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Chapter Thirteen
If Sienna had hungeredfor sex earlier, the waft of scented steam from the lasagna as Gray dragged it out of the oven made her forget everything but her need to eat.
Her stomach gurgled as she set stepped into the interconnecting dining room and set the table with cutlery, a jug of water and glasses.
She glanced at him in the kitchen, where he’d placed the tray onto the sink before he began dividing their cheesy dinner in half, then placed the two large chunks onto their respective plates. The cheesy, meaty pasta all but hung over the edges of the plates, and she couldn’t help but smile at their portion sizes. “That is a family sized meal.”
He stalked to the dining table with a plate in each hand. “We need the calories.”
“Then I guess your starvation technique didn’t work on me.”
He ignored her saccharine sweet voice and set their plates down before he pulled a chair out for her. “I guess not,” he replied, waiting for her to sit before he pushed her chair back into position.
When he took his chair opposite she’d already piled a gooey forkful of cheese, meat and pasta into her mouth. She was too hungry to be polite. Her eyes slid closed for a moment as she savored the taste sensation. “This issogood,” she muttered incoherently. Her mouth was too full to talk delicately. She was nothing short of a bulldozer shoving food into her mouth.
Gray chuckled, his yellow eyes alight with amusement. “Are you sure you don’t want my half of the family sized meal?”
She was too famished to blush. Eating her fill was serious business, one she wasn’t going to treat lightly. She scooped up another big mouthful and chewed. “Itisdelicious.”
“You don’t say,” he said in a teasing note, before he slid his plate her way. She stopped chewing, then she swallowed and said, “I don’t want your share.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, his smile infectious and bringing out a dimple on one side of his cheek she’d never noticed before. “It seems like you need it a whole lot more than me.”
She shook her head, her mouth drying. She could so easily fall for his charms. And she’d bet that was exactly what he’d been working toward. “Thanks, but no thanks. You eat it.”
He dragged his plate back. “Have it your way then.”
When he ate just as ravenously as she did, she decided he had been testing her, seeing if his generosity would make her soften toward him. That his charm and his looks were slowly eroding away at her wasn’t something she was willing to admit.
A bounty hunter wouldn’t have a conscience. The moment she told him everything she knew, he’d dispose of her. She’d become excess baggage, an unnecessary burden.
No, she wasn’t falling for his charms.
Gray had scraped up the last of his meal when she still had a few mouthfuls left. He sat back, his hands clasping his stomach and his stare lingering on her. “I won’t need to eat for a week.”
She ate slowly, too full now to appreciate the food, but also aware Gray might decide not to feed her again after this. After all, she had no intention of telling him anything. She’d eat all her dinner even if it half-killed her.
He leaned forward. “What did you mean earlier, about why the Dronians had brought the mothership back into Earth’s atmosphere?”
She put her fork down on her plate, the food now a lump in her stomach. She shrugged, her mind whirling with a hundred different lies. She settled on a half-truth. “Didn’t you notice how quickly the mothership leaves after it drops off the soldiers? It went straight up, presumably outside of Earth’s atmosphere. Probably somewhere no human can spy on them.”
“I don’t believe it,” he said softly. “You answered a question without me having to beg or forcibly get it out of you.”
Her lips tightened even as her pulse fluttered. “Don’t go getting too excited. I’m not going to spill the beans about anything else.” She snorted. “Not that I have the information you need anyway.”
“And yet you’ve given me intel I knew nothing about.”
“I have?”
He nodded. “You’ve all but admitted the mothership rarely enters Earth’s atmosphere. The question is—why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” She managed one last mouthful of the lasagna before she pushed it away. She’d be sick if she wasn’t careful, and it wasn’t just overeating making her feel that way. She wasn’t used to this...subterfuge.
Gray stood and cleared away their dishes, giving the leftovers to Bongo who wolfed down the food like he was still an opportunistic street dog.
She pushed to her feet, her chair scraping back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
