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She blows out a frustrated sigh that stirs the strands of dark blonde hair hanging close to her cheeks. “What difference does it make if I want to eat or not?”
“It makes a big difference, which I think you know very well.” I lift the lid on the platter, revealing a perfectly seared steak, baked potato, and asparagus in hollandaise sauce.
I’d swear I can hear her swallowing the saliva pooling in her mouth.
“You’re an investment. Don’t forget that.” I unfold the linen napkin Nora included with the tray and lean closer, clicking my tongue when Delilah flinches away. “Grow up. I’m tucking your napkin in.” I fold a corner over the neckline of her t-shirt and spread it over her chest. I’ve had less pleasant tasks.
“Gee, sorry. I can’t imagine why I’d be nervous around you.”
Right. That. “The past two days were difficult for me.” I pick up the knife and fork, cutting into the steak. Her eyes are glued to the plate—out of hunger or apprehension now that I’m holding a knife? Who’s to say?
“That makes two of us.”
“Normally, I’m in better control of myself.” I lift the fork, meat speared on the tines, and direct it to her mouth. “Don’t be stupid. Eat.”
She rolls her eyes—but opens her mouth, too, and accepts the offering. “Mm,” she moans, eyes closing, a look of sheer pleasure washing over her gorgeous face. I can’t help but imagine making her do that with my tongue, instead. And I plan to.
But first, the matter of bringing her to heel. It was one thing when keeping her here meant threatening her into obeying. It’s clear she has her own ideas and won’t be easily managed. How a loser like Greg Harmon managed to keep her under his thumb is a bigger mystery all the time.
“See? Look at what you might’ve missed out on.” I get to work on the potato, mashing some of the fluffy flesh with a pat of butter. “All because you’re stubborn.”
“Stubborn? No. I’m pissed off and hurt and confused.”
At least she’s being honest. “I can identify with that.”
“Oh, please.”
“Fine. Believe me if you want. Don’t believe me if it suits you. No difference.” I direct potato toward her mouth this time. She purses her lips and blows on it before reluctantly accepting.
“How is it so good?” she whispers, licking her lips after she swallows.
“They say music is a universal language. I think good food qualifies, too. It’s probably my Italian blood.”
“I can’t remember the last time I had a really good meal before coming here,” she admits. I can only imagine.
“Nora has been ruining me for all other cooks since I was a kid. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a better meal than I’ve had here at home.” I shoot her a dirty look while cutting into the asparagus. “You hurt her feelings when you refused her food.”
“It had nothing to do with her.”
“You should apologize.”
“Me? Apologize? For what?”
“For hurting her. She’s a human being.”
“So am I!” She jerks her arms for effect. “But here I am. Tied up.”
“You’re tied up because you wouldn’t behave.”
“I wouldn’t behave because I’m being kept like a prisoner. Because some jerkoff sold me to you. Like I’m property.”
“Fair enough.” I spear the asparagus, sauce dripping from the tip. “But I’m not the person who owes you an apology.”
“Yeah, well, I won’t hold my breath waiting for one from that dipshit.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I ease the vegetable past her parted lips. A drop of sauce hits the corner of her mouth, and her tongue darts out to catch it before I can wipe it away. Hunger stirs deep in my core and my breath catches.
What’s worse, she notices, judging by the quick grin that dissolves when our eyes meet. She knows how sexy she is, the little tease. She probably knows exactly what she’s putting me through, too.
