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or of any
effect it might have on him.
    He turned and sought refuge in the kitchen,
trying hard not to imagine ripping her shorts down and diving
between her warm, bare, slightly parted thighs.
    Man, you’ve gotta stop thinking things like
this about her!
    Blessed distraction came in the form of a
calendar featuring a pair of beribboned kittens.
    “Hey—it’s your birthday,” he exclaimed,
noticing the spidery old writing under the date.
    Jetta looked back over her shoulder. “How do
you know that?
    “It’s on the calendar here.”
    “Did she really remember?” The husky catch in
her voice told him it mattered a lot.
    “Shaky old-fashioned writing—bet it’s not
yours.”
    “Oh Gran, you absolute darling,” she murmured
softly. “You hadn’t forgotten everything after all.”
    He saw the brightness of unshed tears in her
silver-shadowed eyes, and hoped she wasn’t going to collapse in a
howling heap again.
    “So are you partying?” he asked with a degree
of desperation.
    “Yeah, right,” she muttered. “Gran’s only
just dead. You’re stealing half my house. I’ve got plenty to
celebrate.”
    “Boyfriend taking you to dinner, maybe?”
    Why do I want the answer to be ‘no’?
    She shook her head. “I had lunch with my old
flat-mates. I’m fine with that, given what’s happened.”
    “So that’s where you were. We still haven’t
popped that Moet. We’ve an extra reason to drink it now.”
    She sat back on her heels and smiled very
slightly.
    “Okay,” she agreed. “Once we’ve got a bit
more of this done.”
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Much later, he surveyed the finished effect
of the white painted walls in the dining room and nodded with
satisfaction. “Hell of a lot better,” he said, setting the roller
to rinse under running water. “I’m going home for a shower. Come
over about seven-thirty and I’ll rustle up something to eat with
the wine.”
    When Jetta eventually knocked on his door, he
registered red high heels, snug black leather trousers, spicy
perfume, and a silky red top with a neckline that made him clench
his teeth and draw a fast deep breath. He didn’t need this!
    Cursing to himself, he ushered her through to
a sheltered courtyard where he’d set up an outdoor table with two
big white dinner plates, two tall glasses, and a selection of
packages and pottles from the best deli in town.
    “Birthday dinner,” he said as he pulled out a
chair for her. As she sat, he glanced down. Her bra was definitely
wine red, and defiantly low cut. A line of cobwebby black lace
whispered across the half way line of her gorgeous breasts. He
imagined tiny matching panties, and her curvy body showing them off
to perfection.
    This time he didn’t try to rein back his
fantasy. Treats were meant to be enjoyed on birthdays—and she’d
never notice he was hard as hell as long as he stayed standing
partly behind her.
    Her gaze roved the table with apparent
pleasure. “You didn’t have to do this for me. I’ve been nasty to
you all day.”
    “Well, you’ve just made up for it, looking
like that.”
    I’m only being polite. Just complimenting her
on her birthday. It’s not like I’m putting a move on her.
    “You like?” she asked, angling a coquettish
look up at him. “Gran really disapproved of these trousers,
but...”
    “Yeah—there’s no Gran to disapprove any more.
I definitely like. Truce for the next hour or so?”
    She grinned at that. “I could probably last
about that long.”
    Anton attended to some of the food, prizing
lids off pottles, and tape from packages. Jetta tackled the rest
with murmurs of appreciation.
    “Happy Birthday, housemate,” he said,
reaching for the bottle of champagne.
    “You wish,” she drawled.
    “I know ,” he countered. “I don’t waste
my time on projects that go nowhere.”
    She pressed her lips together in a determined
line. “We’ll see.”
    He uncorked the bottle and leaned over her
shoulder. Wine foamed into the two glasses, and he