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Without hesitation, I admitted to lying to him. “Yes, I did.”
“I guess you were smart to do that.”
“It was the middle of the night!”
“How about now?” Kaan lets out a chuckle and extends a martini glass towards me, garnished with two olives. “Dirty Martini?”
“Now, it’s cocktail hour.” I take the glass from him and sip, swirling the liquid around in my mouth. My eyes close slowly as I taste the salty goodness. “How did you know I love a dirty martini?”
“A little birdie told me…” I side-eye him as he leans towards me allowing me to bask in the scent of spicy alpha male and sandalwood.
He smells so good. Damn my traitorous nose.
“Nah, I found olive juice in your fridge. No one would drink that stuff voluntarily, so it made sense that you liked your martini’s dirty.”
He smirks, and I find myself watching those perfect lips again. Oh, to have those lips on me right now. I drag my eyes away from his lips and instead glance at his black V-neck where a few dark chest hairs peek through.
And he’s as sexy as sin.
“Well, you’re right.” I push his face away, trying to stop the burn of heat that turns my cheeks into a ruddy blush. Damn blushing, it gives away my thoughts so easily. All my dirty, dirty thoughts. I sip on my dirty martini. “Now what’s cooking, good looking?”
“We’re having a feast.”
Why is he so perfect?
“I didn’t know you can cook!”
“You would be amazed at the things I can do.” He leers at me lasciviously but when I don’t react, he shrugs and turns back to the lettuce he’s ripping apart. “I’ve been on the road for years now, so I had to learn to feed myself. I couldn’t live off dodgy roadside kebabs for days on end. Honestly, it was either learn to cook or have Ada come with me on every single tour.”
“Having your mother travelling with you would have ruined your reputation as a ladies’ man.”
“The boys would’ve killed me.”
The boys?
Oh, Seven of Crows.
One of the biggest rock bands of our time.
And their ex-bass player is cooking me dinner.
I lean over the pot that’s bubbling on my cook-top. “Smells great.”
“It’s red lentil soup.”
“I had lentils?”
“I snuck out while you were in the shower.”
“You what?”
“Calm down. No one saw me. I just went down to the bakery at the end of the street and grabbed some bread, and then across to the market for some lentils and mince.”
“Fuck!”
“And some salad stuff.”
“In other words, you’ve been wandering all around fucking Pimlico, making yourself at home and I’m betting the fucking press are waiting outside as we speak.”
