He shrugged. “I gave it to Petrov.”
“Excuse me?”
“He needed a place to live anyway. Fucking Eva told him his bachelor pad was pathetic. He decided he needed to find a new place and mine just so happened to be available since I’m a married man and all.”
“I see. That’s very generous of you.”
The way he winked at me had my belly clenching. “I’m nothing if not a humanitarian, lass. Why else would you have fallen desperately in love with me when we first met?”
I snorted. I couldn’t help myself. “Yeah, because nothing says love like a trip to the emergency room and anaphylaxis.”
“I couldn’t help it you tried to kill me. You found my one weakness.”
“Cardamom. So unsuspecting and delicious.”
“I’ll pass on that. Deadly and devious, more like. That wee spice has nearly ruined my day more than once.”
“Death does seem to put a damper on one’s day.”
“It won’t kill me, you know.”
“What?”
“Nae. It just makes my lips all puffy and my throat itch.”
“But... you... EpiPen...”
“I keep it in case the reaction gets severe.”
“So we didn’t need to go to the hospital that night?”
He grinned, and I wanted to throttle him. “No, but you were so adorably concerned. If you recall, there was no changing your mind. You drove like a bat out of hell.”
“So what did they do to you at the hospital?”
“Gave me a strong dose of Benadryl.”
Jesus, this man was infuriating. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you really have listened? I don’t think so. You had it in your mind that you’d killed me. How on earth were you going to explain that one to your sister?”
I winced. It had flashed in my mind more than once on the drive to the hospital that I was going to have to explain the death of my brother-in-law’s star player.
“Right, then. Glad to have that out of the way. Anything else you’re allergic to? I should take notes.”
“Why, so you can kill me?”
“Maybe.”
“Sadly for you, cardamom is my only weak point. Nothing else can take me down.” He shifted from foot to foot, his gaze trailing up the stairs. “So, about that shower?”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Top of the stairs, first door on the right.”
Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t come downstairs, and I was getting antsy. What was he doing up there? Investigating my closet? Stealing my panties? Rolling around in my sheets so I’d have to smell him when I went to bed? It seemed fitting he’d be trying to mark his territory. Freaking alpha male athletes.
I tromped up the stairs, calling his name, but he didn’t answer. When I knocked open the bathroom door, there was only silence. “Taylor?”
The shower wasn’t running. The light wasn’t on either. Oh, this man. Where the hell was he?