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I shrug. "The photos of you with those women are pretty bad."
"I'm sorry if they have caused you or your father any embarrassment. I've done my best to handle the situation."
I arch a brow. "You're apologizing?" My father likes Ivan but has consistently described him as a reckless playboy and a bit too selfish for his own good.
"People change."
"Not really."
He cocks his head to the side. "Why do you say that?"
"Change is hard, and most people aren’t committed enough to do it."
"Hmmm." He places the wooden spoon in the stainless-steel sink. "When I want to do something, I do. I didn't want to be a stereotypical trust fund kid, and I'm not. I wanted to start a successful business, and I did." He levels me with a confident, determined look. "And when I want something, I go after it."
Passion. His eyes have so much passion that I feel I might faint from the heat of his gaze.
He crooks a finger at me. "Come here and see what I'm cooking."
The burners on the stove are filled with bubbling sauces and a sizzling pan of shrimp. I take a step closer, and the scent of garlic, butter, and fresh herbs wafts through the air. The smell triggers my appetite, and I feel my stomach rumble with hunger.
I can feel Ivan's eyes on me as he watches me take in the freshly cooked food before me.
"It smells delicious. What's it called?" I ask.
"I call it Shrimp Aglio e Olio," he describes.
I take in the sight of the food before me, savoring each detail; The deep red peppers are diced finely and added to small cubes of tomatoes that have been sautéed with garlic and olive oil.
The shrimp are pink and juicy, bathed in butter sauce, crushed red pepper, garlic, lemon juice, and Parmesan cheese. The aroma is heavenly.
"Everything will be finished shortly." He stirs the sauces and checks on the shrimp.
I look at him in amazement. "Wow. You really can cook."
He laughs.
"I expected a can of clam chowder and some burnt rolls. But this is amazing."
He winks and smiles. "I'm full of surprises."
"Where did you learn to cook?"
"My mother. She's a five-star chef, and she taught me everything."
I can't believe Ivan is so talented in the kitchen. He has a playboy reputation and grew up wealthy, but it seems he has more to him than that.
Just then, the timer beeps, and Ivan turns off the heat on the stovetop. "Dinner is served."
As Ivan plates the food, I can't take my eyes off him. He looks just about as delicious as the food that I drool a little bit.
Ivan holds out my chair as I sit. His fingers brush across my shoulder as he approaches his seat. I squeeze my thighs together as a ripple of desire hits me.
I take a bite of the shrimp, and it's heavenly. "This is amazing," I say, savoring every bite.
"Glad you like it." He takes a sip of his red wine and smiles at me.
And at that moment, I can feel my heart start to flutter. I'm drawn to him and don't know how to stop it. But he's forbidden. He's off limits, no matter how much my body craves his touch.
