“Hi there.”

Betsy nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke behind her ear as she walked back into the kitchen, plunger in hand.

“Roarke! You scared me,” she said on a laugh turning to face him. He looked good. No. Better than good. He looked wonderful. He was wearing a white jacket with the sleeves pushed up his strong forearms and black T-shirt, a-la Don Johnson in the Miami Vice days. Betsy had to admit Roarke looked better than Johnson ever had in the clothes.

“You called,” he said. “I told you I’d be here in three.” He looked at his heavy, white gold watch. “I’m a little late, but here I am.”

Betsy smiled. “Well, great. Don’t worry about being late. I didn’t expect you to come over here. I just thought you’d call me back.”

He shrugged and moved over to stand by the sink while she put the plunger and the rubber gloves in the cabinet under it. “I was in the neighborhood. I figured I might as well stop over.”

She nodded and smiled, remembering the noises she heard when she’d called. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your evening. I didn’t actually think I’d get you on the first try.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything. We were done.”

“Oh.” Betsy gnawed on her bottom lip wondering how she could ask him about his date without seeming nosy.

“In fact, we had dinner not too far from here. Changs. You ever been there?”

Betsy smiled. “We did too—takeout. That’s exactly what I was calling you about.”

He moved closer until his arms were caging her against the cabinet. “Really? Did you know the Chinese say eating certain foods can increase the libido?”

He wasn’t physically touching her so why did it feel like he was setting her on fire?

“Roarke, Johnny’s upstairs,” Betsy said.