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zipper.
    She held her breath against the wave of sensations pricked by his nearness and his touch. If he ever decided to seduce her, she’d be in deep trouble.
    Who was she kidding? She was already in trouble. First thing in the morning she was making some calls to get herself a different bodyguard.
    Jack met her gaze, his expression enigmatic. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
    Larsen nodded and followed him into the hall, but as he led her into the living room, his hand slipped around her upper arm, gripping her lightly just beneath the sleeve of her T-shirt. His thumb brushed over her bare skin in a soft caressing motion that was too intimate, too pleasant.
    She jerked her arm away and winced as harsh discomfort radiated down her arm from her shoulder. “I’m not an invalid,” she said tightly. Silence, heavy and reproachful, followed her into the living room.
    The room was as masculine as the bedroom, but more fully decorated. Leather upholstery and rustic wood sat against a backdrop of light olive walls and hardwood floors with area rugs reminiscent of the southwest. On the walls were framed prints of sailboats caught on rough seas. The room was simple, yet attractive. Inviting. The kitchen, on the other hand, was plain and functional.
    She caught the scent of a mouthwatering aroma and made a small, involuntary sound of appreciation. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment.
    He watched her with an expression that appeared almost boyish. “I tried something new tonight. I hope you like it.”
    Be the bitch, she told herself, but she couldn’t do it. Self-protective she might be, but she’d never intentionally crossed the line to cruel.
    â€œIt smells delicious.”
    Though the words were without inflection or an ounce of enthusiasm, the smile that lit his eyes set butterflies to flight in her stomach. Larsen nearly groaned out loud. She might as well admit defeat right here and now. How was she ever going to steel herself against this man’s charm? And she must. She couldn’t let him get too close.
    Jack seated her at the table, then went to fetch their dinner as Larsen’s gaze followed him. He moved with an athlete’s strength and coordination, every movement controlled and sure. As bodyguards went, she could have done worse. Much worse. Heaven knew, she enjoyed watching him.
    If only his sharp eyes didn’t have to watch her quite so closely in return.
    Â 
    Jack watched with amusement as Larsen dropped her fork for the second time. She was clearly right-handed, but trying to eat with her left to avoid jarring her injured shoulder. With an exasperated sigh and a wry roll of her eyes, she picked up the uncooperative fork, then dug back into the chicken paprika he’d cut into bite-size pieces for her.
    The woman was a puzzle. One moment she was snapping at him for touching her, then minutes later he caught her watching him over her dinner plate with raw feminine interest in those golden-brown eyes. Was the Ice Queen warming up to him at last? Or was she, as he was beginning to suspect, no ice queen at all?
    He watched her devour the meal with obvious relish. “You’re hungry.”
    She looked at him with those wide, naturally slumberous eyes as she swallowed. “I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. And this is—” she made a sound of appreciation deep in her throat “—unbelievable.”
    The compliment pleased him. He saw an opening to draw her out and took it. “Do you like to cook?”
    Her mouth twisted into a rueful frown. “As little as possible. I never really learned. My dad didn’t know how and my mom…died when I was eight.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    She shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it.” But something moved in her eyes, sharp and fresh, belying her words. He could almost see her pulling back and away, her expression turning into that of