"Mmmmmmmm, that's good clam chowder!"
Carolyn licked the hollow of her spoon. He watched, riveted, as her tongue lingered, then flicked at its tip.
"Captain Gregg, how long have you been standing there?"
"I, Madame?" He pulled at his turtleneck, then a chair. Her lips twitched imperceptibly. He seated himself cautiously at the table.
"That old stove just heats up the kitchen, I guess." Carolyn raised her eyebrows.
She dipped her spoon languidly into the creamy broth and leant forward, offering him a taste.
"Care for a bite, Captain?"
Their eyes met, her mirth vanished.
Her heart sank, once more.