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“Hey.” She crossed to him, leaving a few feet between them. “Can I help with something?”
He motioned toward the vegetables lying on the counter. “You can make the salad if you’d like.”
Ali nodded and went to stand on the other side of the sink. She picked up the knife. “Do you have a size preference?”
“What?” He coughed. “Oh. Not really. Not too small, though. I like to taste what I’m eating.”
She snorted. “So size does matter.”
Daniel shook his head, his shoulders vibrating, and went back to the chicken he was grilling.
They worked together in companionable silence as they put the finishing touches on dinner. It was simple but delicious. Daniel had made grilled chicken and roasted potatoes to go with the salad she’d put together. He’d also cut up some crusty Italian bread for them. She’d cleaned her plate and polished off three slices of bread.
When she’d popped the last bite of bread in her mouth, she noticed him frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“What did you eat today?” he asked.
The last bit of bread felt heavy going down. She knew that look. She’d been a submissive for long enough to recognize it. “Um.”
“The truth, Allison.”
He’d only called her by her full name once and that was when he’d found out she’d left the club by herself one night without asking Brandon or Cooper to escort her. Since then, he’d stayed until she was ready to leave and walked her out himself.
“I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning.”
The lines on his face deepened. “Why didn’t you eat lunch?”
She lowered her gaze. “I got busy. It was three o’clock before I knew it and I figured I could wait until dinner.”
“Do I need to start bringing you lunch every day?” he asked.
Her eyes widened and she met his gaze. He was serious. “No, I...” She swallowed. “I don’t normally miss lunch. Things were hectic today and I lost track of time. That’s all.”
A grumble sounded from deep in Daniel’s chest and for some reason she felt her sex pulse.
He stood and took their plates to the sink. She had the distinct feeling he wanted to turn her over his knee and not in the fun, let’s get kinky kind of way.
Ali made herself stay seated. She didn’t think he’d welcome her closeness in that moment. “Were you able to find me a place to stay?” she asked instead, figuring the change in subject would be welcome.
His shoulders stiffened. “No. None of my properties are currently available, so you’ll stay here. There’s plenty of room.”
She didn’t miss that he’d saidoneof his properties. “How many properties do you have?” Looking at this house, she knew he had to have money, but she had no idea how much. She’d thought he was a real-estate agent. Did he really make that much money helping people buy and sell houses?
“Fifty-four.” He paused. “At the moment.”
She gasped. “You own fifty-hour houses?”
He rinsed the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. “No. Some are townhouses or commercial buildings. I like to diversify my assets.”
“I see.”
A heavy silence hung in the air. Daniel wiped his hands on a dish towel, then dropped it onto the counter. “Does the fact I have resources bother you?”
Did it bother her? A little. The last man she’d dated managed a grocery store. He made decent money. Good money, she thought. But nothing like...this.
Not that she and Daniel were dating. They weren’t. No matter how much she wished otherwise.
“I’m just surprised. You don’t act like you’re rich,” she said.
