Page 21 of The Chef and the Countess

“Jaysus,” Liam mumbled. “Lady.”

Drew gave him a wave as he exited the office.

There was no time like the presence to speak to the countess. Liam jumped to his feet and entered the kitchen area. “Enya?”

His head waitress came to stand before him. “Aye?”

“Can you supervise until I return? I need to speak to Celia. I won’t be long.”

“We’ve everything under control.”

Liam nodded and headed toward the rear door and the outside stairs. What in the bloody hell was he going to do with a widowed countess? If she was even a widow. Maybe she ran away. Who knew? Aristos could be a flighty lot. Why didn’t she tell him she was—or is—married to an earl? He already guessed she was quality, considering her relation to a viscount and her mode of speech. But her uncle and husband were earls? Wasn’t that a step or two from being a duke?

Liam took the stairs two at a time and burst into the hall, his exasperation roiling at full throttle. So much for Drew’s advice about being compassionate. As for patience? Due to his horrid upbringing, Liam had none, and it fueled his temper above all reason. He pushed the door open to her room, but she wasn’t there. Growling, he stamped down the hall and entered the water closet—empty. Then he heard it—someone humming. Liam threw open the connecting door without thinking, and what he saw nearly brought him to his knees. Desire tore through him, heating his blood.

Celia. In the tub, naked.

There were a few bubbles in the water, but not enough to cover those luscious, generous breasts. He stared as a wave of passion tore through him. Liam couldn’t move or breathe.

It was the most glorious sight he had ever seen.