Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Royal spent the first half of the baking session lounging in the doorway, watching me with a half-lidded eyes. He looked so smug, I had to ask, “These baking things… did you buy them for me? Like the clothes?”
“Yes.”
“It’s too much.”
He sauntered closer and cupped my face, ignoring the flour puffing around us. “Nothing is enough for my wife.”
Then he kissed me and my brain short-circuited. I managed to order him out of the kitchen to give me a few blissful minutes to myself.
Now I’m about to meet Royal’s cousin, and I’m covered in flour. Oh well. I might as well embrace who I am. I can’t be anyone else.
The voices round the hall and a brunette with sleek, straight hair and wearing a black pantsuit walks in, followed by Royal. I feel short and shabby in my sugar-dusted outfit.
Lula is more beautiful in person, dark and striking like Royal. She could be his sister.
“So you’re Leah,” she says, looking me up and down. Her expression is inscrutable, and I don’t know what she’s thinking. “I’m his cousin,” she explains, although I’m sure Royal’s already told her that I know who she is. “Royal has a lot of cousins.” The two of them exchange a look, and I can’t tell if there’s some secret meaning there, or an old joke.
“Okay,” I say, trying not to sound as awkward as I feel.
“It’s good to meet you.” She sets down her slim leather briefcase. The Prada stamp is visible on the corner of it. That’s a five thousand dollar briefcase. My brain blue screens.
Lula is offering me her hand. I grab it, my wet fingers sliding against her perfectly manicured ones.
“Oh sorry, I was just washing up.” I get a dish towel and hand it to her. I use too much force and it flies out of my grip and nearly hits her in the face. “Oh my god, I’m sorry!”
“That’s okay.” Her dark eyes twinkle. “She cooks and cleans?” Lula raises a brow at her cousin.
“Only if she wishes.” Royal crosses to my side and takes my left hand. His expression goes scarily blank.
“It’s on the windowsill,” I blurt. “I didn’t want to lose it while washing dishes.” The ring probably costs more than a year of Mr. Rossi’s rent.
Royal collects the ring and takes my hand to slide it firmly onto my finger. “This stays on your finger,” he murmurs. “Understand?”
“Once again, you didn’t ask me,” I tease, fluttering my fingers. The ring feels right on my hand. It’s so pretty. I’m ignoring the little fact that it contains a tracking device—for now.
“Leah,” Royal warns. His thumb strokes over my wrist.
“I understand. No more washing dishes. That’ll be your job.” I bump him with my hip.
“That can be arranged. I’m good at making things clean.” After I make things dirty, his dark gaze adds.
Behind us, Lula clears her throat. I step back from the cocoon of warmth Royal and I created, my cheeks flushed from our flirting.
Lula holds up her phone. “Hey, cuz, Enzo’s trying to reach you.”
Royal pulls his own phone out of his pocket. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll stay and get to know Leah,” Lula says.
Royal runs a finger over my breastbone, swiping up sugar. He holds my gaze as he licks his finger. “Sweet.”
I shiver.
“Be good,” he warns, and stalks from the kitchen.
“Well, well.” Lula fans herself. “That was unexpected.” There’s a real smile on her face. My heartrate slows. Somewhat. A little bit.
She leans on the marble island. “I’ve never known him to be so romantic.”
“Really?” I wrinkle my nose, even though internally, I'm freaking out. “He’s the most romantic guy I know.”
“Maybe with you.”
I don’t know how to handle that, so I grab a drying pan and wipe it down with a dishrag.
“How did you two meet?” Lula asks.
“I served him coffee. Um, a few days ago.”
The oven buzzer sounds and I busy myself taking out the trays and setting out the muffins on racks to cool. Lula watches with narrowed eyes. Is she judging me? Or is she just thinking?
I set a muffin on a small plate. The chocolate and dried cranberry mixture turned out well. “Do you want one?”
“Absolutely.” She wastes no time tearing off the paper liner and breaking the muffin open, cooing at the delicious steam. “This is amazing. I didn’t know Royal had anything other than takeout menus in this kitchen.”
“He said he bought the stuff for me.” Of course he did. He’s not the type to have muffin tins lying around.
“Oh my god, that’s good,” Lula moans. “No wonder Royal wants to marry you.”
“You know about that?”
“It’s kind of obvious.” She nods to the giant diamond on my finger. “That, and the way he looks at you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone.”
“Really?” I lean on the island, picking at my own muffin, hungry for nothing but details about Royal. “I’d think women would be all over him.”