The Wedding Bargain

“If you’d like. I can cast off and we can start heading upriver while you get it ready.”

“Sure,” she agreed, pleased to have something to do. Anything, really, to take her mind off the confusion of her thoughts.

In the kitchen, Shanal rummaged through the refrigerator and the pantry.

“How does French toast and bacon sound?” she called to Raif, who manned the helm.

“Better than cereal, that’s for sure,” he said with a smile that all but took her breath away.

She stood there like an idiot, captured by his male beauty for far longer than was acceptable for people who were merely acquaintances—even if they had shared a bed last night. Shanal forced herself to the business at hand. What was it again? Breakfast. That’s right. She flicked a glance back Raif’s way. His focus was wholly on the river ahead, which was just as it should be, she told herself sternly.

So what if she had felt a tingle run from head to foot when he’d smiled at her? It didn’t mean anything. He was a good-looking guy, and was well aware of his charms—nor was he afraid to use them to his advantage. She’d seen the evidence of that at many a Masters family gathering, when Raif had brought one girl after another. The only girlfriend of his that she’d seen more than once had been Laurel. And, Shanal realized, since the other woman’s death, Raif had either been scarce at family do’s or had come alone.

Shanal put a pan on the stove to heat for the bacon, and then broke eggs in a shallow bowl and whipped them with a little milk, nutmeg and cinnamon, adding a tiny dash of vanilla extract to the mixture. The cabin soon filled with the scent of frying bacon, and by the time she popped the strips onto a plate in the oven to keep, and added the egg-mixture-soaked bread slices to the pan, her stomach had begun to growl.

“Smells good,” Raif commented from his vantage point.

“It’s about the only thing I know how to cook well,” Shanal said with a laugh. “So I do hope it tastes okay.”

“How is that?” Raif asked, turning in his chair to look at her.

“How is what?”

“That you can only cook one thing.”

Shanal had the grace to look a bit ashamed. “Even after I left home my mum still cooked for three every night. Before I moved back in with them, she would put meals in her freezer for me and I’d gather them up, a load at a time, when I came over to visit. So I never really had to think about cooking when I got home from work.”

Raif laughed out loud and she felt that tingle all over again. Even when he was serious, the man was gorgeous, but laughing? Well, it made something deep inside her clench tight. To avoid examining that odd sensation any further, Shanal quickly turned the bread, then set the table.

“Did you want coffee or tea with breakfast?” she asked, realizing that for all she’d known him half his life, she knew very little about him.

But she wanted to.

Her breath caught on a gasp as she burned herself on the side of the frying pan. Where on earth had that thought come from?

And why now?

“Coffee, please,” Raif responded, blissfully unaware of the turmoil she was going through.

“Coming right up.”

Ignoring the sting of the burn, she quickly set the coffeemaker to go and added the next batch of bread to the frying pan. In no time the pieces were golden and she plated them up. But with her thoughts still in a whirl, she realized that she wasn’t so hungry anymore.

“Breakfast is ready,” she said.

“Great, just give me a minute to pull in over there.”

He gestured to a small indentation in the riverbank, then nosed the boat in and cut the engine.

“Don’t we need to tie off?” Shanal asked.

“We should be okay here while we eat, since we’re out of the current. If there’s a problem I’ll just start her up again.”

Shanal poured their coffee and took the mugs to the table. As she did so, Raif’s eyes suddenly narrowed.

“Is that a burn?” he asked, grabbing her hand and turning it so he could inspect the redness more closely.

Shanal tried to tug free. “It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me. You need to run some cold water over that.”

“Seriously, Raif, it’s nothing.”

He ignored her and led her to the kitchen sink, where he held her hand under the cold tap. The entire time, she was aware of his closeness, of the latent power in his male body, of the gentleness in his touch as he cradled her hand in his. The water might have been cold, but she felt anything but. In fact, heat simmered inside her in a way she’d never experienced before. Heat...and something else.