“Hell, no. It’s a mess up there. You can sort it out when you feel better. Take one of the bedrooms downstairs. Then you don’t have to climb up and down the stairs all the time. Do you want your clothes?”
Ellie shook her head slowly. None of her old stuff would fit anymore. “I’ll go through them tomorrow.” She’d salvage whatever she could.
She could feel the tension between the two of them and Ellie wondered if she should just have him show her to her room and go to bed.
“I’m not going to apologize for kissing you,” Zane said quietly, rocking back on his heels as he put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
Ellie was startled by the abrupt change of subject, but he’d obviously been thinking as much about that kiss as she had during their tour of the house. They’d both discarded their outerwear before the tour had started, but Ellie was still overheated as she stared at Zane’s stubborn expression, her eyes unable to keep from drifting down his muscular body as he finally leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms in front of him, stretching the material of the beautiful green sweater he was wearing.
“I didn’t ask you to,” she answered quickly. “And I’m not apologizing for kissing you back.” She was silent for a few seconds before she ventured, “Maybe we should just try to forget that it happened. Everything has been pretty emotional since you found me.”
“I’ll never forget it,” he told her gutturally. “Sometimes I can’t stop looking at you because I still can’t believe you’re here, that you’re really alive. I had to touch you, Ell.” He paused for a heart-stopping moment, looking like he wanted to say more about his motivations, but didn’t. Abruptly, he turned toward the refrigerator and changed the topic, his voice casual again. “Now let’s see if there’s any food in the house. I have no idea what’s here.”
“I’m not that hungry,” Ellie protested, confused by Zane’s confession. Maybe everything still felt as surreal to him as it did to her. Maybe they just momentarily needed some kind of connection.
“Doesn’t matter. You need to eat.” He turned around and strode back to the hallway and picked up her belongings bag from the hospital and made his way back to the hallway with the bedrooms, Ellie following behind him. He stopped in one to drop off her bag. “You can stay in here,” he instructed as he stopped at the doorway on his way out of the suite. “I’m just down the hall.” He pointed to the master bedroom with the hot springs.
The suite he’d given her was a beautiful, enormous room with a sitting area and its own private bathroom. Ellie didn’t have much time to check it out because Zane grasped her hand and pulled her back out to the kitchen.
She watched as he rummaged through the cupboards and rifled through the fridge. She smiled because he looked so damn adorable as he scrutinized everything, looking like he wasn’t sure what any of the packages were or what to do with them.
“Let me guess…you don’t cook?” She crossed her arms and rested her ass against the counter.
He turned his head and gave her a questioning look. “How did you know?”
“Maybe because you just passed over plenty of edible items, but ignored every one of them because it requires some kind of preparation.” She moved to the refrigerator. “Move,” she insisted, bumping him out of her way with her hip.
She inspected the contents of the freezer, noticing there wasn’t much in the fridge. “You don’t really have anything defrosted, but I could manage breakfast for dinner.” He had plenty of eggs, cheese, and some sliced ham. There were a few potatoes that looked fairly recent, too.
“I’m not picky,” he agreed readily. “Show me how and I’ll do it.”
“You seriously can’t cook?” she asked curiously. “How do you eat?”
He shrugged. “In Denver, I order out or get stuff I can toss in the microwave. I have a housekeeper who takes pity on me and leaves me meals that I can just nuke most of the time. When I’m here, I usually have stuff around for sandwiches. I guess I ran out.”
Ellie pulled out a carton of eggs and some other items before searching for a large frying pan. Somehow it seemed funny that a guy with his IQ couldn’t cook an egg.
He’s a billionaire. He doesn’t need to cook for himself.
Ellie couldn’t even imagine what it was like to have so much money that someone could just hire someone to do everyday tasks. Strangely, it didn’t seem like he had a housekeeper here in Rocky Springs. When he’d said the house was a mess, he was right. The place could use a good cleaning, and there were stacks of papers and various items that had never been organized everywhere.
He watched as she worked, hovering as though she might fall over at any moment. It was as endearing as it was irritating.
“I’m fine, Zane. Really. I feel better just being able to be out of bed and on my feet.” Finding a task to do for him made her feel less tired and useless, and it took her mind off her troubles.
“I never thought about getting the house ready, or having somebody leave us dinner,” he grumbled.
“It doesn’t matter,” she answered honestly. “I want to help out while I’m here.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Cooking a simple meal isn’t hard labor,” she told him jokingly. “Sit.” She motioned toward the kitchen table.
He sat and thanked her as she put a plate in front of him piled high with an omelet, toast, and fried potatoes. She placed a plate with a smaller portion across from him. While gathering utensils, she reached into the refrigerator and grabbed two cans of soda and brought them to the table before sitting across from him.