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“Thank you, Daniels. I would like you to meet Rose. Rose, this is Kisten Daniels, my right-hand man.”
I look up at Daniels and smile shyly. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Daniels barks a huge, uproarious laugh causing me to blush ten shades of red. “I’m not your ‘sir’ that’s Matthew. You can call me Kisten,” he says through his laughter. “I like this one, Bennett.” He side-steps past us into the elevator. I can still hear his laughter even after the doors slide shut.
“Sorry about that. Daniels doesn’t have any manners, that’s why I usually keep him in back,” Matthew says, his eyes dancing with amusement. I can tell he is holding back his laughter. I wish he wouldn’t. I would give anything to hear it. “Come.”
The room he leads me through is extravagant. In fact, it’s even nicer than the mansion Damon lives in, and that is saying something since that place is like a palace. I take everything from the exquisite art hanging on the walls, to the plush leather furniture that looks soft as butter. The wood floors are stained dark with a high shine finish, and the far wall that we are walking toward is floor to ceiling windows that open up to a balcony overlooking the city.
The view literally takes my breath away. Matthew leads me to a small table that’s set up like a gourmet restaurant. He pulls out a chair and helps me to sit. I’m slightly embarrassed because I notice that my chair is the only one that’s cushioned. I’m grateful, though, because sitting in one of these beautiful wrought iron masterpieces would have killed my bottom and back. He takes the seat next to me and pulls the lids off our plates.
“I hope you like fish, it’s the special in the restaurant tonight. Grilled sea bass on a bed of rice pilaf with spring vegetables.”
I chew my bottom lip, self-consciously. I’m mortified that Matthew has gone to such trouble, and I not only hate fish, but I am highly allergic. I debate for a minute on if I should tell him or just eat it and pray that we get me back to my room before I suffer from the consequences. I’m leaning toward just eating it because I don’t want to put him out any more than I already have. I owe him so much already—my life.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, obviously picking up on my inner debate.
Again, I can feel the blush creeping up my neck and cheeks, I decide on honesty. “Um, I’m actually allergic to fish,” I whisper then hurry on to say, “but these vegetables look fantastic.” I smile up at him, trying to not make this a big deal.
“Nonsense, I will have something else brought up for you. Any other food allergies I should make the chef aware of?” He doesn’t show any signs of annoyance at the inconvenience.
I chew my lip again and nod. “Most types of berries and seafood.”
He swipes his finger across the screen on his phone for a few moments before laying it on the table and covering our plates. “Would you like a drink while we wait?” he asks.
“Water would be lovely. Doc said no alcohol with my medicine.”
He opens a sparkling water and pours some in both of our wine glasses. I can’t help but smile at him curiously, picking up again on my line of thinking he answers my unspoken question. “I don’t drink when I’m at the club.”
After a few minutes of awkward silence, the elevator dings and a drop-dead gorgeous woman brings two covered dishes to our table. She sets them down, removes the covers, and takes away the old plates before quickly disappearing after a nod of thanks from Matthew. He gets better service in his home than I’ve ever gotten in a restaurant. Not that I’ve been in many.
I look down at the new plate at the most delicious looking piece of steak and huge baked potato loaded with all the fixings. My mouth waters.
“This looks fantastic,” I say as I pick up my knife and fork. The knife cuts through the steak like its butter. I put the morsel in my mouth, and I swear it melts on my tongue. It tastes even better than it looks. I can’t hold back the groan of satisfaction and quickly cut away another piece and pop it in my mouth. Several bites later, I look up and notice Matthew is sitting there watching me eat and hasn’t taken a single bite of his own food. I set my knife and fork down and lift my glass to my lips, trying to hide my embarrassment. I’ve never had a meal this good.
Don’t get me wrong they brought me food to my room three times a day while I’ve been here, but I haven’t been able to keep much down since the medicine makes me sick. This is the first I’ve had an appetite since what happened with Damon. I peek over the rim of my glass at Matthew, he is still watching me, and my discomfort is rising by the second.
With shaky hands, I set my glass back down, before I can pull my hand back, Matthew reaches out and takes my hand in his. “Don’t be embarrassed, love. It’s good to see you finally eating. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” His voice is rough with some emotion that I can’t quite place. He lets my hand go and slowly pulls his hand back to his side of the table, never taking his eyes off me as he lifts his knife and fork.
I smile shyly and resume eating at a more dignified pace. Several times I catch myself groaning in satisfaction because the truth of it is this is the most scrumptious food I have ever tasted. It’s leaps and bounds from the ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches I am used to. If he only knew. But no one knows. Well, Damon knows because telling him my story was part of our deal. I wonder how much he told Matthew when he bought my contract. I still haven’t a clue what to think about that one
The rest of the meal passes in comfortable silence. I eat until it feels like I might burst. With my stomach almost uncomfortably full, I can’t fight the drowsiness that plagues me. I yawn several times, apologizing each time. Matthew tells me to stop apologizing and offers to walk me back to my room.
The room is dark when we get back downstairs. I hate the idea of being alone again. Spending an hour with Matthew isn’t enough. He’s been busy with work the last few days, and I haven’t seen much of him. He’s come in and checked on me a couple times throughout the day but couldn’t stay long. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I miss him. How do you miss someone you barely know?
All I know is that I’ve never felt safe with any man in my entire life until Matthew. He came to my rescue when I needed it most and has given me so much without asking for anything in return. And my time here is nearly up. Tomorrow, it’s back to reality.
He flicks on the lamp, leaving the brighter overhead lights off. “So you’ll be going home tomorrow?” I’m not sure if it is a question or a statement of fact.
“I suppose so.” I try to sound excited. Someone getting out of a hospital-like environment should be excited to finally go home, but I know my tone falls flat when a frown creases his brow.
“You don’t sound happy about that,” he points out.
Releasing a sigh, I explain part of my reasoning for not wanting to leave. “You’re right, I’m not looking forward to leaving.”
“Why’s that?” he asks curiously.
“Well, one reason is that I realized earlier today that I’m going to have to go to Damon’s house to get my things. I’m not really looking forward to that.”
