“It was a long time ago. I’m not carrying a torch for her, or anyone. What about you? Are you seeing someone?”
Because Darcy had blatantly pried into his past, there was no way she could avoid his question. “With a new business, there’s been no time. I do like men, though,” she added and then blushed.
“That’s good. Now, I’m not completely inept in the kitchen. I’ve figured out how to broil a steak. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”
Startled by the unexpected invitation, Darcy hauled herself back to reality. “You realize you’re trashing my life, don’t you?”
Griffin discounted her complaint. “That’s business, it’s not personal. Besides, I’m sick of eating alone.”
Darcy ran her hands down her dusty overalls. “Sorry, but I’m a mess.”
“That’s easily solved. I’ve half a dozen bathrooms. Choose one and shower, or soak in the tub, and I’ll lend you a robe.”
Darcy imagined a black silk robe and, custom-tailored for his impressive size, it would conveniently fall open to provide a provocative glimpse of her petite figure. Embarrassed just thinking about it, she straightened and rested her hand on her hip.
“Does that line actually work for you?”
“What? You’ve lost me.”
“You know damn well what I mean.” Darcy didn’t even try to mimic his accent, but she succeeded in producing a seductive tone. “Come on in, I’ll broil you a steak. Just slip into my robe and get comfortable.”
Griffin raked his hand through his hair. “Granted, you’d not be the first woman to wear my robe, but all I’m talking about here is dinner.”
“How flattering.”
“Flattery had nothing to do with it,” Griffin insisted.
His glance had turned to ice, and Darcy wasn’t even tempted to stay. “Mr. Moore, you are drop-dead gorgeous, but we’re on very dangerous ground here, and I’m going to leave before one of us says something she’ll regret.”
She stepped to the backdoor and rested her hand on the doorknob. “Let’s talk about the grounds tomorrow morning. How’s nine o’clock for you? If you still want me to handle the job, that is.”
Griffin frowned slightly. “Has no one ever told you that you’re drop-dead gorgeous too?”
“Oh, please. On a good day, I’m cute, nothing more.”
Griffin closed the space between them and dropped his voice to a haunting whisper. “Beauty, Darcy, is in the eye of the beholder.”
Darcy watched him lean down and, even knowing what he meant to do, she couldn’t make her feet carry her out the door. He placed his fingertips under her chin to tilt her face up to his and then kissed her so gently, so softly, so sweetly, that it took her breath away.
It was all she could do not to grab hold of his sweatshirt and yank him back down to her level. “I’m out of here,” she cried, and she forced herself right on out the door. She hurried around to the side of the house where she’d parked her truck, but Griffin was right on her heels.
The motion-sensitive exterior lighting blinked on, and she was in no danger of tripping or becoming lost. “I can find my way.”
“I know, but I’m coming with you anyway. A gentleman always escorts a lady to her car.”
He might have excellent manners, but Darcy wondered if anyone ever dared to tell him what to do. As they passed by the four-car garage, she was surprised to find a Land Rover parked outside.
“I thought you’d drive a Porsche,” she shot over her shoulder.
“I got over fast cars in my twenties.”
“I’m sorry I missed that.” Darcy nearly leapt into her truck, then had to fish her keys from her pocket.
“Wait a minute. I owe you some money.”
“I’ll pick it up in the morning. Good-night.”