brim with tiny wood strawberries, all of them bright red.
"Wood strawberries! Thank you!" Cleo couldn't quite hide her excitement when she took hold of the bowl. "We used to gather them as children, but it takes such a long time because they're so small!"
"But it's worth it, because—"
"—they're so sweet and delicious!" she finished for him, and then they were both laughing at each other. "So much better than the big ones. Thank you! That means that we're all set for dessert."
She showed Steven the way into her kitchen—the house was small, but the kitchen had been her Grandma's favorite room, and it was large enough to cook with a hungry gaggle of children seated at the table.
Now, Steven helped her to carry the food she had prepared outside, and then he busied himself with lighting the wood.
It wasn't dark yet. The air was still warm, and a gentle breeze came from the lake. The birds were singing in the distance, and every now and then Cleo could hear the by now familiar chatter of the squirrels that seemed to live nearby.
Cleo felt happy. She realized it with almost surprise. She'd been too busy to feel sad ever since she'd arrived here. But now, with nothing to do but watching the flames and the sizzling fish, with a glass of wine and a sexy, mysterious man by her side, she felt happy. It was the same happiness she had known here as a child: that feeling that everything was as it should be, and that only good things were waiting for her.
"What are you thinking of?" Steven asked softly. "You're smiling."
She felt herself blushing. "I'm thinking of the adventures we had as children. So many adventures. Every day was exciting. We'd climb rocks by the lake. We'd follow one of the creeks to its source. We'd try to catch a lizard without falling into the pond."
"And have you caught any lizards yet?" His eyes were crinkling as he smiled at her.
Steven looked at ease as well. Before, every now and then, she'd felt like there was more to him. Some deeper mystery—although perhaps that had been wishful thinking. Maybe she was just making up reasons, and she would have felt like this about any man who was so completely different to Walter.
No. No, she still couldn't explain it even to herself, but he made her feel good . Steven might be a man who camped in the forest and who hunted dangerous animals for a living, but he'd never treated her with anything but respect. Moreover, there had been that spark between them from the beginning. She'd never had a man look at her like he did. His eyes could turn all intense, the warm brown heating to amber, and all of that heat was focused on her. As if she was just as much of a puzzle to him as he was to her.
"I haven't tried catching a lizard yet,” she murmured, teasing a little. “In fact, the first time I went to the pond, I caught a quite different creature..."
He laughed in delight, although she could see him flush in embarrassment as well. Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about—but she wasn't about to tell him that. At least not yet.
Now she was the one blushing harder as her eyes lingered on that intriguing glimpse of muscled chest revealed by the V of his shirt.
"Sorry," he said softly. "That's the first time that happened. But at least I could warn you about the jaguar. So there's one good thing that came out of that surprise..."
Cleo’s heart was fluttering in her chest. "That wasn't the only good thing."
God, what am I doing? What if he doesn't feel like I do? What if it is way too early? What if—
Her thoughts broke off when he reached out and touched her hand. The contact was a shock—it was like being hit by lightning. Heat sizzled through her. She felt her heart speed up. She couldn't look away from his eyes.
So what if this was a bad idea? She had as much of a right as anyone else to make bad decisions.
And there's nothing bad about Steven—nothing at all, her mind supplied as she remembered the powerful shape of his body bathing in