Page 7 of This Reckless Home

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his diamond eyes piercing me, leaving me all churned up inside.

Our fingers brush as he takes the key from me, and a puff of air leaves my lips at the contact. It’s like I just touched a live wire, and it’s lighting me up inside, making my nerves sing.

Clearing my throat, I take a step away, his hand falling off my arm as I turn back to the space we’re walking into. It’s bright given the floor to ceiling windows that make up the front wall, though there are gauzy drapes that offer some privacy even when the curtains are open.

“The curtains in here are blackout, as the sofa is also an extra bed. If you need it for when Justin stays over,” I tell them, pointing at the seating while stepping more into the room. “The kitchen is over there, as you can see. It’s all open plan apart from the bedrooms and their en-suites.”

“Wait, each bedroom has its own bathroom?” Nox asks, and I nod, but avoid looking at him. I can still remember the feeling of his judgment, which wouldn’t hurt so much if there wasn’t a grain of truth to it.

“Yep, they’re just down that hall. The bedding is all clean, but I can order some new stuff, and I’ll get Tina to order an extra grocery shop, so let her know what food you like so she can add it. It won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon, probably at this rate, though perhaps we could get something delivered tonight⁠—”

I stop when a warm hand clasps mine, halting my fingers from wringing together.

“No need for new bedding; it’s more than enough to have a bed each. And we can get our own food as and when we need,” Anatole tells me gently, that damn piece of hair drifting over his eyes again as he tries to catch my gaze. “Okay?”

“Okay, Anatole,” I reply, watching as his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate slightly. When did we get so close?

I step away, taking a deep lungful of cedar and coffee-spiced air, as if I had just somehow forgotten to breathe. “Um, we like to have dinner together as a family; it’s one of the house rules, actually. Tonight is Friday, and the kids take turns deciding on a takeaway every Friday. Noah chose pizza. Do you like anything specific?”

Anatole gives me a smile, and sweet baby Jesus, he really needs to be careful just throwing those out there.

“Meat feast for all of us, please?” he asks gently, and lord have mercy on my poor lonely kitty cat, but that man begging would stop any world war.

“Got it,” I say, cringing at how much like a teenager I sound. I’m one step away from finger guns and thumbs-ups. “I can show you guys the rest of the house after dinner. There’s a home gym you might like, an indoor pool, sauna and steam room, plus a games room and a movie room.” One of his brows lifts, and I have to swallow hard because now I’m the one wanting to beg him. Shaking my head slightly, I turn to look at Nox. “A house fit for a princess, right?”

Colour blooms dark under his bronze skin, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck even as a small smile plays around those distracting, harsh yet plush lips.

“Sounds like it,” he mutters, and I chuckle.

“Dinner will be at six, so you’ve about an hour,” I inform them, and they each give me a nod of acknowledgement. “Okay, right. Well, see you then.”

Deciding I’ve been awkward enough for the moment, I turn to leave, stopping short when a hand wraps around mine from behind. My breath rushes out of me when lips press against the back of it, tingles racing across each nerve ending.

“Thank you, Bloom. For everything.” Anatole’s voice is a whisper against my cheek a moment later, a pleasurable shudder skating across me as his breath tickles my skin. Something warm unfurls in my solar plexus at the nickname he so casually uses.

“You’re more than welcome, Anatole.” My voice is hardly a breath, but I swear I hear a rumble of noise from him, his chest touching my back briefly before he lets go of my hand.

I don’t turn around, don’t want them to see how inappropriately red my cheeks are.

“See you at dinner,” I murmur, walking out before I do something stupid like climb one of them like the trees they are.

I’m helping Rachel with some homework on the dining table, a frown of concentration on her tanned face, when my phone dings with a notification from the gatehouse.

“Pizza is here!” I call, helping Rachel pack her things away. She’s all gap-toothed grin, scabbed knees from her latest tree-climbing mission and copper curls escaping her plait as the others all come rushing in, the room instantly turning to chaos.

Anna, with her cloud of dark curls bouncing around her tawny face, Mitchel’s deep brown skin stark against his bright yellow shirt that earned me my very first smile from him when I gave it to him. Sally looks at me with those soulful brown eyes set in a warm golden-brown face, a small smile tugging up her lips as she leads Peggy in by her hand, pale cheeks flushed pink and white-blonde plaits already coming loose.

They each help setting up the table with plates, napkins, and cups for the drinks. They’re excited, Noah and Sally singing a song about pizza, which frankly makes no sense but has us all laughing, regardless.

The doorbell rings a moment later, and I emerge from the dining room to almost bump into a hard chest.

“Steady, Blossom,” Steele’s deep voice rumbles as his hands grab my biceps to stop me tumbling over.

“Oops, sorry, Steele,” I rush out, feeling all flustered and also not really wanting to go anywhere. There’s something so safe about Steele, perhaps because he’s so enormous, this gentle mountain of a man who could probably snap me in half but holds me like I'm made of glass. Whatever the reason, I suddenly want to step into his arms, have them surround me and hold me close, and I have no doubt everything else would melt away.

You’re crazy is showing again, B.

The doorbell rings again, making me jump, and he chuckles, the sound dark and frankly dangerous to my knickers.