her omelet and felt very small.

Tom was furious. What’s more, he felt…used. A sensation he’d never before had the pleasure of experiencing, though he was guiltily certain he’d been