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“Do you mind grabbing some napkins from the pantry?”
She’d been hoping to escape, not get drawn into an intimate kitchen scene that made him more human and less the Dominant who’d introduced her to a dozen deviant delights. “Do you do this every morning?”
“Cook?” He turned toward her wearing an apron with Some Like It Hot embroidered on the front. “Yeah. I would eat croissants and doughnuts if I didn’t cook.”
“And the problem with that is what?” She found the napkins and carried them to the countertop.
He ladled beaten eggs into the pan then tossed in a handful of veggies. “Cheese?”
“The more the better.”
“A girl after my heart.”
Since he was facing the stove, she couldn’t read his expression. She hopped up onto a barstool, then shifted because her bottom was a little sore.
“There’s more coffee in the carafe.”
“I’ve had enough. Thanks.”
This time, he did look at her. “I’d like another one. With cream.”
She wished she’d called for a ride. Each moment that ticked by deepened their ties. “You’re closer.” Where had she found the courage to say that?
“You’re being difficult.” He reached for a wooden spoon and waved it in her direction.
Reading the threat, she climbed off the stool as she asked, “How much cream?” Hope closed her mouth to prevent the reflexive Sir from slipping out. Side-eyeing the spoon, she refilled his cup, then removed a carton of heavy cream from the refrigerator. No wonder her coffee had tasted so good. At home, she poured in liberal doses of sugar-free vanilla imitation creamer. This was a definite upgrade.
“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he asked when she placed the cup onto the counter beside him.
Before he could ask for anything else, she fled for the safety of her stool.
A few minutes later, he plated their food, then joined her.
The food was exceptional, and he made small talk while they ate, charming her, regaling her with stories of the Sterling company’s history. “We were the first to have running water in guest rooms.”
She recalled historical hotel images featuring water basins and pitchers. “I guess I’d never considered that there was a time that didn’t exist.”
“And televisions.”
“What?” Hope gave a mock shudder. “No TV? Say it isn’t so!”
“We started in New York City in 1947. As you might have imagined, it was an upgrade that many people appreciated. That became a strong selling point for families traveling with children. We were also the first to install air conditioners in public areas, after my great-grandfather stayed in the Maison Sterling in New Orleans, during what might have been a heat wave. In the late 1920s.”
It made sense that the hotel had been in the South. “I had no idea air-conditioning had been around that long.”
“It took years to have them in all rooms, as you might imagine, and it wasn’t until the late fifties that we launched an effort to bring it to every hotel in our portfolio. Many of the amenities in today’s travel industry were innovations pioneered by my family. Central reservations, telephones, hotels at airports. My grandfather, Barron, the one I worked for, traveled coast-to-coast, visiting our hotels. He’d sit in the lobbies, pretending to be a guest, and he’d talk to people about the things that would make their stay better. We’ve continued that tradition. Our executives are required to travel two weeks out of the year as if they were a regular consumer, sometimes under a false name if they’re known in the industry. No comped rooms. No upgrades. One of the weeks must be in hotels they haven’t stayed in before. They interact with the associates in valet, baggage handling, concierge, restaurants. And they report back to the head of their division. I’m thinking of expanding the program, down to regional managers.”
As much as Hope tried to keep an emotional barrier between herself and Rafe, she couldn’t. He was animated, charming. The constant glimpses of the complex man bothered her, making it impossible for her to think of him as nothing but a hard-ass Dom or uncaring tycoon. He was still speaking, so she shook her head to focus on him.
