Servant? Really?
“And you’re awfully pretentious for a little nobody,” I counter, feeling his rage flicker and ignite.
“A nobody?” Landon repeats, sneering without remorse. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to know you. Any man who believes they need to brainwash someone to maketeafor them must be very insecure.”
Suddenly, Landon moves. He rounds the side of the island until he’s right in front of me, his chest heaving as he stares up at me.
“Apologize,” he demands. And as he opens his mouth again, and the air around us begins to shimmer, I know he’s about to make me. “Apolo—”
My hand clasps over his mouth, pressing his back into the marble island.
“How old are you? Mid-twenties?” I sneer, shoving my palm tightly against him. “You should be able to read a room. You should recognize those who are stronger than you.”
And then the room around us shifts. Fog pours in from every corner, every open cabinet, as the walls begin to lose their form, swaying slightly.
Darkness is bleeding from the ground and rising like a vicious ocean.
And Landon? Oh, god, I wish he weren’t so horrible because he looks delicious like this. Wide, fearful eyes and trembling lips against my skin. He’s flushed, so adorably so, as his eyes shift into a glowering heat and anger.
“Do you understand now?” I ask him, my voice low. “Do you recognize the power imbalance between us? How I could fuckingdestroyyou?”
Now, I normally don’t play with my food. But not only do I not have my equipment on me, but I seem to be trapped in this spot. In his glowing eyes.
Landon’s hand lifts, swatting mine away. I risk letting my hand fall back to my side, sure that I can stop him again if he attempts to entrap me in another wicked command.
“Who are you?” he asks, his voice a fierce thing.
“I’m your worst nightmare,little Lanny.”
The nickname is meant to demean him, to sound condescending and cruel. It has its desired effect as he flinches, glaring even harder now.
“Fuck you,” he snaps.
“Oh, you fucking wish,” I throw right back.
And then it’s silent. As the room returns to its original reality, we stand pressed to each other, panting and plotting each other’s demise right here, right now.
But I can see it there, in his eyes. In my line of business—and I’m not talking about being a chef—I have to be able to read others at the drop of a hat. And Landon? He’s as regretfully attracted to me as I am to him.
Beneath the hate and the fear, there is a silent streak. Something submissive and defiant at the same time. I knew it from the moment he batted those thick lashes; this man is a total brat. My fucking favorite.
Too bad he’s the worst kind of man; the kind I break down and swallow with no hesitation.
“… more of a muscle—” Julian’s voice dies as he steps into the kitchen.
I can sense him, sure, but my eyes are locked on Landon’s with no intention of looking away. On the one hand, I need to observe him. To find his weakness. On the other hand, it is no hardship to stare at him.
A shocked, feminine gasp resonates throughout the room, and Landon—who clearly had no idea we have company now—whips his head to the side.
“Shit,” he hisses, sliding out from between me and the island.
With his warmth gone, I can think more clearly.
“You’reBarfred?” the girl next to Julian asks. “I was expecting a super old guy, but you’re like, superhot!”
I finally rip my gaze from Landon, taking in our attendee and his friend. The girl has long red hair and bright eyes, her mouth hanging open as she stares at me.
