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“Wow,” she says, staring at the cupboards. Running her fingers lovingly over the neat rows of flour and sugar, the jars of olives and homegrown tomatoes, olive oil and hard cheeses. When she opens the fridge, she gives a little gasp of wonder. “This is incredible. Whatisthis place, Sergio?”
Why do I love it when she says my name in that clear, soft voice of hers?
“It’s a private club for exclusive guests,” I say, not quite willing to get into the details yet. “We offer the best of the best.”
“I’ll say you do,” she says, twisting the lid off a jar of olive oil. She inhales, her eyes closing as she sighs. “This isheaven.” Glancing at me over her shoulder, she gives me a smile that would light up the entire night sky before she places the jar back down and turns to face me. Hands on her hips, she’s fucking adorable.
“Sergio, I have a proposition for you.”
I’ve never before in my whole life been so tempted to give anyone my entire kingdom.
Ask me for anything, angel. I’ll give you the moon.
I keep my voice gruff. Fold my arms on my chest. I didn’t get into this position of power by losing my shit to a pretty girl. “Yes?”
“You need someone who can cook.Ican cook.”
I could hire a team of chefs within the hour, but she doesn’t need to know that.
I nod, as if I’m thinking this over. As if I’m actually contemplating whatever it is she’s going to say and not trying to chide myself into doing the sensible thing and letting her go.
Because I already know, allowing this woman into my daily life might be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.
“Can you?” I challenge her. “Show me, then.”
Fire fuels her beautiful eyes when she lifts her chin in defiance. “Of course. That’s a reasonable request. I will show you. But if I am a good cook and you need one, would you consider hiring me?”
I want to know everything about her. I scratch my chin as if I’m still thinking. “Do you have working papers?”
I don’t need goddamn working papers. I pay half my staff under the table.
She opens her mouth then closes it again. “I don’t.”
“Hmm.”
I have to pretend this is costing me something, but what I’m really doing is fishing for more information. “So you want me to hire youillegallyafter you’ve broken the law and trespassed on my property, openly disobeyed me, and haven’t even shown me you can cook yet?”
She doesn’t even bat her eyelashes when she holds my gaze and nods. “Yes.”
Fucking adorable.
“You don’t even know what I pay.”
“Those were the most luxurious sheets I’ve ever slept on. Your pans must cost a small fortune. I can’t imagine you’d offer a premium product for your clients without paying a premium salary to your staff. So no, I don’t know how much you pay, but I need a job, I need it now, and I’d be willing to bet you’ll pay me a fair wage.”
I’d pay her to sit at my feet and fold her hands in her lap. She wouldn’t have to do anything sexual. I’d just want to occasionally run my fingers through her long, golden hair. Rest my hand on the small of her back. Hear her say, “Yes, sir,” in that plaintive, beautiful voice of hers…
“I’ll think about it,” I lie. “Show me what you can cook, and then we’ll talk.”
“How hungry are you?”
The innocent look she gives me stirs a hunger of a different sort.
“Starving,” I say hoarsely, hoping she doesn’t realize I’m not talking about feeding my belly.
“Excellent,” she says with triumph.
I sit back in the chair and watch Eden, a married woman who’s way too young for me yet the most compelling woman I’ve ever met… cook me the best damn breakfast I’ve ever had.
