“You’re hardly a stranger. And you could have called ahead of time,” she scolded. “It might just have occurred to you that I’d need thirty seconds to put the house in order and make up a bed.”

“I brought dinner,” Morgan said, defending himself. His eyes were flickering over the shop, and he didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. “It actually looks as if the two of you are taking this hobby of yours seriously!”

“Hobby?” she asked blankly as she finished cleaning her hands, rubbed a small amount of cream on them and reached promptly for the grocery bag he was more than patiently holding. She forgot about his strange characterization of their work as she rummaged within. “Steaks! You adorable man, you’ve brought a feast!”

And he brought the cooking skills to go with it. Morgan probably knew his way around a kitchen better than she did-cooking, she often teased him, was his second-favorite bachelor’s hobby. She was duly shooed upstairs to shower and change while he marinated the steaks. Within a half hour they were both seated in the living room. Morgan had uncorked the wine and was pouring it into two glasses.

The long cotton dress Erica wore was older than sin and intended for such. Once Kyle’s favorite, it was a mix of forest and leaf greens, with a low smocked bodice and loose, flowing skirt. Barefoot still, with her hair streaming to her shoulders, she had a sensual sparkle in her eyes that the man across from her made no secret of appreciating.

Erica, on the other hand, was noting with amusement that Morgan had lost no time in making himself at home. His tie littered one table, and his coat was draped on another; his shoes were already discarded by the couch and his keys and reading glasses were stashed on the bookshelves. When he left the next day, which she’d already been informed was the plan, she would have to trail after him the way a mother did a two-year-old. But then, it had been exactly that way on his frequent and just as impromptu visits in Florida.