Free One Winter's Night by Brenda Jackson Page B

ulterior motives.”
    She tried ignoring the fluttering in the pit of her stomach caused by his term of endearment as she eyed him up and down. He had removed his jacket and tie and was standing in the middle of his humongous living room, looking at home and oh-so-sexy.
    “Can you?”
    “Can I what?”
    “Cook,” he said, opening blinds to another window.
    “Yes.”
    “The kitchen is around that bend in the wall,” he said. “After getting things set up, you can join me and we’ll see how well you can cook.”
    * * *
    When was the last time he’d whistled while cooking? Riley wondered as he pulled all the spices he needed out of the cabinets. He glanced to where Alpha stood at the island making dessert—sugar cookies. She had come up with the idea after discovering that he had all the ingredients she needed.
    This wasn’t the first time he’d ever invited a woman to his house by any means, and this wasn’t the first time one had shared space in his kitchen. But he would admit, although he didn’t want to do so, that she was the first whose presence felt totally right.
    He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, not wanting to ponder why he felt that way. All he knew was that he enjoyed glancing across the way and seeing her there. She was wearing a pullover sweater and a pair of skimmer jeans, and he liked the short leather boots on her feet. He thought the outfit was perfect for what he had in mind later. They were going horseback riding around his property after dinner.
    A thought then entered his mind. “You do ride, right?”
    She glanced over at him. “Ride what?”
    “A horse.”
    She chuckled and the sound echoed around his kitchen. “Yes. I went to school to become a vet, remember. One year I spent the entire summer on a horse ranch in Ocala, Florida, working as a ranch hand. It was definitely a learning experience. I’m no jockey, but I can hold my own.”
    He stopped what he was doing and turned around. “Glad you think so because we’re going riding later.”
    “We are?”
    “Yes.”
    She shrugged. “Okay.” She then returned to what she was doing.
    “How are you coming along over there?” he asked, curious. She had been quiet, concentrating on the task until he’d interrupted her just now.
    “Fine. You did preset the oven to 350 degrees, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. I haven’t made sugar cookies in a long time. What are the odds that you would have everything I need?”
    “Only because Bailey likes my kitchen and keeps it equipped.”
    She glanced up and around. “I can certainly see why she likes this one. It’s a cook’s dream. Beautiful oak cabinets, granite countertops, stainless steel appliances and—”
    “Hey, you have all those things in your kitchen, except your cabinets are maple instead of oak.”
    “Yes, but I can place my small kitchen in here three or four times over. Most men would see this much square footage in a kitchen as wasted space.”
    “I’m not most men.”
    She glanced over at him and moved her gaze up and down. “Yes, I can see that.”
    He smiled and shook his head. “You know those kinds of looks can get you into trouble.”
    An innocent smile touched her lips. “I’m not doing anything.”
    Instead of disagreeing with her, he turned back around to the sink to start peeling the potatoes that he planned to stew on top of the stove with pork chops and his special gravy. The dish wasn’t as good as McKay’s, but he didn’t think it was all bad.
    Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Alpha opened his oven door to slide the tray of cookies inside. “These are slow-baking, so an hour should do it.”
    “I can’t wait,” he said, turning toward her. “Once I get this started it will be on simmer for a while.”
    “All right. Do you want me to cover the rest of the info for the party before or after dinner? The only thing left to cover is the budget.”
    He nodded. On the drive over she had covered a lot, being detailed and