“Perhaps we should.” Her fingers twined with mine again and we set off once more.At her house I followed her through into the kitchen. “Rice, pa...ta or potatoes?”Such a mundane question after the morning we’d had was calming – reassuring, in a way. “Don’t mind. You know what spices went into it.”She nodded. “Pasta, then. Spaghetti, fusilli, linguine?”I remembered a humorous story about a visit to a very upmarket hotel and smiled. “Spaghetti, I think, please.”“Good.” She set about boiling a pan. His other hand traveled slowly down her body to rest on the curve of her hip. He grabbed her buttocks, bringing her hard up against him, making her devastatively aware of his intentions. ‘Go to hell, Damon,’ she glared at him. ‘I will not finish what she started,’ she whispered heatedly. His lips curved into a smug smile at her words. She felt something for him. He knew. But he didn’t know if he really wanted to use this against her anymore… He willed these annoying thoughts out of his head.. More

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