When she reached behind her head to gather her hair into a ponytail, he stopped her.
“Leave it loose,” he said quietly. “It’s beautiful.”
She blinked up at him, surprised by either his words or his tone…or both. Pleasure shone in her eyes and battled with the spark of confusion he could read in her expression.
“Thanks, but when I’m cooking it just gets in the way.”
“Right.” Lucas nodded and told himself to get a grip. Yes, he was trying to seduce her, but he was also trying to stay clear of the web he already felt her spinning.
Women like her were dangerous, and Sean’s warnings came flying back into his mind suddenly. Things like…no way does this end well.
Damned if he’d back away now, though. He took an emotional step back and changed the subject entirely. “So, what’s the menu?”
She frowned, probably wondering why his tone had shifted so abruptly. But a moment later, she seemed to push aside any misgivings and said, “We’re making steak quesadillas, Mexican rice and roasted asparagus.”
“Well, you had me up until the asparagus.”
She laughed. The sound rippled from her and seemed to drift through the kitchen. Lucas smiled and realized that he’d really missed her over the last couple of days. He hated like hell to admit that even to himself. But when she wasn’t here, the big old house he loved felt…empty, in a way it never had before.
Easily explained, he assured himself silently while she gathered her hair into a ponytail, then moved around the kitchen with a familiar air.
Normally, he didn’t bring women to his home. When he had a woman in his life, they either met at her place or wound up at a luxury hotel for the night. He didn’t bring them here, because an invitation to his house sent out the wrong signals. The minute a woman started getting comfortable, she’d begin to think of what she had with Lucas as something more than temporary.
And it never was.
It wasn’t just that, though. His gaze swept the kitchen quickly, taking it all in. This house was his sanctuary. His man cave, he guessed. And sharing it with a parade of women would only make it less than what it was to him.
“Serious thoughts?”
Caught, he glanced at her and shook his head.
“No,” he lied. “Just watching the teacher. Making mental notes.”
“Ah,” she said with a quick smile. “Then step right up, student, and let’s get to work.”
Six
“That was great,” Lucas said, lifting his glass of red wine for a long sip. “Seriously good.”
“Thanks.” Rose smiled to herself at the compliment. The dinner really had turned out well. “I hoped you would like them. You’ll have to get a good cast-iron pan and then season it before you use it.”
“Season it?”
“I’ll show you how. But the cast iron makes all the difference when you’re frying the quesadillas—makes them crisp and keeps the cheese-and-steak filling nice and hot. And when you make them for yourself, remember you can add diced green chilies if you want to spice them up a little.”
“Nothing wrong with spicy,” he said softly.
Rose got a chill just from the look in his eyes and the timbre of his voice. Any spicier right now, she thought, and she just might burst into flames.
He set his glass down, leaned his forearms on the table they shared beneath the big bay window and said, “You’re a terrific cook, Rose. Why’re you doing this when you could be running your own restaurant?”
“Oh…” She sat back, looked at him and sighed a little. “I admit, the thought of owning a restaurant and creating amazing dishes is wonderful. I actually wanted to go to the CIA—”
“And be a spy?”
She laughed. “Culinary Institute of America.”
“Ah. Entirely different sort of classes then,” he said, smiling.
“Completely.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“Lots of reasons,” she admitted, though she wouldn’t go into specifics. What would be the point of telling him that at first her father and then Dave had submarined her plans. And then she had married Henry for all the wrong reasons, trapping herself in a marriage that was way less than happy. No, she didn’t want to talk about any of that, so she said only, “Mainly, money. It’s expensive, and I just can’t do it right now.”
“I don’t get it,” he said softly.
She read the confusion on his face and knew what he was thinking. Why would money be a problem for one of the Clancys? She had grown up wealthy and could be still, if she was willing to give up being her own boss and slide back under the protective and suffocating cloak her big brother wanted to throw over her.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said.
“Sure it does. You’re a Clancy, Rose.”
She didn’t want to get into this. It was no one’s business, after all. But sitting here in the dimly lit kitchen across the table from a gorgeous man looking at her with sincere interest in his gaze was hard to ignore.
“The truth is, I could go to the CIA if I were willing to move back into the family home and have Dave dictate my life for me.”
“What?”
“Wow.” She blew out a breath and laid one hand against the fluttering nerves in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
“Well, you did,” Lucas said, “and you can’t leave it like that. Explain.”
“Now that I’ve started,” she agreed, “I really should explain. Look, I know you and Dave don’t speak anymore…”
His features iced over in a blink.
“And, I can tell by your expression you don’t want to talk about that. But let me just say, I love my brother. He’s always been good to me. He’s just a little…”
“Overbearing?” Lucas supplied.
“Overprotective,” she corrected. “And since Dad died, Dave’s gotten worse.”
“I was sorry to hear about your dad,” Lucas murmured.
She looked up into his eyes and did read genuine regret there, and she was pleased. Whatever had gone wrong between Lucas and her brother, at least he wasn’t taking it out on her. Staring at him across the table now, she felt at ease with him as she didn’t with many people—men, especially.
Usually the men she met were after something. They wanted to use her to get to her brother. Coming from money wasn’t always the happy thing that most people imagined it would be. For one thing, you never knew if someone liked you for yourself or for your bank account.