"Thanks for the horse treats." His hand brushed hers as he took the bag.
"Anytime." And she meant that sincerely. If Matthew would consider walking in here once or twice a day in a tight T-shirt, he'd contribute substantially to her job satisfaction.
His gaze lingered on her face, touching her hair, her eyes, her mouth. For one brief moment it dropped to her cleavage before moving back to her eyes. "See you at lunch."
She could barely breathe. "Right."
"I need to go." But he didn't move.
"Yes." Heat sluiced through her, and if he didn't leave soon, she was liable to forget her vow not to be the aggressor in this relationship.
"What time tonight?"
A slight roughness in his voice told her that he was anticipating it as much as she was. "How about eight?"
"I'll be here."
"Me, too." And she'd take a second shower and put on her sexiest underwear before then.
His expression softened, almost as if he might kiss her, but then he shook his head and turned. "Gotta go." Putting on his hat, he walked away with a determined stride. But at the kitchen doorway, he stopped abruptly.
When he turned, she held her breath, certain he was about to close the distance and take her in his arms, after all. Heart beating wildly, she moistened her lips. "Did you forget something?"
"Yes." But instead of coming back and scooping her into a scorching embrace, he stayed by the door. "What do you think of baking some cornbread to go with the ratatouille?"
She almost laughed. She'd been thinking passion and he'd been thinking cornbread. There was no predicting what was going through a man's mind.
"I could do that."
"Great. See you later." And he was gone.
Turning back to the counter, she took a deep breath. The guy was seriously potent, and she'd have to stay focused on her cooking this morning or no telling what she'd end up serving for lunch. She opened the spice drawer looking for the jar of bay leaves.
She'd just located it when she was startled by the sound of booted feet and a strong hand gripping her arm. Matthew spun her around, pulled her against his chest, and kissed her. She barely had time to register the heat of his body and the firm pressure of his sculpted mouth before he let her go.
His breathing was ragged as he stepped back and crammed his hat on his head again. "Some things can't be put off," he said. "And that was one of them." He turned and left the kitchen.