middle of the table as a centerpiece. If she hadn’t been so upset with him, she might have found the scene almost romantic.
Without sparing her a glance, Reid moved between the kitchen and dining areas to fill their plates and pour a couple glasses of wine. Clearly, he’d discovered her father’s collection.
Juliet’s nerves began to jump as she wondered exactly how she would manage to avoid drinking the stuff after it had already been poured. Especially when she’d never been one to turn down an offer of wine in Reid’s presence before.
For that matter, she was also a little bit concerned about the food scents that were mingling to fill nearly every nook and cranny of the spacious cabin. If they started to make her sick, she would have nowhere to go to get away from them and nowhere to hide from Reid’s too-keen scrutiny.
So far, though, she seemed okay. She couldn’t quite identify the fragrances assailing her at the moment, but they were rich and pleasant, and actually had her stomach rumbling rather than revolting.
Taking a tentative step forward, she slipped her fingers into the front pockets of her casual navy slacks.
“What are we having?” she asked as Reid took one last trip from the kitchen and deposited a platter of rolls on the table.
He lifted his head to look at her, and she pretended not to notice the flash of heat reflected in his chocolate brown eyes. She pretended not to feel it, either, as it filled her and seeped into all of the dark, forbidden places that missed him most in the wee small hours of the night when she sometimes couldn’t sleep.
“You’ve got a really well-stocked pantry here,” he said, pulling out a chair and waiting for her to take her seat. “Not to mention the freezer and fresh stuff you picked up on the way.”
Rounding the table, he took his own seat straight across from her. “I found some beef medallions and a jar of sauce, and even some frozen bread dough for rolls. The only thing we’re missing is a spring lettuce salad with raspberry vinaigrette.”
He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help shaking her head.
“I can’t believe you cook,” she admitted honestly. It didn’t seem like something a man like him would stoop to.
She happened to know that he was personally worth well over twenty-five million dollars. And his company, which was one of the most successful, high-tech investigation firms in the country, was worth probably closer to a billion.
But unlike Paul, who liked to brag about his financial success and spend money on expensive items that would impress his peers whether or not he needed or even truly wanted them, one would never be able to peg the size of Reid’s bank account just by looking at him.
She’d seen him in a perfectly tailored Armani suit and wondered why they bothered ever using anyone else on a cover of GQ. She’d even seen him in a tuxedo once and thought he made every James Bond ever to grace the silver screen look like a hunchbacked, bridge-dwelling troll in comparison. So without a doubt, he could flaunt his wealth and prestige.
More often than not, though, he preferred slacks and a plain white dress shirt. Sometimes with a suit jacket. Often with a tie that didn’t make it much past noon.
Even now, he was dressed in his usual business casual, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The style wasn’t fancy, wasn’t expensive. She knew he had pricey clothes in his closet, but doubted he spent much on his everyday attire.
Yet it didn’t take away one iota from the man she knew him to be. The one who’d spent time in the military, become highly trained, then started his own investigation firm where he could use his brains as well as his brawn.
Which was yet another reason she knew she would never manage to get away from him if he didn’t want to let her go. He would use the resources of his company, his own personal skills and finally his own unlimited finances, if necessary, to track her down without ever bothering
Without sparing her a glance, Reid moved between the kitchen and dining areas to fill their plates and pour a couple glasses of wine. Clearly, he’d discovered her father’s collection.
Juliet’s nerves began to jump as she wondered exactly how she would manage to avoid drinking the stuff after it had already been poured. Especially when she’d never been one to turn down an offer of wine in Reid’s presence before.
For that matter, she was also a little bit concerned about the food scents that were mingling to fill nearly every nook and cranny of the spacious cabin. If they started to make her sick, she would have nowhere to go to get away from them and nowhere to hide from Reid’s too-keen scrutiny.
So far, though, she seemed okay. She couldn’t quite identify the fragrances assailing her at the moment, but they were rich and pleasant, and actually had her stomach rumbling rather than revolting.
Taking a tentative step forward, she slipped her fingers into the front pockets of her casual navy slacks.
“What are we having?” she asked as Reid took one last trip from the kitchen and deposited a platter of rolls on the table.
He lifted his head to look at her, and she pretended not to notice the flash of heat reflected in his chocolate brown eyes. She pretended not to feel it, either, as it filled her and seeped into all of the dark, forbidden places that missed him most in the wee small hours of the night when she sometimes couldn’t sleep.
“You’ve got a really well-stocked pantry here,” he said, pulling out a chair and waiting for her to take her seat. “Not to mention the freezer and fresh stuff you picked up on the way.”
Rounding the table, he took his own seat straight across from her. “I found some beef medallions and a jar of sauce, and even some frozen bread dough for rolls. The only thing we’re missing is a spring lettuce salad with raspberry vinaigrette.”
He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help shaking her head.
“I can’t believe you cook,” she admitted honestly. It didn’t seem like something a man like him would stoop to.
She happened to know that he was personally worth well over twenty-five million dollars. And his company, which was one of the most successful, high-tech investigation firms in the country, was worth probably closer to a billion.
But unlike Paul, who liked to brag about his financial success and spend money on expensive items that would impress his peers whether or not he needed or even truly wanted them, one would never be able to peg the size of Reid’s bank account just by looking at him.
She’d seen him in a perfectly tailored Armani suit and wondered why they bothered ever using anyone else on a cover of GQ. She’d even seen him in a tuxedo once and thought he made every James Bond ever to grace the silver screen look like a hunchbacked, bridge-dwelling troll in comparison. So without a doubt, he could flaunt his wealth and prestige.
More often than not, though, he preferred slacks and a plain white dress shirt. Sometimes with a suit jacket. Often with a tie that didn’t make it much past noon.
Even now, he was dressed in his usual business casual, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The style wasn’t fancy, wasn’t expensive. She knew he had pricey clothes in his closet, but doubted he spent much on his everyday attire.
Yet it didn’t take away one iota from the man she knew him to be. The one who’d spent time in the military, become highly trained, then started his own investigation firm where he could use his brains as well as his brawn.
Which was yet another reason she knew she would never manage to get away from him if he didn’t want to let her go. He would use the resources of his company, his own personal skills and finally his own unlimited finances, if necessary, to track her down without ever bothering
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