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fast and so many times from herwild thoughts that she began to feel a little dizzy. “I … uh …That’s really sweet but I already started cooking ….”

“Yeah?” he asked. Lookinga little doubtful, he strode into her kitchen and looked at herhalf done meatloaf. “I have steak.”

“Well … uh ….”

He turned the oven off and headed backto her. “Come on,” he murmured, draping one arm around hershoulders. “You’ll enjoy it. Promise.”

Bad idea, Marilyn. Bad, bad idea.Don’t do it! Don’t go with him like a lamb to theslaughter!

And she still let him lead her out ofher apartment and down the hallway to his place, telling herselfthat it was the chance to check out what was going on and shecouldn’t just blow it off.

Contrary to her expectation, fear,hope, Jarrod didn’t immediately fall upon her the very moment hehad dragged her into his lair. He didn’t even make a move onher.

He abandoned her by thedoor.

She could’ve turned tail and run rightthen.

But she didn’t.

“Sit where you like. I’lldo dinner.”

Marilyn stood stock still by the doorfor many moments, staring around at the apartment.

She didn’t know what she’d expectedbut this wasn’t it.

It was sparsely furnished and none ofthe furnishings were new-new, but also not ragged with use. So he’deither had it a while or he shopped the second hand stores like shedid.

The place was also neat andsurprisingly clean—almost like a movie set—just an ‘artistic’jumble of odds and ends here and there.

After examining everything with hergaze, she followed him into the kitchen.

He had his back to her and seemed tobe standing in front of a microwave, but at her entrance, he turnedand gave her his full attention. Settling his arm around hershoulders, he walked her right out of the kitchen again. “My treattonight. Sit down.”

Disconcerted, Marilyn found a place toperch.

She couldn’t actually see or hear whatwas going on in the kitchen, but she craned her neck in theattempt, moving to the very edge of the seat she’dtaken.

When she still couldn’t see, she gaveup and transferred her attention to the area around her, trying todecide if she could see anything that might indicate … somethingnefarious, she supposed.

She saw a work area, but it didn’tlook like bomb making. It looked like he might be working on somesort of electronics. “Are you a repairman?”

He came to the door of the roomcarrying two plates and glanced from her to the worktable.“Inventor,” he said succinctly.

He continued across the living roomwhile Marilyn gaped at him in surprise and lowered the plates to acoffee table that she saw already had napkins, glasses, andutensils for two.

“You were very confident,”she murmured, smiling faintly.

He glanced at her and then at thetable and shrugged. “Not exactly. I just figured I would ask youover and if you came it would be good to be ready.”

The response eliminated the tensionthat had tightened with the suspicion that he was convinced shewould just fall into his hands like a ripe plum.

Which she had, she thought,embarrassed, realizing he had every reason to be confident and noneto doubt his abilities.

Transferring her attention to theplates he had put on the table when he straightened and headed backinto the kitchen, she gasped.

She hadn’t even heard him cooking andthe plates held steaming potatoes and broccoli and a sizzlingsteak!

How in the world had he managedthat?

Had he cooked the meal before he’dcome to ask and just stuck it into the microwave to heat up when hegot her into his apartment?

It seemed the only reasonableexplanation and yet everything looked perfectly evenly heated andshe knew you couldn’t get that just sticking an assortment of foodin the microwave all at the same time.

“You’re amazing,” shecommented when he returned with a bottle and settled on the floorin front of one of the plates.

He grinned at her cockily. “Womenusually don’t say that until the next morning,” hejoked.

Chapter Six

It was nothing short of amazing thatthe comment was so easy to take as a joke instead of an insult. Shelaughed, even knowing it was entirely likely that it wastrue.

Well, maybe not.

He was amazing to look at, but thatdidn’t mean he was any good in bed.

He probably hadn’t practiced anythingbut pleasing himself.

“I meant the food,” shesaid mockingly.

“Oh.” He tried to lookdisappointed, but he was focused on opening a bottle ofwine.

Dismay flickered through Marilyn whenshe saw what it was he had. She really didn’t process alcoholicbeverages well and beyond that she was well aware that men referredto alcohol in any form as pussy-lube.

Which it was, because it loweredinhibitions in some and made for a great excuse forothers.

In her case it didn’t just lower herinhibitions it transformed her into an idiot.

On the other hand, she was just feetaway from her own apartment and she thought she should be fine ifshe only had a few sips.

And she hated to throw a sour noteinto what was a first date.

Maybe.

“I could never, never eata steak this big. Ever. Let me just cut off a piece I can handleand give you the rest? I’m sure you need more. You’re a bigguy.”

“Eat what you want anddon’t worry about it,” he said dismissively.

She shrugged inwardly, but instead ofjust tucking in, she cut the piece off that she wanted and moved itto the other side of the plate.

It was seasoned to perfection andcooked to perfection and so tender it was like butter. “Oh my god!Now I’m really impressed. I’ve never had a steak like this in mylife!”

His brows rose, but he focused ontasting his own. “Damn! You’re right. This is good.”

Setting his utensils down he pouredher glass full, ignoring her attempt to stop the pour, and thenfilled his own glass.

Marilyn found it easy to focus on thefood—not the wine—sipping tiny sips and she still had a buzz beforeshe was half way through. “What do you invent?” she asked after afew moments.

He shrugged. “This and that. Whatevercomes to mind, you know.”

She didn’t, but she could see hispoint. She supposed inventors only made things when they discovereda problem that needed to be solved. “Sounds like

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