“I noticed you set the table. I normally eat in the kitchen when I’m not entertaining guests.” With a quick smile in his direction, Jill couldn’t decide if the uncontrolled fury of her heartbeat was because Chet smelled fresh and looked mouthwatering, or because she anticipated his reaction over tonight’s meal. She opted for the second. “Oh, I just assumed now that you had a chef, you’d want all the bells and whistles.” “Let’s keep it simple.” He smiled. His full, perfect lips filled with sincerity, relaxing the lines of his face. She almost regretted the meal she’d cooked. Her stomach knotted, but for the hundredth time that day she reminded herself of his arrogant laugh and the one-sided conversation she’d eavesdropped on that morning, where he’d joked about his three uses for women. “Okay, starting tomorrow I won’t polish the silver unless you’re having guests.”
