He selected one for me, lifting the fork and holding it in front of his face. He was so intense, the same slight smirk crowding the corner of his lips. If this was about seduction, I couldn’t deny he knew what he was doing.
“Blow, sweet angel. It’ll be hot and this isn’t the way I want to burn you.”
Swallowing, I leaned forward, following his instructions. When I parted my lips, he seemed to take an exorbitantly long period of time before moving the fork closer. When he rubbed the shrimp across my lips, the breath caught in my throat.
“Take a bite and be honest.”
His voice was hypnotic, provocative. As I bit down on the end, juice rushed into my mouth, the aroma of garlic and herbs infusing my nostrils. The bite was succulent, several fabulous tastes exploding against my throat. I greedily finished with a second bite, laughing as juice slipped past my lips.
As if in slow motion, he eased the fork to the counter, wiping the tip of his index finger through the juice then bringing it to his mouth. I bit my inner cheek as I watched his eyes half close, the expression on his face changing to something completely carnivorous.
“Delicious,” I said without thinking.
When he leaned forward, dragging his tongue across my lips, I was stunned, fisting my hand to keep from touching him.
“Yes. Delicious.” Even the way he elongated the words was sexy as hell. His smile returned and he winked before becoming absorbed in finishing the preparations.
Exhaling, I stood back, admiring the kitchen. Then I noticed what appeared to be blood on one of the walls. There was no mistaking the color, several spots still bright red. I’d heard a man’s agonizing wail only seconds after walking into the bakery side. I found myself drawn to the few strings that remained, crisscrossing in a damning pattern. A lump formed in my throat, and I feared my body was visibly shaking.
He seemed to notice my hard gaze, taking several deep breaths. “In my business, Cassidy, sometimes there is a need to handle a difficult situation in ways that you would likely find reprehensible, but it’s necessary in order to keep the peace.”
I shot him a look, studying his features. His jaw was clenched, but he continued the preparations as if this was normal. Nothing about this was normal. “Who are you, Valentin?”
“A brutal man, but not at this moment.” As he dished up two plates, he seemed relaxed, used to the violent world he lived in. He dumped the water then moved toward me, untying his apron and tossing it into a hamper. “I hope you’ll enjoy what I prepared.”
What was I supposed to say? I seemed frozen, incapable of moving. He chuckled darkly and closed the distance, reaching around me and pulling the knot on the apron. Vibrations danced along every muscle, the jolts of current even more exaggerated. After pulling it over my head and pitching it away, he lifted my chin with a single finger.
“I assure you that you’re safe with me.”
He was a dark storm, his eyes sweltering with the intensity of turbulence, smoky and alluring. As he lowered his head, my actions betrayed me. I arched my back, leaning in, longing for him to kiss me. When his lips were only centimeters away, I found my resolve, pulling back. I moved around him quickly, grabbing the two plates.
He laughed softly, twisting his head and watching me. “I’ll select the perfect wine and grab some fresh Romano.”
My legs were stiff as I headed into the dining room, the same brutal thudding of my heart echoing in my ears. I wanted to feel his touch, and I couldn’t understand the reason why.
I wasn’t that kind of girl. I never strayed from the light, but the allure of his darkness was strangely appealing. Just the act of putting the plates on the table, as if we were on an intimate date, was a hard pull on my rational side. However, the scent of garlic and wine, fresh parsley, and the succulent shrimp was incredible.
He wasn’t long, placing two wine goblets on the table, pulling a wine opener from his pocket. As I eased onto the chair, the attraction became so strong I was pulled into a surreal vacuum. It seemed he handled everything with a slight flair, his expertise at opening the wine an indication he’d been brought up surrounded by the finer things in life. While I knew little about his family, what I had learned confirmed the family’s worth was well into the high millions.
Why the restaurant?
Everything about him piqued my curiosity. As he poured two glasses, I tried to act as if this was a normal occurrence, refusing to allow my body to betray me any further. He took the opportunity to grind the chunk of cheese onto my food, glancing at me every few seconds. When he sat down, he took an exorbitant amount of time to unfold his napkin, placing it into his lap. Then he lifted his glass, the slight smile on his face highlighting a single dimple on his chin, a slight two-day stubble covering his chiseled jaw.
And I was drawn into his world, ignoring mine.
“Cassidy Rochester,” he said, his deep baritone sending pulses deep inside my pussy. “Here’s to the beginning of a scintillating evening.” He flashed a wolfish smile, as if he already had it figured out.
His words were a promise of things to come, of carnal activities that would push our boundaries. Images of our naked, heated bodies flowed into my mind, some so vile and filthy they took my breath away.
He was commanding.
Powerful.
Possessive.
And he’d set his sights on ravaging my innocence.