With that thought in mind, she flipped off the light and walked through her apartment. She stopped long enough to snatch up her black leather shoulder bag, then she was out the door and into her car before she could talk herself out of the craziest thing she’d ever done in her life.
* * *
An hour later, she was so grateful she hadn’t changed her mind about coming.
“Steak done the way you like it?” Dave asked from across the table.
“It was perfect,” Mia answered, though the truth was, she had been so hungry, if they had trotted a cow through the living room, she might have gnawed on it raw. At the moment though, she was comfortably full of steak, a luscious baked potato swimming in butter and sour cream and the best fresh green beans she’d ever eaten.
She sighed and lifted her coffee cup for a sip.
Dave was watching her, and she noted one corner of his mouth quirk.
“What’s so amusing?” she asked.
“You,” he admitted. “I’ve never seen a woman enjoy a meal so much.”
She flushed a little, then shrugged. No point in pretending she hadn’t been hungry. He had already checked her out, so he probably knew just how many packages of Top Ramen were left in the pantry. “Maybe you should broaden your horizons a little. Date a woman who eats more than half a leaf of lettuce.”
He grinned. “Might have a point.”
Her eyes met his and in the soft light of the dining room, his gray eyes looked as deep and mysterious as fog on a cold winter night. He wore a black sweater, black jeans and his familiar, scarred boots and he looked, Mia thought, dangerously good.
“I like your house,” she blurted when his steady stare was beginning to make her twitch.
“Thanks,” he said and glanced around the dining room. Mia did the same, taking another long look at her surroundings. Sadly, between her still unsteady nerves and the fact that she’d been so seduced by the scent of the meal, she hadn’t taken the time to really get a good look at the room.
One thing Mia had noticed was that every doorway in the house was arched. There was a lot of wood and a lot of stone throughout—definitely a man’s house. Even the dining room was oversized, and somehow so…male. The table could easily seat twenty. Heavy oak, the table’s thick edges were covered with intricately carved vines and flowers. Each chair boasted the same carvings and the seats were upholstered in dark red leather.
A black wrought iron chandelier provided the lighting, and framed paintings of the Texas landscape dotted the walls. Her gaze slid back to meet Dave’s and she felt that jump of nerves again. Well, she was going to have to get over that.
“Come on,” he said, pushing up from the table and holding out one hand to her. “I’ll show you around. You’ll have to know the place if you’re going to be my fiancée.”
“Okay…” She turned her head toward the closed door leading to the kitchen.
“What is it?” he asked.
Mia looked at him. “No dessert?”
Surprised, Dave laughed and this time it was real laughter, not the sardonic smirk or the condescending chuckle Mia was more familiar with. Amazing how real emotion could completely change Dave’s features from gorgeous to heart-stopping.
Oh, Mia hadn’t counted on this. Okay, yes, she’d felt that mild sizzle earlier today when Dave had touched her. But that could’ve been static electricity, too. In fact, she hadn’t felt any interest in a man in so long, she’d begun to think she was immune.
Now was not a good time to find out she wasn’t.
“Come on,” Dave said again, “I’ll take you on a tour, then we’ll have dessert in the great room.”
“All right,” she said, and stood, putting her hand in his. She determinedly ignored the fresh sizzle she felt when his hand met hers. Instead, she focused on the promise of sugar in her near future.
He kept a firm grip on her hand as they walked from the dining room and Mia idly listened to the sounds of their boot heels on the tile floor. When she’d first moved in as Alex’s housekeeper, she had been so impressed with the flawless beauty of his home. It was elegant and lovely in an understated way that she’d come to admire over the past couple years. But now, seeing Dave’s house, she was bowled over by the sheer scope of the place.
It was lovely in a completely different way from Alex’s home. This was rustic, and as she’d already thought, completely male in an unapologetic, straightforward manner. The floor tiles were beige and brown with splashes of cream to lighten the feel. The walls were a mix of stone and wood and textured, cream-colored plaster. Dark beams bracketed the high ceilings and arched windows boasted leaded glass. Every door was a curved slab of heavy, dark wood that made Mia think of centuries-old English estates.