"Here you are," she repeated, and then she began to circle Ross, for lack of anything better to do, looking him up and down, everywhere but into those piercing blue eyes. He was awfully good-looking. How could she ever have mistaken him for one of Mason's weird friends?
She stopped, finger to her lips, contemplating, not at all sure what she was going to do. It would be easy to go ahead and hire this... this Ross Bennington person. But something told her it wouldn't be particularly bright.
"I don't know," she said slowly, half teasing, half serious. "I don't want to overdo it here. I'm not sure Aunt Doris is going to believe I could ever have snagged someone quite so... so..." She waved a hand, unable-or unwilling-to put it into words.
"What's the matter?" He looked down at himself, just a bit nonplussed.
"Not a thing," she admitted, a reluctant smile tweaking the corners of her mouth. "That's just it. You'll over whelm her."
"I hardly think so," he replied. He glanced up, his eyes narrowed. "I didn't overwhelm you."
That's what you think, she mused as she stepped back and leaned up against the wall, still staring at him. His blue gaze followed her. She examined his straight, dark brows, the rugged jawline, the crispness of the white collar at his strong neck. In her wildest dreams she could not have conjured up a more perfect specimen to fit the ideal of what might please Aunt Doris. He looked intelligent, aware, successful-and damned attractive at the same time. What more could Charity ask for?
"What about it?" he asked when she still hesitated. "Are you going to let me stay and be your husband?"
His saying the word sent a shock through her. "I'm still thinking about it," she said defensively.
His grin was crooked and endearing. "I guess it's come down to a fight between me and the French cook, hasn't it?"
She found herself smiling back. "I guess so."
He took a step closer. "Well, I may not speak French, but I can hold chairs and pour the wine and smile a lot." He shrugged casually. "I mean, isn't that the way hus bands operate when aunts come to call?"
His gaze still held hers.
"I don't know," she said quickly, pulling at the hem of her sweater. "I'm not sure just what husbands do. I've never had one before."
He took another step closer.
"Then we're even," he said softly. "I've never been one before."
Crazy. That was the word that kept sailing through her head. She was crazy to feel this sort of buzzing glow as he came nearer, crazy to think she could live with this man hanging around for the next week, crazy not to send him out the door immediately.