Eli took his time in the shower, both cooling his temper and hoping Aria would discover the empty cupboards, get bored and leave. She seemed the type to get distracted easily. But luck was not on his side. The smell of recently cooked food wafted through the house, and his mouth watered as he neared the kitchen. When he passed through the lounge, he noted his rubbish had been cleared away and the coffee table wiped down. As he entered the kitchen, he couldn’t help but grin at the enormous omelet and the cup of coffee waiting on the dining table. She was resourceful; he’d give her that. Sitting on the opposite side of the four-person table, she was sipping a bright pink drink.

“Where did this come from?” he asked. “I haven’t done any shopping. The cupboards were empty.”

“I know. You were taking a while in the shower, so I whipped down to the bakehouse.”

That explained it. He was oddly pleased that she hadn’t tried to convince him she’d magicked food out of nothing. Other women might have done so to impress him.

She looked good this morning. He hadn’t paid attention earlier, but she was fresh-faced and bright-eyed, with ringlets of brown hair cascading down her back from a braid that ended at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a high-waisted Hawaiian-print dress which drew attention to her well-endowed upper half. Eli’s gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts; they would be more than a handful for the average person, but he had large hands and itched to see how they fit. The soft edge of her skirt brushed against thighs that were golden and shapely.

Eye contact. Make eye contact.

It wouldn’t do to let her catch him admiring her—even if she had made love to him with her eyes earlier. The way she’d nibbled her lip as her eyes focused on his bare skin had been downright sexy, and also completely unintentional, based on the way she’d blushed when he said her name. She was a woman who seemed unaware of her allure. Refreshing. She was worrying the pink lipstick off with her teeth, and his lower half sprang to attention. Hurriedly, he slid onto the chair before she could notice. Although he didn’t like having his house invaded, he appreciated that she was here to listen to his plans, which was all the more surprising because of how he’d manhandled her on Friday.

“Thanks,” he grunted as he dug into the omelet, grateful for the distraction.

She opened a paper bag and drew out a slice of chocolate cake. Taking a bite, she hummed in pleasure. Abruptly, his appetite for food disappeared, and he was hungry for something else.

“You have cake for breakfast?” he asked, trying to sound disapproving rather than turned on.