Cupid Cats

by Katie MacAlister

Her eyes darkened the way they used to when she wanted him to kiss her. “Jon . . .”

  Insane as it seemed, he thought she’d let him kiss her now, except the damned cat was growling and twisting in her arms.

  He returned his attention to the clasp. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “No, but that doesn’t—”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t have anything to do with anything. I just . . .” The clasp gave way. “There.” He pulled the harness off the cat. “You can let him go.”

  She loosened her grip. Darwin leaped from her arms, landed with a thump on the hardwood floor, and scampered down the hall.

  She half turned as if to follow. “I should keep track of him.”

  “Wait.”

  Slowly she faced him again, her gaze wary. “What? Oh, sorry. You still have the leash.” She held out her hand.

  “This isn’t about the leash, but here.” He gave it to her. He was the kind of guy who focused on a woman’s face when he talked to her. But he’d still managed to quickly check the front of her old worn T-shirt. Her nipples made a dent in the cotton.

  He took satisfaction in that. It made him feel a little less foolish for the surge of lust he felt whenever he looked at her. He cleared his throat. “Am I the only one who feels as if we’re right where we were in high school?”

  “In what way?”

  “In a sexual way.”

  “Nope. Nothing sexual going on over here.”

  He was surprised—and disappointed. He could challenge her on that, but he wouldn’t. He’d be here for seven days and seven nights. He was in no rush. His body might be in a hell of a rush, but he wasn’t a kid anymore. He could wait.

  He shrugged. “Okay. Just checking. Guess I’ll go up to my room, then.”

  “You’ll need to delay that trip a couple of minutes.”

  “Why?”

  “I need time to locate my basket of rose petals.”

  He laughed. “You know, Kate, I have a feeling this is going to be a very interesting week.”

  Chapter 3

  What had just happened? Kate had managed to keep her cool, sort of, long enough to end that crazy scene in the hallway with a joke about the rose petals, but as she headed toward the back of the house to locate Darwin, adrenaline rushed through her system, leaving her shaky.

  She’d been uptight about seeing Jon, but she’d expected awkwardness between them, not enough heat to burn a hole in the hardwood floor. It was really his fault for looking so damned sexy in his casual shorts and T-shirt. He must have known dressing like that made women want to rip his clothes off and do him. Then that deal with the harness had turned into unexpected foreplay. Yikes.

  The instant chemistry put things in a whole new light. Jon had come here to escape, which meant he’d taken great pains to keep this location secret. Though she felt ambushed by her strong reaction to him, she couldn’t help but smile as she thought of a twist on the old Vegas line—whatever happens in Bisbee stays in Bisbee.

  Was she seriously thinking of getting involved with Jon this week? Surely not. But he had made that remark about feeling as if they were back in high school, which was sort of an invitation to explore further. She couldn’t deny fantasizing about what he’d be like as a lover. With his security precautions, she wouldn’t have to worry about some paparazzo leaping out of the bushes with a camera.

  But for the moment, she needed to put thoughts of Jon out of her mind and concentrate on this new responsibility—her cat. Going through the kitchen she glanced at a peg by the back door. It was perfect for the leash and harness. She hung them on it, looping the strap so it was out of Darwin’s reach.

  Maggie had designed an owner’s suite that opened off the kitchen, and those rooms were Kate’s for the duration of her stay. First she entered a small sitting room with a rolltop desk, a wingback chair, and a television. French doors led to the bedroom with its king-sized bed created to look like an antique four-poster. Beyond that was a bathroom also designed to look antique, complete with a deep claw-foot tub and a pedestal sink.

  Darwin was relaxing on the bed. On his back, he lay up against the mound of snowy pillows with his front and back legs stretched as far as they would go. His posture said plainly, “This is all mine.”

  Kate chuckled. “Please make yourself at home, cat.”

  He opened those turquoise eyes and gave her an upside-down stare, as if annoyed that she’d disturbed his nap. Then he stretched with a little quiver of pleasure, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep. The silver hair on his belly rose and fell softly with each breath.

  Kate leaned in the open doorway and gazed at her new cat, who obviously was satisfied with his new digs. She was glad she’d gone ahead with the adoption, although it had been the strangest pet adoption Kate had ever been through.

  Esmeralda had refused to take any money, not even as a donation for the shelter. Even the leash had been free. Kate had given up arguing with her and had concluded that Esmeralda must have inherited millions that she’d chosen to spend on stray cats.

  Whatever Esmeralda’s situation, Kate had lucked out finding Darwin. She was already starting to love him, partly because of his sense of entitlement. Darwin was a cat who would get his due, and she admired that. She also admired his ability to go with the flow and make himself so perfectly comfortable so quickly in his new home.

  She hadn’t been very good at that in the past. Usually she had to orchestrate everything to death. Maybe now that she had a cat with such a gift for enjoying life, she’d be able to use him as a role model.

  Sounds coming from the upstairs indicated that Jon was settling in. She could hear his footsteps as he moved back and forth. Maggie had made up the back bedroom for him because he liked returning to the same one each year. On the second floor he could hear the rain on the tin roof, which was apparently something he cherished.

  Kate had a sudden image of making love to the music of rain on a tin roof. She’d never done that before. She probably had no business thinking about it now. And yet, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t think about it with a hottie like Jon in the house? If Darwin could talk, no doubt he’d advise her to go for it.

  Water ran in the upstairs bathroom, so Jon was probably freshening up. Normally that bathroom was shared with whoever had one of the other two upstairs rooms, but Jon would have it all to himself this week.

  The intimacy of their situation gradually settled over her like a fragrant set of satin sheets. For seven days the only occupants of this house would be her, Jon, and the cat. She’d thought that would feel strange and unnerving. She hadn’t expected it to feel exciting and just the slightest bit illicit.

  A few minutes later she heard him on the stairs, which jacked up her pulse rate. He came into the kitchen calling her name, which jacked up her pulse rate a little more.

  “I’m here.” Her body humming with awareness, she walked back through the sitting room and out into Maggie’s comfortable kitchen with the yellow tile counters and the cherry-patterned curtains. Then she paused, trying to decide what was different about him. He wore the same khaki shorts and leather sandals, the same white Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt.

  And he’d shaved.

  Maybe he did that every time he arrived, but why would he bother? Why not let his beard grow out during the week to make his disguise even more convincing? She could text Maggie to find out if he normally shaved first thing after unpacking, but that would reveal that Kate was interested in such info.

  For a perceptive person like Maggie, a question like that would be enough on which to base a whole theory. Kate didn’t want Maggie constructing theories. If something happened here this week, Kate would rather nobody ever knew, including her sister.

  She decided not to comment on the shaving because she was still debating whether to follow through on this attraction they had going. But the longer they stood gazing at each other, the more the air between them heated up.

  He’d finished off his shave with so
me brand of yummy-smelling cologne. That didn’t seem like the act of a man ready to kick back and abandon his usual routine. That seemed like the act of a man interested in getting it on.

  Shoving her hands in her pockets, she rocked back on her heels. “All settled in?”

  “Yep. And I’m starving.”

  The way he was looking at her, she wondered what he was starving for. Could be food; could be something else. A slight tremor moved through her as she remembered how intense his kisses had been at eighteen. “Maggie said you like to cook while you’re here.”

  “Yeah, it relaxes me.”

  She didn’t remember moving toward him, and she didn’t think he’d stepped closer, but somehow they’d managed to draw close enough to touch, although they didn’t. “I guess you’ll need me to go to the store for groceries.” Obviously her mind was operating on a single track, because she wondered if she should pick up condoms while she was out.

  “It’s probably not necessary for tonight,” he said. “You must have food in the house. I can use whatever’s here.”

  Then again, maybe condom shopping was a presumption on her part. He might want a good meal and an early night . . . alone. Flirting might be such a habit for him that he couldn’t help doing it.

  She battened down her hormones. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea what’s in the pantry and very little idea of what’s in the refrigerator. I’m not much of a cook, and the restaurants are terrific in Bisbee. I’d planned to eat all my meals out.”

  His highly photogenic mouth tipped into a smile. “And what were you planning to do about providing the breakfast part of this B and B?”

  She blinked. “You know, that’s an excellent question. Maggie said you liked to cook and I—I suppose I thought you’d make yourself some coffee and toast.”

  “Good thing I can fend for myself, then.”

  “Guess so.” Kate realized that her usual eating plan might not work out, after all. She had a cat now, and she couldn’t very well leave all the time. This first night might be especially critical, no matter how at home Darwin might look stretched out on her bed. Besides, that wasn’t fair to Jon. He was a guest and shouldn’t be expected to cat-sit.

  She glanced at him. “Would you be willing to fend for me, too? At least until I have a better idea of what to expect from Darwin? I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  He wore that teasing expression that made women all over the world flock to his movies. “I’ll be happy to feed you, but you’ll have to be willing to eat whatever I cook. As I recall, you were a picky eater.”

  Although she hadn’t noticed him move before, she did this time. He was definitely moving into her intimate space with a sureness born of sexual confidence.

  Determined not to come across as less than confident herself, she stood her ground and lifted her chin. “Define picky.”

  “Unwilling to experiment. When I’m on vacation I like to try new things.”

  They were almost touching, and she was having a real problem getting her breath. “Are we still talking about food?”

  He held her gaze. “I don’t know. Are we?”

  Oh, what the hell? I’m going for it. “Because if we are, I’ve heard you can do some very interesting things with a can of whipped cream and a handful of chocolate-covered strawberries.”

  Heat flashed in his green eyes. “Don’t say anything you’re not ready to back up.”

  “I’m not a vulnerable teenager anymore, Jon.” Her heart thumped so fast she grew dizzy.

  He leaned down, his lips a breath away. “You’re making that perfectly clear, Kate.”

  She hoped she didn’t pass out from the flush of pleasure that rushed through her. This was the most thrilling moment she’d ever known, including when the black crocodile had almost sunk her canoe. “So, why did you shave?”

  “Why do you think?”

  The doorbell rang. Kate swore.

  “Just don’t answer.”

  “I have to.” With a sigh she stepped back and walked around him. “This is a place of business.”

  “Not this week,” he called after her.

  As she went through the living room to answer the door, she had to admit he was right. This week the entire B and B belonged to him, and he was the kind of client Maggie wouldn’t want to tick off.

  If Jon asked her to hang a sign on the front door saying the Hummingbird Inn was closed for a private party, she should probably do that. Come to think of it, such a sign sounded like a great idea. So did the private party.

  She also needed to remember that Jon was a celebrity, and answering the door without seeing who it was might not be very smart. What if a reporter stood on the other side?

  She took the time to peek out the front window and was surprised to see neither a reporter nor snooping fans, but Esmeralda holding what looked like a litter box with the lid upside down and two bags inside the lid.

  Kate opened the door. “You are so sweet, but you didn’t have to do that, especially after giving me the cat and the leash.”

  “I had a feeling you might not want to leave Darwin this first night to go out to the store. He likes this kind of food, and this is the litter he’s used to. I had an extra box.” She held out her offering.

  “Thank you so much.” Kate took the blue plastic litter box. With the food and litter inside, it was surprisingly heavy; yet there was no car parked out front. “Did you walk up the hill with this?”

  “Sure did.” Esmeralda didn’t sound the least bit winded.

  “You must be in excellent shape.” Good manners meant inviting Esmeralda in after her trek, but Kate was now aware that she’d trap Jon back in the kitchen by doing that. Or maybe he was so involved in his cooking that he wouldn’t care. She heard him banging pots and pans around and opening and closing the refrigerator door.

  “I keep in pretty good shape,” Esmeralda said. “Surprisingly, a broom is great exercise.”

  Kate would have thought Esmeralda would use a vacuum cleaner, but maybe a broom didn’t frighten the animals. “I suppose there is a lot of cleaning involved in running a cat shelter.”

  “Oh, it’s not so bad.” Esmeralda glanced toward the parking lot. “Looks like you have only one guest.”

  Kate wasn’t about to confirm or deny. “Mm.”

  “How’s Darwin?” Esmeralda looked eager, as if she’d love to come in and take a look at the cat’s new lodgings.

  “He’s fine. Esmeralda, I’d love to ask you in, but my guest is . . . Well, my guest has developed this terrible rash, and I need to . . . I need to go check on him. I mean her. She’s embarrassed about anyone seeing her, and I don’t blame her because this rash is nasty. It would make you hurl if you saw it, truly.”

  Esmeralda smiled. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “No, that’s not it. He just . . . I mean she just—”

  “I understand. Enjoy yourselves!” She turned, gave a brief wave, and descended the steps.

  “Thank you!” Kate called after her. “I’ll come by to say good-bye before I leave.” After closing the door and locking it, she smacked her forehead and groaned. Talk about lame excuses. Muttering to herself, she carried the litter box and its contents back to the kitchen.

  Jon was at the counter slicing veggies. He turned to her with a grin that could have melted the polar ice cap. “It’s a damned good thing you didn’t go into acting.”

  “Yes, it is, for numerous reasons.” She was embarrassed by how easily he turned her on and how ready she was to drag him out of the kitchen and back to her bed. Except Darwin was there. She set the litter box on the floor and went to a cupboard in search of a bowl for his food.

  Jon returned to his chopping. “You know, the rash was pretty gross, but did you have to give me a sex change?”

  “I was afraid if I said you were a guy, she’d think I was shacked up with somebody.” She opened the bag of food and poured some into a bowl. The sound must have tripped Darwin’s trigger, because
he came running into the kitchen.

  “She still thinks that.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. This way she’ll leave us alone. Listen, I found some chicken breasts in the freezer. Is it okay if I use a couple of them?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” She moved the litter box into the laundry room and set that up. By the time she walked back into the kitchen, Darwin had hopped to the top of the refrigerator where he could survey the action. His blue gaze followed Jon’s every movement.

  Kate understood the impulse, although Darwin was probably interested in the chicken, whereas Kate was interested in the man. The muscles in Jon’s arms put on quite the show as he diced veggies on the cutting board. Not being a cook, Kate hadn’t caught more than brief snatches of cooking shows when she was changing channels, but she couldn’t remember a single chef who’d looked as sexy as Jon.

  The action also invited her to focus on his hands, which moved with practiced ease as he deftly wielded the knife. She was reminded that he was left-handed.

  Left-handed people were supposed to be more hooked into their creative impulses. She’d read that somewhere, and considering Jon’s success in film, it was probably true of him. Cooking was a creative outlet, too. So was sex.

  She couldn’t seem to derail that train of thought as she admired his long, flexible fingers working with the knife and the veggies. Manual dexterity, she realized in that instant, could turn a girl on. She’d never thought of a kitchen as being particularly erotic, but for some reason, this one was.

  He stopped slicing and glanced at her. “Want to help?”

  She backed away, palms out. “Trust me, you don’t want my help. When I said I don’t cook, I meant I really don’t cook. I can ruin a microwave dinner—and have.”

  “I’ll bet you could find us a bottle of wine.”

  Oh, my. He was turning on the charm, and now he’d suggested wine. She didn’t have to be a genius to know how this could end up.

  He laughed. “Don’t look like that. I’m not planning to get you drunk and have my way with you.”

  Little did he know that was her plan.