Courtship of the Recluse

She caught her breath. "You don't have to do that. That's what you pay me to do. You've worked all day long. Why don't you sit down and rest and I'll bring you a piece of pie."

He lifted a quizzical brow. "You want me to get out of your hair?"

Her cheeks felt warm. "No, I... It's just that I should be doing this."

He nodded, continuing to dry the pan. "What were you doing all day today?"

She grinned. "Not working as hard as you, that's for sure." She made a face at him. "How's that for squirming out of a leading question?"

It was the first time she saw him break down and indulge in a heart felt smile. She gazed up at him, completely disarmed by his smile, and yet somehow proud that she had been the one to put it there.

"All the same," he said, "You're entitled to a little free time yourself. You shouldn't be cooped up with a sour old man every evening."

"You're not old." She caught her breath and glanced up at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry. You're not sour either."

His mouth twisted into what might have passed for a smile. "Just a little taciturn, huh?" He tucked the pan into the cabinet.

"You don't seem to be very happy. Sometimes I wonder if you..." Her voice trailed off. Why was he looking at her like that?

"If I have any feelings at all?" His eyes were dark and distressed. He reached out, gently slipping a hand behind her neck. His thumb caressed her jaw as he gazed down into her face. "You still wonder, Cindy - Even after the other night?" His voice was soft and husky. He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, brushing her lips softly with his. His lips were warm and inviting, and she involuntarily responded to their query. If only he would always be this way.

Tenderly, he gripped her shoulders, pulling her close. His hands slid down her back to her waist and stopped, drawing her against his warm body. Her arms slid around his neck of their own volition and she pressed close to him passionately returning his affection.

He lifted her into his arms and turned toward the family room door. She squirmed and he lowered her to the floor. She dodged his arms.

"Cade, I haven't finished the dishes."

He frowned. "You're off the clock now." And with that he swept her into his arms and claimed her lips.

She tried to resist the desire that ransacked her body, but his lips and hands broke down every wall she built - shut off every avenue of escape until she no longer wanted to escape... until she no longer questioned his love. Why resist? What could happen that hadn't already happened? He loved her and she loved him. What was more important?