“My mother never cooked a day in her life,” she blurted out. Her hand actually went to her mouth, pushed against her lips hard. What was wrong with her? That was definitely letting him in. She’d never once said a word to anyone about her mother. Her mother was off limits. Ridley had cast some terrible spell over her and she didn’t know what she was doing or saying around him half the time.

His gaze turned speculative as if he knew the subject was taboo. “So if not your mother, Cat, who? Where? Because this is superb.”

She shrugged and went with the truth. “I spent a lot of time hanging out in the kitchen and the chef was amazing.” She didn’t care if she was misleading him in a small way, making him think she’d had a chef growing up because her mother didn’t cook. “I was fascinated and watched everything he did and how he did it. Eventually he allowed me to help and then sometimes cook the meal. I loved it.”

She pushed the heavy fall of hair from around her face, shoving it back over her shoulder. Heat flared in his eyes, turning them to a molten gold so bright she had to look away again. She managed to pick up her espresso without her hands shaking. She was shaking inside, so that was a particularly good feat.

“You constantly amaze me. I’ve never had a better meal, or better coffee. Looking like you do, I’d think you’d just sit back and let everyone admire you, but no, you work out in the dojo and you’re not there to pick up men.”

She smiled at him. “Newsflash, Ridley, the women at the dojo are there to learn how to defend themselves, not pick up men.”

“Newsflash right back at you, Kitten, most of them are there to pick up men. Have you watched them working out? Malcom has to tell them the same thing over and over. They don’t condition. They don’t practice, they just try to look good and bat their eyelashes. Most of them have all requested private lessons with me.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Here’s another newsflash for you, Ridley. Anyone with eyes can see you’re good at self-defense, the katas and the sparring. So anyone who wants to seriously improve is going to try to score private lessons with you.”

“You didn’t.”

That brought her head up. Her eyes met his and that was a terrible mistake. A really, really bad mistake. Heat moved through her. Not moved. Rushed like a fireball right through her veins and settled low in her body, until her feminine core pulsed with need. She let her breath out and took another sip of espresso.

“I don’t let people into my life. Especially not a man the rest of the world is going to notice.”