Page 102 of Temporary Vows

I’m surprised he’s talking to me with such ease. As I watch him like this, laid back and calm, he almost seems like a regular guy. Not the brazen-faced, sharp-tongued person he shows the rest of the world.

I make my way over to the stool behind the island and sit. Dorian lifts the dome, and I’m impressed even more when I see the intricate floral design Vanessa piped into the pale buttercream.

“Wow, it looks amazing.” I gasp, admiring her craftsmanship.

“It tastes even better. And I suppose it will give you a slice of England.”

On hearing that, my interest piques. “What kind of cake is it?”

“A Victoria Sponge Cake, made from my old nan’s recipe book.”

My little heart skips. This is possibly the closest I’ll get to England for now. “I’ve never had that kind of cake before. And old nan?” I’ve never heard that term.

He smiles, and I find myself watching him closer.

“My great-grandmother.” He meets my inquisitive stare. “That’s what we all called her. Made a difference tonan, which would have been my mother’s mother. But we didn’t know her, so we didn’t really have a nan.”

I don’t miss the slight edge in his voice when he mentions his mother. I have a vague memory of him sounding the same way in the past whenever her name came up.

She was really mean to me once. I was only five at the time, but I remember.

I dropped a sweet on her carpet. It didn’t even stain, but she shoved me out the door and called me a little bitch.

I never asked Dorian about her after his parents divorced. And I won’t. I know he and his brothers went through hell with her. It was enough to know not to talk about her unless either of them mentioned her first.

“You’ll hear my family talk about Old Nan a lot,” Dorian adds in an almost wistful tone. “I liked her cakes.”

I smirk. “You don’t look like you even eat cake.”

He has a similar build to Knox, who was a football player. Dorian didn’t play sports yet still managed to maintain the physique of an athlete.

“I eat this cake.” He waves a hand over the cake and grins.

“Well, I can’t wait to try it.”

He flashes me a tight-lipped smile, then grabs two side plates from the cupboard and dessert forks.

I keep my eye on him, still watching, observing, wondering what he’s thinking.

He cuts the cake, lifts out a slice, then places it down on the plate, which he slides over to me.

“Go on, try it.” He nods.

The cake looks somehow more delicious now that it’s been cut, revealing layers of butter cream and jam. I reach for a fork and break off a chunk, eager to get it into my mouth.

The moment I do and taste it, holy hell, all my tastebuds awaken. It tastes like strawberries and vanilla and something else I can’t name, with a light fluffy texture that melts the instant it touches my tongue. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has ever tasted so phenomenal to me.

“Hmmm, oh my gosh.” I savor every crumb, relishing the burst of flavors.

“Good, right?” Dorian looks fascinated as he watches me.

“It’s fantastic. How did I not know about this before now?” Vanessa would have made the cake earlier when I was here getting ready for the party. She left before I did.

“She probably thought I’d share it with you. Though, I always tend to eat it all by myself.”

“I can’t blame you. It’s fantastic.” I chuckle, stabbing my fork into another bite.

Dorian watches me eat. I expect him to cut himself a slice, too, but he keeps his gaze on me for a moment before he turns away and shrugs out of his jacket. He takes off his tie and tosses it with the jacket onto the chair in the corner. Then he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up his thick, tattooed forearms and moves to the cupboard on my left. He opens the top cabinet and reaches for a box with gold lettering.