Everything with Kane revolved around his choices and his whims. Well, no more. Someone had to show Kane McDermott he couldn’t always be in control. He might not like her plan to uncover her uncle’s illegal dealings, but his superior obviously had. Kayla hadn’t looked to deliberately thwart Kane, even if that had been the ultimate result. She wasn’t looking to be deliberately contrary now, either. But he was about to find out seducing Kayla wasn’t as easy as it had been before.
She still wanted to reach him on a deeper level, but she’d been wrong to think sex was the means. He’d ended up taking control of the situation by giving without letting her do the same. He would soon learn that he couldn’t control her in bed or out. The detective was about to discover she had a mind and some requirements of her own first.
She added the salad bowl and tongs to the table, set with two places. “Dinner’s ready.” She called loudly because he’d been dozing in front of the television set in the family room. Neither one of them had gotten much sleep last night, and because they wanted to go through the books tonight, they’d agreed to rest for an hour before dinner. Kayla had been too worked up to rest.
Kane walked into the cozy kitchen she’d decorated with her sister. He’d pulled off the faded sweatshirt earlier. His rumpled T-shirt looked comfortable, slept-in and extremely sexy. He was a man who wore anything well, and her pulse skyrocketed just having him near. Not a good sign, considering she planned to keep a physical distance.
He paused by one of the empty chairs, taking in the kitchen cluttered with pots, pans and cooking ingredients. “I thought we were bringing in.”
“And I told you I prefer home-cooked to takeout. Have a seat.”
He eased himself into the cushioned chair. “You didn’t need to cook for me.”
She’d wanted to. As much to vent her frustration over his take-charge attitude, as to get back some semblance of normalcy in her home. She’d also wanted to give Kane a taste of real life, two people sharing a meal and talking over dinner. Since he bolted at the first sign of intimacy, she doubted he’d ever had the experience before.
“I hope you like sirloin.” She placed their plates on the table.
He leaned forward in his seat. “This smells great. The last time I had a home-cooked meal was at the captain’s house last Christmas.”
She could believe that. The man was the ultimate loner. He’d mentioned his mother’s suicide but had omitted many details about his father. Kayla didn’t think now was the time to ask, but with the right opening, she would.
“I admit I don’t have the time to cook all that often, but every once in a while my stomach rebels against takeout. Then I roll up my sleeves and dig in.” She cut into her rare steak and juice oozed onto the plate.
She glanced at him, catching him eyeing her plate in barely hidden disgust. “I made yours well-done.” At his raised eyebrows, she grinned. “Educated guess. I couldn’t imagine you eating anything that still looked alive.”
“Good call.” He finished his first taste. “And good steak. So why all the fast food? I’d have thought your sister, the cooking expert, handled kitchen duty.”
“When she’s around, but her school hours and jobs are pretty irregular, so I’m often on my own. Cooking’s not my thing. It’s hers.”
Kane kicked back in his chair, studying her over steepled fingers. “You’re very different people, that much I realized immediately.”
His lazy gaze zeroed in on hers, causing her body temperature to spiral. The tight top that had felt liberating when she’d chosen it, suddenly felt confining. The heat pumping inside her couldn’t be denied or ignored. She wet her dry mouth with a sip of water before attempting to speak. “Cat and I don’t share the same passions, but…”
She didn’t get any further. His eyes darkened and the word passion hung heavy in the air between them. Considering she’d seen him in the throes of that particular emotion, Kayla couldn’t mistake the desire reflected in his gaze. Nor did she want to.
Needing control and wanting Kane weren’t mutually exclusive. She took a bite of her meal, but didn’t taste a thing.
He did the same. “Incredible,” he said in a husky voice. He gestured to the food on his plate, but his hooded gaze never wandered from her face.
She felt a burning flush rise to her cheeks. “I thought you were a steak and potatoes kind of guy, so I made…steak and potatoes.” She was rambling because his intense stare awakened her desires for so much more than food. Desires she’d promised herself to control until the time was right.
“You seem to know me pretty well,” he said.
Superficial information, Kayla thought, and it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know more. She shrugged. “Instinct. Something you cops must believe in.”
“It’s kept me alive more than once.”
She smiled. “And now mine is keeping you fed.” She pointed to the meal with her fork. “It’s not gourmet, but it’s decent food.” The time had come to push some barriers. “Mama couldn’t do more than boil a pot of water, but somehow, we did okay. Catherine’s been the cook in the house…ever since the restaurant owner gave her that job to work off the unpaid bill.” She glanced at Kane. “So who did the cooking in your house?”
He speared another piece of meat. “I made sure we didn’t starve, my uncle made sure we weren’t thirsty.”
She blinked, not yet comprehending.
“Alcohol, sweetheart. The man guzzled the stuff whenever he got the chance.” His face was a blank, uncaring mask.
Kayla suspected he wasn’t even aware of the change. He’d had too many years of practice, she thought sadly. “What about your father?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. He took a hike when I was five. Just like your old man.”
She nodded. Though she hadn’t known much about Kane’s family history, she’d always sensed he’d grown up on his own. Sensed he, too, knew what it was like to be alone. But she hadn’t realized how very much they had in common.
At least she’d had her aunt and her sister to give her a sense of family, of belonging. He’d had no one. “It wasn’t always easy,” she said. “But we got by.”
“Same here.” Having cleaned his plate when she wasn’t looking, he leaned back in his seat. “Your sister might be the chef in the family, but you’re pretty good yourself.”
Though she appreciated the compliment, she recognized the change of subject for what it was. “Thank you.”
“No sweat.” He rose and began stacking the dishes.
She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”
“No. You take it easy while I finish up in here. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
“The books,” she said softly.
His expression darkened. “Yeah, the books.” He turned away.
She followed him to the sink, dishes in hand. His shirt strained against the powerful muscles in his back. They’d once rippled beneath her fingertips. She exhaled a sigh. If by a long night, he meant one fraught with sexual tension, she agreed.
His abrupt turn caught her unaware. Suddenly she wasn’t faced with the man’s back, but his face. His eyes, a turbulent wash of emotions, none of which she could decipher, settled on hers. Razor stubble darkened his cheeks, matching his current mood.
Her fingertips curled around the dish in her hand.
“I want to get one thing straight.” He eased the ceramic plate out of her grip and placed it in the sink behind him.
Nothing stood between herself and Kane, no barrier existed between his magnetic pull and her tempted body. Without the small dish in her hand, she felt exposed…naked. “What is it?” she asked.