"Oh, he doesn't mind. My hubby knows I'm window shopping." She cast me an impish sideways glance. "I heard a rumor the new guest is staying in your house."
"His room got flooded by a burst pipe. He's in the spare room until Quentin gets the cleanup done."
"I see," she said with a bit too much emphasis. "At least you'll be close by to keep an eye on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Beautiful when the Kitten Brigade shows up. They'll eat that poor boy alive."
Val, done introducing himself to other guests, sauntered up to me and Ruth. "Shall we go, Eve? I'm looking forward to a private meal with my hostess."
Ruth's lips tightened in a knowing smile. "Private meal? My, Evie, I didn't realize you were expanding your services."
I stuffed my hands in my shorts pockets. "It's a special case. Val is staying in my house—by necessity, of course—and I invited him to have his meals with me."
Ruth winked at me. "I'm sure the Kitten Brigade has nothing to do with it." She caught sight of her husband, flapped her fingers at him in a mini wave, and said, "I'll leave you to your private meal. Nice to meet you, Val."
She patted Val's arm, then toddled off to join her husband.
I waved for Val to follow me out of the dining hall. We'd made our way down the long hallway and out the side door, heading toward my house, before he spoke.
"Kitten Brigade?" he asked.
"That's what the older ladies have named them. They're a group of twenty-something girls who started coming here on their spring breaks from college." I pushed open the outside door to my kitchen. "They've come here every summer for the past four years. They are, shall we say, very enthusiastic in their admiration for attractive men. The term Kitten Brigade came about because Ruth said those girls would be called cougars if they were older. Since they're young, they must be kittens. I pointed out baby cougars are called cubs, but Ruth insisted kitten was a better term."
"A cougar, meaning a woman who pursues younger men."
"Yes. But the Kitten Brigade does not discriminate based on age. They'll pounce on any man, old or young, as long as he's of legal age."
"They sound awful."
"Oh, they're not so bad. When they come here, they want to have fun. I know they all have steady jobs, though, and not as strippers. Some are in grad school studying law, anthropology, or psychology. Others are accountants, advertising copywriters, and other serious stuff."
"When will these kittens arrive?"
"Later this week."
The door clicked shut behind us, and I went to the fridge, pulling it open. "Want a sandwich?"
He moved up behind me, leaning around me to peer inside the fridge. "Let me make lunch for you. After making a meal for all those guests, you must be tired."
No, not really. Staring at his gorgeous bod kept me awake and energized.
The heat of him, so close against my backside, sent a tingly shiver through me. And God, the way he smelled. Spicy, woodsy, tempting as hell. My lids fluttered half shut as I drew in another lungful of his scent.
"Are you all right?" he asked in a sexy rumble, his lips grazing my ear.
"Mm, fine." I forced my lids to open all the way and wriggled away from him. "If you want to make lunch, be my guest."
"I am your guest." He bent to study the contents of the refrigerator. "But I'd love to feed you."
Conversation seemed like the best way to tame the desire simmering inside me or to at least distract myself from it. I perched on one of the stools on the other side of the island, my hands clasped on the wood surface. I wiggled my butt until I found a comfortable position. "May I ask you a personal question?"
"Go ahead." He smiled at me over his shoulder. "I'm not shy."
No kidding. I'd spent five years catering to the needs of people who preferred to go sans clothing, but none of them had the audacity of Val Silva.
"You live in Los Angeles, right?" I said. "But your accent, I can't quite place it."
"I've lived in Los Angeles for five years, but I'm originally from Porto Alegre, a city in southern Brazil." He grabbed packages of cheese and deli meat, tossing them onto the island. "I've spent a lot of time in America. When I was fifteen, my father was appointed the Brazilian ambassador to the US. We lived in Washington, DC, for three years. After that, I went to Harvard."
"The university?"