Her eyes searched his for a long time. “Then I guess I made the right decision. I think you’re so beautiful you take my breath away.”

He tried not to let the sound of her voice and the way she said the words, the ring of absolute truth get to him—but it did. His heart turned over. His belly knotted and his cock was as hard as a damned rock. Love and lust mixed into some terrible combustible chemical, just waiting for a match. “Baby. Men aren’t beautiful.”

“You are. The way you move. Your eyes. Your mouth. Especially your voice.” She sent him another small smile. “It doesn’t hurt that you have a scorching-hot body and you know how to use it.”

His eyes met hers. It was all he could do not to come over the table and drag her into his arms. He had the feeling that he was just getting in deeper and deeper with her. She wasn’t ready yet. She needed a little space and she’d made that clear. He wanted to give it to her. He took a deep breath, lifted his fork and saluted her. “Kitten, you have to be the best cook I’ve ever been around. I watched you make this, saw every ingredient you put into it, but I’ve never had eggs like this. Not ever. You must be magic.”

She looked pleased. “Wait until I actually have some spices and things to work with. I love this kitchen, Eli. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad. Anything you want different, let me know and I’ll see what I can do about it. I told you, I’m no cook, but I can grill a mean steak.” He forced himself to sound offhand. He didn’t want to spook her, but he’d get her anything at all she asked him for. He’d pull down the damn moon for her if she asked him.

“That’s good, because I don’t always feel like cooking,” she admitted, sneaking a little glance at him over her coffee.

Eli frowned. “You don’t have to cook for me, Catarina. I didn’t bring you here so you could wait on me. Any time you don’t feel like cooking, just say so. I’ll take a turn or we’ll eat out.”

“We can’t eat out, Eli. Even you can’t eat out.” She raised her head, her blue eyes meeting his, anxious.

Eli liked that she looked alarmed. For him. Not for her. She was worried about him. “I’m not afraid of Cordeau, baby,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “Eli, he’ll know I’m with you by now, and the minute you surface somewhere, he’ll find you,” Catarina cautioned, carefully choosing her words, trying not to sound like she was challenging him. Or bossing him.

His heart turned over. He put his hand over hers, his thumb sliding along the bare skin of her inner wrist. “We’re going to be ready for him. I don’t intend for us to hide forever. Just long enough for your leopard to make her appearance, and for us to be ready.”