Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“He didn’t think about it at all.” I kept my attention on beating the eggs. “He wasn’t in the picture.”
“Oh. I didn’t know. Sorry, that was an insensitive question.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured her in a familiar rote tone. “It’s a good thing that he wasn’t around.”
It would have been better if no men had been around at all.
I shook off the dark line of thinking before I got caught up in an old cycle of rage and guilt. If Sofia was distraught after only a peek at the ugly truth about human nature, she’d be deeply disturbed by my mother’s life story.
“But it was hard on my mom raising a kid on her own,” I continued, trying to sound casually conversational. “She didn’t exactly arrive in the States legally, and she barely spoke any English when she got to California. She risked everything to give me a good life, so I’ve always done everything I can to make her life easier. When I was little, that meant helping with cooking and cleaning.”
“You clean this big house too?” Sofia asked, incredulous.
Her shock at the prospect of me doing chores allayed my sour mood. I’d come from nothing, but now that I worked for Adrián, I had more than I could possibly ever need. I’d been raised in poverty, and it was an undeniable stroke to my ego that Sofia couldn’t discern that fact immediately.
Her father—like many others in our organization—considered me barbaric, at best. Their fear of my lack of civility served my purposes in protecting Adrián; no one harbored any illusions that I possessed a shred of gentlemanly restraint.
Sofia didn’t seem to understand this about me. Perhaps it hadn’t even occurred to her to feel disdain for my background.
The ghost of a smile flitted around my mouth as I poured the beaten eggs into the hot pan. “No, I have a housekeeping service. I wouldn’t have the time to keep this place spotless, even if I wanted to. I enjoy cooking, but I’m happy to hire someone to clean. If you think cooking is boring, imagine spending your free time mopping and vacuuming four thousand square feet.”
“Wow. Daddy hired a maid just to clean my apartment once a week.” She sighed. “I’ve never really thought about it before, but I guess I’ve been pretty spoiled. No wonder I can barely operate a toaster.”
“What do you usually do for your meals, then?” It felt a little odd having such an inane conversation, but I suddenly found that I was just as curious about Sofia as she was about me. “Surely, you don’t have a chef come to your apartment.”
“I mostly eat on campus or go out to dinner with friends. God, I feel so useless sitting over here watching you cook for me. I would offer to help, but I’d probably ruin whatever you’re doing.”
I chuckled. It was strange to hear the sound fill my kitchen. “It’s just scrambled eggs and bacon,” I reassured her. “They’re hard to ruin. Come here. I’ll show you.”
“I don’t want to mess it up.” Despite voicing her concern, she hopped off the stool where she’d been sitting and skirted around the kitchen island to join me by the stove.
“You can’t possibly mess it up,” I promised, trying to keep my gaze focused on her face.
She shot me a wry smile, seemingly unaware of my struggle not to devour her with my eyes. “I think you’re overestimating my capabilities.”
“I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing anything you put your mind to.” Her cheeks flushed before I added, “And you don’t have to handle the pan unless you want to. I’m going to teach you how to scramble an egg. Watch and learn.”
She peeked around me and sniffed delicately. “Is it supposed to smell like that?”
I bit out a curse. I’d been so distracted by her that I’d forgotten about the eggs. I hastily lifted them off the heat and scraped the charred mess off the pan.
She giggled. “Are you sure you should be offering me cooking lessons?”
“Hmmm,” I mused. “Maybe not. But only because you’re too distracting, not because I’m a bad cook.”
“Oh. If I’m distracting you, I can sit down again and give you space.” Her smile faltered slightly as she made the offer. It seemed she’d missed the lust in my words entirely. She thought she was inconveniencing me, not making my brain go stupid because of the intoxicating sound of her laughter.
My hand shot out to prevent her from pulling away. “Stay right here.” I hadn’t intended to sound so commanding.
She froze, her gaze fixing on my fingers where they encircled her slender wrist. Without thinking, I rubbed my thumb across the delicate veins at the base of her palm. Her plump lips parted slightly, and her eyes lifted to mine. They were dark with unmistakable desire, her pupils dilated.