“I knew places like this existed, but this is the first time I’ve ever been inside one of these cabins,” she said, taking the sweatpants, pullover, and T-shirt he handed her. “It’s gorgeous, and I’ll be sure to have a good look at everything in the morning.” Her gaze locked with his. “Before we leave.”
He flicked on a tight smile and broke the eye contact. “Sure. Have a great shower.”
Piper growled quietly to herself, sounding not unlike the miserable cat, as she peeled off her damp clothes. She should not feel like a heel for being eager to leave in the morning and actually saying so. She slapped damp garments on the tiled floor. So, okay, Matt DeLeo had possibly saved her life, but that didn’t mean she owed him…and he’d given her a roof over her head for the night and fed her mangy cat premium tuna and was being very gentlemanly, all things considered.
“You are a heel,” she muttered to herself and turned the shower on full blast.
Matt yawned and stretched as she reached the bottom step of the stairs after her shower. “I’m beat. You must be, too.”
“I feel half dead, but so much better after that shower.” She forced a grin. The least she could do was try and be nice, since none of this was his fault. But being brittle was her instinctive way of denying the attraction she felt toward him, of not making a fool of herself by letting him know he was hotter than Sanibel in July. “And is there under floor heating in here? The wood feels great on my bare feet.”
He nodded and picked up a beer bottle from the low side table next to a squashy red sofa. “I needed a drink to settle my nerves, want some?”
“Tempting, but I remember the last time we drank together.”
“In town?” He feigned an innocent look. “I don’t remember burning up the tapas bar.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not going to take advantage of this situation, and would you let me anyway?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, there you go.”
“And why would you want to take advantage of me?” She let out a hollow laugh. “You’re on Forbes’ most wanted bachelor list, why the hell would you want to choose me again?”
“You’re hard on yourself. I have high standards, especially with women. I need food as well as a drink. Hungry?”
“I could eat my own feet.”
“It’s great that I have three freezers stocked with gourmet food and TV dinners then, huh?”
“Seriously?”
“Three is my lucky number. Come on, challenge me. Tell me what you really want to eat more than anything in the world right now and maybe it can be done. Just for you, my very special guest.”
She grinned. “I don’t want lobster.”
“Too bad, there’s bound to be a ton of it. That’s one of the reasons the rent on this place is so high.”
She tugged at an earlobe as she considered the challenge and was tempted to concoct something completely ridiculous, but the gnawing in her stomach took the fun out of the idea. She was too hungry to peel crustaceans from shells. “Cheeseburger, sweet potato fries, Jack Daniels barbeque sauce, and jalapenos on the side.”
He chuckled. “You want a stack of onion rings with that?”
“Why not? Now rise to the challenge while I fuss over the cat. Go, DeLeo, go.”
Within half an hour, the meal had been cooked and devoured, the cat had curled up under the blanket in her room and gone to sleep, and Piper was feeling much more relaxed. She was also secretly impressed with Matt’s expertise in the kitchen. He was a great cook, and she hadn’t expected that. He was also surprisingly easy company, as long as she could keep her eyes off the way his black T-shirt strained over his shoulders and broad chest, and the neon blue and black tentacles of the octopus tattoo that curled out from beneath his short sleeves.
She’d love to see the whole piece of art again, the way it was worked so skillfully over his hard bicep and shoulder blade. She wanted to run her fingertips over that smooth flesh again, too, but she wiped her mouth with a napkin a little harder than necessary in the hope that the discomfort would drive such thoughts right out of her mind. “That was the best meal I’ve had since yesterday.”
“High praise. What did you have yesterday? Cold pizza?”
“No, Sophie and I had fish and chips takeout delivery from the Railway Tavern. Please don’t tell me you cooked that yourself as well as poured beer.”
He chuckled. “No, I employ a fully qualified kitchen staff. The new head chef is a Brit. The fish and chips experiment is his idea. Any good?”
“It was amazing! You’ll have to try it yourself.”
“I’ll let the chef know.”
“So…” She wasn’t sure what to do with herself now that they’d eaten. It was quiet in the cabin besides the gusts of wind and lashing of snow against the windowpanes. “What do people do out here in the evening?”
“Pretty much anything they like. There’s internet, TV, conversation, and eventually…bed.”
She’d walked straight into that one. “And books,” she said breezily, nodding toward the bookshelves tucked beneath the stairs. “You must read a lot.”
“Not much.” He grinned and there was a devilish sparkle in those dark eyes. “The interior decorators stuck those in. An eclectic mix of reading material was how they described it. I stick to magazines and then recycle them.”
“And there I was beginning to think you were a hoarder. Are all the tasteful ornaments and strategically placed antiques placed by the interior decorators as well?”
“You got it. I don’t collect stuff. Life’s hard enough without getting attached to inanimate objects. I like to live and travel light.”
She drew her feet up and hugged her knees. “I won’t be selling many of my products to you in that case. They’re all impractical. Sparkly.”
He tipped his head to one side. “You never know, I’m always buying new properties. I’ll give my people your details and insist they use you.”
“I wasn’t angling for business!”
He raised a fingertip to his full lips to quiet her protestation. “But I want to.”
She shrugged and decided not to fight him. She could use the business and he clearly had money to burn, so why not use his connections with his blessing? Nothing immoral or underhanded about that. “I’ll make sure they get the best service and I’ll throw in some limited edition specials.”