Hot Stuff (Hot Zone 1)

He entered just as she decided the steaks were finished. She placed them on the table along with the rest of the meal before glancing up. Looking at him was a feast for the senses. Vaughn wasn't an athlete who'd let his body go to hell after retirement. On the contrary, his T-shirt, cut off at the abdomen and the sleeves, showcased well-toned muscles and tanned skin. No man should look so good.

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?" she asked, forcing herself to focus and answer his question. "You insisted I not bring my car, then you took off, not to be seen again for hours."

He had the good manners to look embarrassed. "Sorry. I needed-"

"Space," she finished for him.

"Right." He shot her a sexy grin. "So, something's cooking." He shoved his hands into his back pockets and peered over her shoulder at the meal on the table.

"More like someone's been cooking."

"For two."

Caught, her face heated with embarrassment. "I thought if I was going to be using your food, I should at least include you in the meal. Just in case you were hungry."

Vaughn stared, surprised at the dinner on his table. He'd been a real bastard to her a

nd she'd thought about including him anyway.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly. He wasn't used to people doing things for him.

"You're welcome. You might as well sit. Unless you've already eaten?"

He shook his head. He'd been out in a pathetic attempt to outrun thoughts of the steamy summer kiss they'd shared.

No such luck. Seeing her again brought back hot memories of her sweet mouth and the way those luscious curves had felt pressed against him. With a groan, he settled into the chair across from her, resigned to the fact that she was with him, whether physically or emotionally, and would be until their working relationship ended.

"Wine?" she asked.

He nodded. "Why not."

She added to his glass, then leaned forward in her seat. "So you've been out running."

He ran a hand through his windblown hair. "That obvious?"

She shrugged. "Only to someone who's looking." Her heavy-lidded gaze met his and held, until he couldn't mistake her meaning.

He had to laugh. "I need to ask you something."

"If I can ask a question in return, I'm more than happy to answer."

He nodded. "Are you always this direct? Sexually I mean."

She steepled her fingers and paused in thought. "I suppose that depends. I generally say what I think. I can't see any sense in hiding my feelings. As for what's going on between us, I'm focused on two things."

"And those are?"

"One," she said, raising a finger. "I need your cooperation to fix the problems with the lodge and so far you're not giving me any, and two," she said, raising a second finger, "I believe in bringing things out into the open and our attraction is there whether either one of us likes it or not. So instead of letting it get in the way of work, I choose to acknowledge and deal with it, so we can move forward."

He blinked, staring at her in amazement. "Are you saying you got the attraction out of your system and can move on?" Because he sure as hell wasn't able to do any such thing, no matter how badly he wanted to.

"I said move forward." She emphasized her point with a shake of her head that had her ponytail falling over the shoulder of yet another of those jerseys she favored.

He stabbed his steak and let the fork remain. It was one thing to acknowledge the attraction, another to contemplate doing anything more about it. Moving on seemed smartest. Safest. He wasn't sure what she meant with her semantics, but she was directing the conversation and he decided to see where she was headed.

"So while we're eating, I thought we could deal with my first point and talk business."

She'd obviously decided to drop the more heated subject and he exhaled a hard sigh of relief. The knot in his stomach eased, as did the tension lodged inside him.