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I turned to face her and felt like she’d punched me in the gut.
She wore an old college hoodie with yoga pants that hugged her amazing ass. She hadn’t a stitch of makeup on her face, giving her an aura of youthfulness. And the way she had her thick braids pulled into a high ponytail reminded me of the girl from five years ago. The girl who’d been mine. The girl whose hair I had the right to fist and use to bring her in for a kiss.
We held each other’s gazes. The weight of so many things we couldn’t say sitting so heavy between us. One day, when it all went down, I’d tell her everything. Get her to forgive me.
Her pupils dilated, turning her eyes into rings of blue, and the familiar surge of lust pulsed between us. She licked her plump lips, and her breath grew shallow, hinting at the arousal building inside her.
Fuck. I’d never survive this.
Shaking off the trance, I moved in her direction and asked, “Would you clarify that statement?”
“Nope.” She strode away and then called over her shoulder. “Let’s go. I want to have breakfast.”
Okay, Angel. No matter what version of you that you try to throw at me: brat, diva, bitch, broken, or anything in-between, I can handle it.
I kept a few feet behind her until she entered the kitchen, where I remained on the periphery. There she busied herself, chatting with the staff and preparing the ingredients for her breakfast.
The morning kitchen duty was a tradition she kept up to pay homage to her father. From the time I could remember as a child, Theios Peter would spend the morning with the kitchen staff, preparing his breakfast and learning about them. The short time he’d spent with them gave him a chance to learn different things about the household and any gossip that generally wouldn’t reach his ears.
Peter Angelos was known for being as ruthless as they came, but he cared for his people and knew how to run his empire, inside and out.
His one biggest mistake had been trusting Andraius to the level he had. It had cost him everything.
“Eat.” Nerine stood before me with an omelet, making me realize I’d spaced out.
“You’re feeding me? I thought you hated me.”
Something flickered in her cobalt eyes as I took the plate.
Instead of responding to my statement, she said, “It’s weird to have you staring at us while we have breakfast. Might as well join us.”
I glanced down at my food and looked at hers on the butcher block table behind her. My omelet was filled with sautéed spicy vegetables, the exact way I liked it, and hers had only spinach and cheese. Why would she go out of her way to make something for me?
Then it hit me. It was our thing, too. We’d loved to cook together and make things for each other. I’d taken multiple cooking classes with Nerine under the guise of being her bodyguard while she was in high school.
The pulse of energy hummed between us again. Nerine bit her lower lip, and a flush crept over her cheeks. My body responded, and I’d never been so grateful for the fucking suit jacket covering my now engorged cock.
Fuck. I had to get this under control. This was only the first day.
“Did you make breakfast for Stefano every morning, too?” I asked in a tone meant for her ears only. “Or is this a stroll down memory lane, Angel?”
As if sense came back to her with my words, she closed her eyes briefly, gritted her teeth, and hurried to her place at the table.
The kitchen staff glared at me as if they sensed I’d said something to upset Nerine, but I kept my face stoic. Of course, they weren’t part of the originals who worked on alternate days of the week. So, my experience with this group left me questioning their loyalties. Though if I gauged anything by the frosty reception I garnered now, I’d say they loved Nerine and wanted nothing to do with me.
To keep the peace and stay on their good side, I said, “Thank you, Mrs. Angelos. Making breakfast was very considerate of you.”
“You’re welcome.” Nerine lifted her gaze to mine for the briefest of seconds before digging into her food.
* * *
“How’d the morning go?” Theo asked as he met me outside of the Angelos library, where Nerine had barricaded herself for three hours following the end of breakfast.
“The forecast ranges between ice storms and Antarctic conditions.”
My response garnered chuckles from two team members stationed outside the library’s mahogany doors.
“Then I guess I should have worn a heavy coat.” Theo gestured for me to follow him. “We need to have a proper discussion with her.”
