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“He would,” I told her resolutely, and something in her eyes shifted, like she knew I was telling the truth. But within a flash, her chin was up, and I knew the only thing that was going to happen here was my patience was going to be stretched thin.
I had no desire for the woman to lose her job, especially when the Bratva and Five Points had been enemies until this marriage, and I was fair by nature. So, rather than get mad, or throw my weight around, I stated, “Treat me with disrespect again, and we’ll have an issue.”
Though she grunted as a reply, when I reached for the knife drawer again, she didn’t bump into me. She avoided me. And Christ, I considered that a win.
Even as I wondered if she’d have to be fired eventually or if I could win her over—and if I even wanted to go to that much trouble with a woman who was supposed to be my staff—I got to prepping the shake.
It was only a little thing, but I liked to give the glass to Eoghan. It made me smile, watching him sniff the drink. Not like it was poison. Like it was weird. Girly. I could just imagine him thinking that, to be honest.
He wasn’t like I’d imagined, and yet, he was what Declan had promised.
Fair.
Kind.
Cold.
I kind of wanted to warm him up, even as I was grateful for his fair spirit and kind nature. Take last night…there was no way a man like him would ever, in a million years, watch my favorite movie unless he was trying to be nice. But watched it he had. Suffered through the sequel he had.
Who did that?
What kind of made man did that for a bride he didn’t want?
Eoghan.
I blew out a breath as I used the back of a spoon to rub off the skin on the ginger root, then I plopped it into the mix along with a couple of heaps of my protein shake mix, which I pulsed with the chopped up apple. The soft avocado flesh and lettuce I added next, along with the nut butter.
Having fed him a tropical one, a berry one, and a green shake so far, I knew he preferred sweeter ones, which came as a surprise because he didn’t seem to touch any other kind of desserts. The fridge was free of all snacks, as were the cupboards, and the only things that were in there was the stuff I’d brought with me.
Someone had unpacked the boxes.
Had it been Winnie?
The idea of her touching all my stuff, when she hated me, made me want to wash it all. Disinfect it.
Was that overkill?
I pulled a face, even as I grabbed the mason jars I served the shakes in, poured out the mix, and then, without a backward glance and leaving the dishes for Winifred to clean up when normally I’d have handled that myself, I exited the kitchen.
Eoghan was just leaving the bedroom, and he was freshly showered too. He smelled expensive. Yeah, weird. But he did. Like heat and sandalwood with a tang of musk. It got to me. His scent was powerful, and when I thought of what he smelled like in the morning? When I woke up close to him?
It was even headier.
And the heat of his body? So close to me? It was like sleeping with a furnace—in a good way. I always needed an electric blanket when it wasn’t summer, but with Eoghan there to warm my feet up? Who needed to waste the electricity?
“Breakfast,” I greeted him, shoving the jar in his direction.
His nose crinkled at the distinctly green color. “Not the berry one?” he complained, making me smile. I’d known that was his favorite so far.
“No berries to put in it,” I informed him.
A grunt escaped him as he accepted the jar and muttered, “Thank you, Inessa.”
“You’re welcome, Eoghan.”
He took a sip, pulled a face. “Tastes like a garden.”
“It’s good for you.”
