“Well, there went one of the so-called rules,” she muttered.
“Do I even want to know?” he asked.
“I left out never smiling as a requirement along with being a hot, hardheaded badass, but you just blew that rule, so I guess it’s okay to smile occasionally.”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“Now can we go back to the apartment?” he asked in exasperation.
She sent him a disgruntled look. “If I had time, I’d make you shop for another few hours. Just to watch you suffer.”
He tried to choke back his laughter, but it escaped. He liked this woman, and he respected the hell out of her for remaining cool under pressure. It hadn’t escaped him that the day had been an exercise in hell for her. Nor the fact that she was mortified that someone else was paying for her things.
“You’ll do, Evangeline,” he said affectionately. “You’ll do.”
“Well, thank God for that,” she grumbled. “I’d hate to get on the bad side of a hardheaded hot badass.”
He chuckled again and directed the driver to take them to Drake’s apartment. As soon as he issued the order, the lighthearted mood was over and Evangeline became quiet and brooding. And rigid as hell. The entire ride to Drake’s apartment, she looked like someone going to her execution.
Drake’s car pulled into the alleyway of his apartment building, adjacent to the side entrance, and he quickly got out and strode inside. As he rode the elevator up, he loosened the neck of his buttoned-up shirt and divested himself of his suit coat, throwing it over one arm.
He realized he was restless. He’d been that way all day since leaving Evangeline in his bed this morning. There was an edginess to him that defied explanation. An urge to cement his relationship with Evangeline and outline his expectations so there would be no question of his intentions.
Tonight he would have her. But first, they’d have the discussion that had been brewing in his mind all day, followed by a casual, relaxed dinner, which would give her time to digest all he would say to her. And then he would take her, possess her. He would show her to whom she belonged now.
Fierce satisfaction gripped him, and he realized he hadn’t anticipated the company of a woman so much in his life. For that matter, for the first time ever, he wasn’t already deciding how long his affair would last. He never began an affair without knowing when it would end, and yet he hadn’t even considered anything beyond securing Evangeline and making sure she didn’t go anywhere for a damn long time.
Hell, was he contemplating an actual relationship as opposed to a quick fuck or a fling? Maybe he was losing his goddamn mind. He was certain his men thought so. And maybe he was, because his world had tilted on its axis the moment he’d seen Evangeline walk into his club, and nothing had been the same since.
When the elevator opened, he stepped into his apartment and immediately swung his head toward the kitchen, frowning. A delicious aroma wafted through his nostrils. He checked his watch, certain he wasn’t mistaken on the time. He’d left his office so he would arrive sharply at six, as he’d informed Justice. Surely the delivery service wouldn’t have made such a mistake and delivered the food before the requested time.
He had the entire evening meticulously planned, and he didn’t like interruptions or unexpected twists.
He tossed his suit coat over the coat hanger by the elevator and walked into the kitchen only to pull up abruptly when he saw Evangeline at his stove manning four different skillets. He was a blunt man and not prone to putting much thought into how things were worded. Not when his words were sufficient to get results.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
Evangeline jumped, nearly dropping the spatula she held. She turned her head in his direction, her eyes huge in her face as she gazed anxiously at him. Clear confusion was reflected in her vivid blue eyes, and then she cast him a puzzled look that suggested he was in error for asking what she was doing.
“Justice told me you would be here at six, for me not to dress, and that we were having dinner in. I assumed that meant you wanted me to cook. He did say we were eating in,” she repeated, as though reassuring herself she hadn’t misunderstood what Justice had told her.
There was a tremble to her voice and Drake sighed, realizing how it could well have been misconstrued on her part. The edge of fear and uncertainty in her eyes made his response instinctively gentle. He didn’t want to start the evening out on a bad note. Not when so much was riding on it.
“I have no intention of turning you into a domestic slave, nor do I expect you to cook for me. I have a delivery service that brings in the finest meals when I want to eat in. They come in, set the table, and quietly make an exit. I had a delivery scheduled for seven. I had planned for us to talk before we ate.”