Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“Oh. They should have, right?”
“Yes.”
Jilly gulped. “I don’t know. Maybe there isn’t one in the kitchen.”
“You don’t know whether you have a smoke alarm in the kitchen?”
“I, uh, I guess I never thought about it.”
“You have one above the doorway to the hall.”
“Oh, good. Uh, so it didn’t work?”
“It didn’t. Neither did the one in here.” He nodded to the smoke alarm on the living room wall.
Crap.
“I’m guessing that you’re supposed to check the smoke alarms regularly and replace batteries,” she said.
“You are. Do you want to explain to me why you haven’t been doing that?”
He sounded so reasonable. Yet, she could tell he was holding back.
“I think I’d rather not.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she told him. “This is all my fault.”
“I’m sorry that I worded that like you had a choice about whether to answer me.”
Oh. That’s what he’d meant.
And now she felt like an idiot. She could feel herself flushing, her cheeks heating.
“You know what . . . I think we should just call this a night and move on. I don’t know why I thought cooking dinner was a good idea since I can barely boil an egg. Once, I put some eggs on to boil, thinking I’d make egg salad. And then I forgot and got busy doing other things. When I came back, the bottom of the pan was burned black and the eggs were kind of stuck to it. I had to throw the whole thing out. Come to think of it, the smoke alarms didn’t go off then, either.”
And she probably should have stopped talking several sentences ago if the look on his face was anything to go by.
“You didn’t think to check the batteries?”
With a groan, she covered her face again. “In case it’s escaped your notice, house maintenance isn’t my forte. I don’t notice things or I forget about them.”
“Like your security light,” he said.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing to me?”
“Because you own this house and I nearly burned it down!”
“Sweetheart, do you think I’m worried about the house?” He took her hands in his.
She didn’t know what to focus on more. His touch or the fact that he’d called her sweetheart.
Her stomach swooped, her heart filling with hope.
Don’t be silly.
He might call everyone sweetheart.
“Jilly?”
Oh, right. He’d asked her a question.
“Well, uh, technically, it’s your house. And I’m sure you’d rather I didn’t burn it to the ground.”
“I don’t want it burned to the ground because I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he told her firmly. “And as far as I’m concerned, this is your house. Yours and your mother’s, all right? But the fact is, I guess I do technically own it, which means that I should ensure the maintenance is kept up-to-date.”
Oh shit.
That wasn’t what she’d meant. She hadn’t intended to guilt him into doing the things that she was responsible for. It was bad enough he’d had guys here yesterday morning working overtime to replace the security system.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said hastily. “I’ll take care of the house. It’s up to me. I’ll be better.”
“Hey.” He cupped her cheek and her mind short-circuited.
Darn it. One touch from him and she caved like a pile of cards.
It was the Regent effect.
Potent. Deadly. Impossible to resist.
“You don’t have to be anything, sweetheart. Because I’m here to take care of you . . . I mean, take care of the house.”
Darn it.
She’d been dancing on a cloud until he clarified his words.
Right. He cared in that he didn’t want her to die, but his main concern was the house.
“There’s nothing you need to do. I have it under control.”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
Right. Because you had everything under control tonight. You nearly burned the house down!
“I probably shouldn’t cook anymore.”
“Probably? I would say definitely.”
Her shoulders slumped.
“In fact, I am going to go as far as saying that you are banned from cooking unless someone is helping you.”
Her mouth dropped open. Then she narrowed her gaze as she glared at him. “I don’t think you can do that.”
“You don’t think so?” He gave her an arrogant look. “I just did. Now, why don’t you go shower off the smoke smell and get changed. You can feel free to get into your PJs.”
He wanted her to put her pajamas on?
Oh. But maybe by pajamas, he meant a sexy negligee . . . she could act out her fantasy from before . . .
“You can relax in your pajamas on the sofa while I finish cleaning up and order in some dinner.” He stood and held out his hand to her.
Disappointment filled her.
Maybe he actually wanted her to put her pajamas on and lounge around while he did all the work.
Lord . . . he wasn’t into her at all, was he?