Undercover Passion by Raye Morgan

I’d add some cookies to the menu for good measure.”
    He followed her back into the kitchen, enjoying the way she seemed to fling herself about in the room, casually competent, supremely at home. There didn’t seem to be any self-consciousness about her as she worked under his gaze.
    â€œMaybe that’s your problem,” he said, just tosay something. “Maybe you’re light-headed from lack of food.”
    She turned back toward him, frowning. “I didn’t know I had a problem.”
    â€œOh, you’ve got a problem all right.” He grinned at her.
    â€œAnd what is that problem?” she asked, hands on her hips.
    He raised one eyebrow. “Me,” he said softly.
    He held her gaze with his. Something quivered in her, vibrating like a tuning fork. He wanted to kiss her again. All he had to do was reach for her. She wanted him to.
    But he held back. A slight furrow remained between her brows. She was wondering why.
    So was he. Deliberately, he pulled his gaze away from hers.
    â€œI really ought to get going,” he said abruptly.
    She was shaking her head. “Can’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œYour shirt is drying. You’ll have to wait.”
    He supposed she had him there. He grimaced. Oh, well, he’d tried to do the right thing.
    â€œAnd anyway, the tea is ready. Sit down and have some with me.”
    He looked toward the teapot. He’d watched every move. She’d used nothing but commercial tea bags, sealed in their packets. He supposed he might risk having some.
    â€œYou can’t exist on tea alone,” he noted, still trying to dig into what she’d been putting into her system. “Especially when you won’t take vitamins.”
    She turned back to the counter and began pouring out the tea into stoneware mugs.
    â€œOh, what do you know about it?” she said lightly. “I’ll bet your eating habits are horrible.”
    He nodded slowly. He had to agree with her there.
    â€œFor instance,” she went on, turning to hand him a steaming mug, “what did you have for breakfast this morning?”
    He stopped, his back against the counter. He didn’t have to think hard. This morning had been like every other morning. “Nothing.”
    She put her hands on her hips, making her breasts press against the fabric of her lacy shell in a way that made him swallow hard.
    â€œAnd what did you have for lunch?”
    He thought for a moment. “A cold beer.”
    â€œAnd?”
    He shrugged, giving her a rueful grin. “That was it.”
    â€œAhh.”
    â€œThat was all that was in my refrigerator.” He was teasing her now. “Beer is liquid bread, after all. Very nutritious.”
    â€œDream on!”
    â€œWait. I did have something else.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI found an old Twinkie left over from—”
    â€œUgh! You are in sad shape.” She picked up a packaged bar from a sack on the counter and handed it to him. “You’ve got to eat this right now.”
    He turned it in his hand. “What is it?”
    â€œA nutritional bar. From the new clinic line.”
    He looked up sharply. “I thought you told me there were no products like this.”
    She shrugged innocently. “I hadn’t heard about these. They’re brand-new. We haven’t even worked out the marketing for them yet.”
    His fingers tightened around it. Interesting. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “But you’ve been testing them.”
    â€œSure. They’ve been testing them for the last few weeks.”
    Very interesting. This could be it.
    â€œUh-huh. Sure, I’ll take one.” He dropped it into his pocket. “I’ll have it later.”
    â€œGood.” She smiled at him. “Then you can let me know what you think.”
    â€œWhat? You haven’t tried them?” Did that mean this theory was down the drain? He felt a