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"I was asked to come and cook my favorite dishes for you," he nods his chin toward the plates.
"So, you left your restaurant and came over to cook dinner for us?"
He jerks his chin toward Michael, "What the Capo wants, the Capo gets."
Of course, he does.
I shoot a sideways glance at Michael. "There was no need to have Paolo shut down his restaurant and come here to cook for us. We could have gone to him."
"And you know my thoughts on that already." Michael tilts his head. His gaze clashes with mine and those blue eyes of his—damn! It’s like they can see my deepest thoughts, suss out my innermost fears. Like they are aware that underneath all the protests, I am secretly flattered that he did this for me. My cheeks heat and his smirk widens. Gah, can I not even glance at him without getting turned on?
I flip my hair over my shoulder, turn to Paolo, "Well, I, for one, don’t take your coming here for granted. I hope the Capo, at least, compensated you for the lost business."
He laughs, "He did, and even if he hadn’t, I promise you, it would have been my honor and my pleasure to cook for the both of you. Someone in your state needs to eat well, signora, and I have made sure that my dish is perfectly balanced, with all the nutrients you and your growing child need.
"Oh," heat sears my cheeks. Guess I am still not used to the fact that I am pregnant, especially not when someone else mentions it to me.
"I told him; I hope you don’t mind?" Mika whispers. "He’s like family."
"It’s fine, "I murmur, then turn to Paolo again. "Thank you for coming out to cook for us." I hold out my hand and he takes it, then kisses it on the knuckles, before stepping back.
He glances at the food, then at Michael, "You need to eat the food before it grows cold."
"Oh, we will." Michael gestures to the plates, "Could you place her plate in front of me before you leave? I plan to feed her."
Paolo moves the plate over so it’s front of us, then he retreats.
I turn to protest and Michael shakes his head. "Indulge me, Beauty," he implores in a soft voice and my heart stutters. It bloody stutters.
This man... All he has to do is glance at me with tenderness and I’ll throw myself down at his feet and be ready to do his every bidding. Oh, who am I kidding? When he orders me, it turns me on even more. But there’s something about Mika being so attentive to my wishes which is simply…completely…arousing, and which also makes me giddy with happiness.
My heart begins to thud in my chest and my pulse rate ratchets up. OMG, the way he’s looking at me… It’s as if he loves me, and like he’s beginning to realize it himself.
"Beauty, I…" he searches my features, then hesitates, "I…"
"What is it?" I whisper, "Tell me, Mika, what do you want to say?"
He seems to get a hold of himself, then reaches past me for the fork. He twirls some of the pasta, then offers it to me, "I think you need to eat."
"But—"
"Later," he murmurs, "let’s enjoy our food first, hmm?"
I want to push it, but something in his gaze warns me that it’s time to give in. I nod, allowing him to feed me. The pasta is a simple dish made with vegetables and a sauce that is absolutely flavorful. Mika insists on feeding me, and I tell him he needs to eat as well. We compromise when he agrees that I can feed him too.
When both of our plates are empty, I lean into him with a sigh.
"Now what?" I murmur.
"Cassandra," he calls out, "make sure that we are not disturbed."
Cassandra pops her head through the doorway. She nods, then shuts the door on us.
I turn to him, "What's that all about?"
"That," he smirks, "means it’s time for dessert."
