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stare into his pitiful soul.

‘Didn’t you bring anything with you?’

He smiled. It was the slightest of stands with a hint of scorn. She thought he was spoiled and, yes, that was exactly what he was. He’d make no apologies for it or for any of his other faults. But he liked that tiny glimpse of her spirit. He wanted to see more of it. More of her—all over.

Frankly, he didn’t expect to have all kinds of appetites roused here and now.

But as he gazed at her, suffering her wide-eyed scrutiny, something else tugged inside him. A very small desire to do a little better. He abruptly turned and stalked to the kitchen. But he was keenly aware of her following him with that intriguingly subversive look barely hidden in her expression.

Once there, he scoped the shelves, but there were limited signs of her presence. In the fridge there was a single block of cheese. On one shelf in the pantry there were a few small tins of fish, a couple of packets of instant noodles and a box of crackers. Just looking at her pathetic supplies made his stomach rumble.

‘What do you exist on?’ he grumbled, glancing over to where she stood on the other side of the large kitchen counter, primly holding her hands together and pursing her very kissable lips.

‘I have sufficient supplies.’

‘Sufficient?’ he echoed drily. ‘How sad. Why have merely sufficient when you can have satisfying?’

Colour tinged her cheeks again. He couldn’t resist acting up the outrageousness he knew she expected from him. She thought he was an irresponsible playboy? He was quite happy to perform if it meant he kept seeing her blush.

‘Instant noodles.’ He groaned. They weren’t even decent flavours.

‘They’re delicious.’

‘I prefer my noodles hand-pulled and fresh.’ He knew he sounded awful, but it was too much to keep from pulling another eye-roll from her. He poked through the tins and came across a small stack of individual steamed puddings—complete with caramel sauce. They were little single-serve tubs to go in the microwave.

‘Oh, here we go.’ He glanced at her slyly. ‘So you’re not afraid to spoil yourself in secret?’

Of course she wasn’t. Hadn’t he just caught her indulging in a luxurious candle-lit bubble bath while sipping over-priced champagne? She had a decadent, sensual streak.

She stared at him, those eyes widened in shock. Then he saw her chin tilt.

‘You want to eat my little dessert?’ Her voice was impossibly breathy.

No. He wanted to eat her. And they both knew it. He stared at her, stilled by the glimpse of steel in her eyes. And of heat.

‘You think you can just swoop in and take what you want?’ she added, despite the blush mottling not just her face but her neck too. ‘No matter who it belongs to?’

Wasn’t she a deliciously pointy creature when she let herself out?

‘I’ll always take what I want from someone who’s willing to offer it to me,’ he assured her.

He watched her warring with whether to speak again or not. He couldn’t move, desperate for her to say it.

‘I’m not offering anything,’ she finally claimed.

‘Not even one little bite of pudding?’ he drawled. ‘Damned if I’m going to spend the week living like I’ve been shipwrecked.’

She shouldn’t settle for that either.

‘You can’t cope with a constraint on your appetite even for a little while?’ she asked.

The little punch pleased him an inordinate amount.

‘I don’t like to be denied decent sustenance,’ he answered lazily. ‘I like delicious. It doesn’t have to be a lot, but it does have to be quality.’

‘A man like you will always want more than a morsel of perfection,’ she said quietly. ‘You wouldn’t stop at one of those puddings, you’d want all of them.’

A morsel of perfection? He leaned against the bench and laughed. ‘You think I have a voracious appetite?’

She slowly nodded, her baleful, brilliant gaze locked on him. ‘Absolutely.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong, my sweet,’ he said lightly and then shot straight to the crux of the matter. ‘I only ever have one bite. One night with a woman.’

She blinked. ‘Only one night? Wow,’ she muttered in that husky voice. ‘That’s too mean of you. Are you afraid she’ll get bored if you let her stick around for longer?’

Ash regarded her steadily, masking the adrenalin and anticipation burgeoning inside. Merle Jordan had gone from a mortified, tongue-tied bundle of embarrassment, to a worthy opponent displaying claws and wit and he wanted to see so much more of it from her. ‘I’m not afraid,’ he countered softly. ‘I’m merely protecting her from the inevitable heartbreak.’

‘Oh, so it’s chivalry,’ she mock-marvelled, even as she dropped her gaze from his. ‘How heroic of you to save her from yourself.’

‘Quite,’ he purred. She was an absolute, intriguing challenge. ‘Now, Ms Jordan.’ He held up one of the single-serve puddings. ‘Are we going to label and lock away what’s mine and label and lock away what’s yours, or are we going to pool resources and share?’

At that, she gazed back up at him, despite her blushing breathiness. He could see the tremble in her fingers she was trying to hide and he respected the effort it took for her to hold his gaze. He willed her to say whatever pithy thing she was thinking. Because she was definitely thinking and he ached to know what about.

‘Exactly what resources are you planning to bring to this party?’ she finally asked.

Suddenly he had plans. Lots of very good, very pleasurable plans.

He’d thought he wanted to be alone to face this final goodbye and dispose of his mother’s things. But perhaps, while he was here, alone was the one thing he shouldn’t be. This disapproving woman might be the perfect antidote to take his mind off the mess of emotion this place conjured within. He badly needed distraction from the task he’d been dreading for almost a decade and here she was in bountiful, curvaceous perfection. Maybe he could tempt her out of her prickly shell? He could disarm her stand-offishness, break down her

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