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“No, they couldn’t,” he said with certainty. “And all that person would get for their trouble is a sore ass.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Did you just threaten to spank me?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Keep misbehaving and we’ll find out.”
“Misbehaving? Misbehaving! I am not misbehaving and even if I was, I’m not yours to spank.”
“While you’re under my roof, you follow my rules. And are subject to my punishments.”
Do not push him into punishing you.
Do. Not.
It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Cat just couldn’t resist pushing and pushing until she found out where his breaking point was.
“Do you think threatening to cut me is behaving yourself?” he asked.
Grr.
He kind of had a point. But he was standing between her and more coffee.
“I’m caffeine-deprived. You try going more than twenty-four hours without caffeine and see how you feel.”
“If you drink your water and juice, then you get more. You can do that while I get your breakfast.”
He stood and reached over to grab her plate.
“Uh, I can do that myself.”
Who knew what the hell he’d put on her plate?
“No, you won’t. You’re light-headed and you have your task. Drink.”
Lord. So bossy.
“What if you put something on my plate that I’m allergic to?” she asked as she tried to look at what food was on the trays.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Um, yeah. Spinach, onions, lettuce, kale, oatmeal, and . . .” Shoot. Why couldn’t she think of anything else? “Brussel sprouts, cabbage, sauerkraut, and cooked carrots. Raw carrots are great. Cooked carrots are just wrong. So wrong. I mean, why would you want to eat orange sludgy stuff?”
She paused to take a breath and a few sips of water because she really couldn’t stay awake much longer without that coffee, only to realize that he was gaping at her.
“What is it? Is there something on my face?” She wiped a hand over her face.
“So you’re allergic to all those things?”
“Um.”
“I’m going to take that as a no. We definitely need to talk about rules.” He proceeded to heap food up on her plate. Luckily, she didn’t spot anything orange.
“I don’t think I should have rules at twenty.”
“Twenty-two,” he said as he carried two plates over.
“Huh?”
“You’re twenty-two, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I forget.” Crap. She was so tired that she was losing track of her lies.
Cat took in the scrambled eggs, hash browns, cooked tomatoes, and mushrooms on her plate.
The mushrooms she could live without but would tolerate.
The cooked tomatoes were an abomination that should be eradicated from the earth.
“What are you curling your nose up at?”
“The tomatoes. It shouldn’t be allowed.”
“What shouldn’t? What’s wrong with them?”
“They’re cooked.” She gave him an incredulous look. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“You don’t like them because they’re cooked,” he drawled.
“No one does. They’re like garnish. People don’t actually eat them.”
“I eat them.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Quite a lot. I want to see most of that gone.” He turned away to fill up his own plate.
She thought about protesting, but she was really hungry.
“Not the mushrooms and tomatoes,” she couldn’t help but bargain as he sat back down.
“Three mushrooms, no tomatoes.”
“All right. Deal.”
She picked up the fork, but she was clumsy with her fingers all bandaged up and the eggs she’d been attempting to eat went everywhere.
“Oh no! I did it again!” She reached for a napkin, trying to clean herself up.
Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she blinked them back. She didn’t usually cry, but these were exceptional circumstances. All she wanted was some darn eggs.
“Pequeña, hush. It’s all right. It is just a bit of spilled food.”
“I wanted to eat it, though,” she wailed.
“There is plenty more food. And if you eat everything on the sideboard, then we’ll cook more.”
“Oh no, there’s no need for that. That would be a waste. You’ll have to wash your robe, though.”
Leaning over, he grasped hold of her chin. “I can assure you, I do not care about the robe, understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered. The feel of his skin against hers was electrifying. She wanted more. Wanted to strip off the robe and his shirt and press herself against him.
Acting crazy, Cat.
He dropped his hold on her chin. “Right, I can see that if I want you to eat and drink something other than coffee, I will have to do it myself.”
Huh? What was he talking about?
Reaching around the table, he grabbed hold of her chair and pulled her so she was next to him. Then he half-turned his own chair before tugging her plate over and forking up some eggs.
It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize what he was doing.
He was going to feed her.
“I can feed myself.”
“No.”
“No?” she repeated.
“No, I’ve decided I prefer to do it.”
“Oh, and you always get your own way?” she said.
“I think you know the answer to that. Now, eat your breakfast.”
