He fastidiously prepared a fresh fruit salad. His narrow waist and broad shoulders were moulded into a neat black tee under the apron. His gorgeous russet hair was pulled back in a knotted bun at his nape.
Hearing her enter, he looked over his shoulder. “Your breakfast will be ready in a sec, Ms. Craig.”
“Please, call me Lana,” she replied, brushing off the formalities of having a personal chef. “Do you prepare all Marcus’s meals?” The concept was alien to her.
“Mostly, but he’s a great cook, too,” he answered, layering an oval platter with sliced kiwi. “I mainly cook for him in his other properties, like when he is working or partying. He likes to be alone when he comes here, the cleaners arrive the minute he leaves. They’re never here when he is.”
Butterflies danced in her stomach. The sheer mention of him partying and the thought of him being with three women at once like the photo from Marbella stabbed her with reality.
When Marcus carried her to bed last night, something changed in his eyes. She felt a profound shift, a feeling of complete togetherness.
It felt like they had made love, slow and sensual, their eyes locked and their lips clinging to the others, not wanting to let go.
Yet doubt shrouded her hopeful thoughts. No doubt Marcus fooled all the other women he fucked, too. Luring them into a false sense of security before hacking them off from his life-giving artery.
“Does he party much?” Her fingertips reached for the note with her name on it.
Freddy turned to face her, pouting his lips. “He’s the best boss I’ve ever had, so it’s probably a good idea if I don’t get into too much detail, but, yeah, the guy likes to party hard.”
Climbing onto the tall stool, facing Freddy, she tapped the unopened note. “I wasn’t prying. It’s just…” Her voice wobbled.
His palms flung up. “Oh, stop the bus! You love him?” he gasped. “I just knew it. Marcus never brings women back here—like, I mean, never! This place is his private getaway from everything and everyone.”
Her pupils grew and she sucked her lip. “Really? He’s never brought a woman here before?”
Freddy ran his long fingers along his cleft chin, looking left in thought. “No! Not during my time of employment. It’s only ever me, his dad or the gorgeous Jamie. I’ve worked for Marcus for over five years now.”
She flipped open the page to find Marcus’s handwriting.
I have business in the city. Sorry to leave without waking you first. You’re beautiful when you’re sleeping. I’ll be back soon. Promise me you’ll still be there, naked and wet.
Marcus
“Marcus wasn’t sure what you wanted to eat so he told me to make everything. I’ve made all this for you, Lana. I hope there’s something here you’ll enjoy?”
Her gaze lifted to watch Freddy wave his arm theatrically across the selection of glorious tropical fruits, various hard and soft cheeses and cold cuts, from salami to smoked salmon.
A rack of warm, stacked waffles were artistically drizzled in maple syrup. A carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice was positioned beside a copper-rimmed cafetière filled to the brim with dark aromatic coffee.
“Oh, Freddy, it all looks yummy, thank you. You didn’t need to go to all that trouble.” She beamed, her fingers clutching the page. “I feel bad that you were called out at short notice. I can sort myself out if you had plans for today.”
His mouth widened to a cheeky grin, baring bright white teeth. “Thank you, Lana, but this is my job.” His left shoulder shrugged casually, and his head tilted a fraction to meet it. “I could think of worse ways to spend the day. Now, would you like a mimosa?” He tapped his cheek with his index finger and raised his brows.
Her forehead wrinkled. “Mimosa?”
Clanking glasses in a low-level cupboard, he peered over the counter with rakish golden-brown eyes. “OJ and champers. A little early morning indulgence. As long as you aren’t planning to drive anywhere? Marcus would kill me.”
The mobile phone buzzed in her pocket and when she slid it free, Rory’s face was on the screen.
Why won’t he just leave me alone?
She declined the call.
“Something up?” Freddy stood tall with a wide rimmed champagne coupe.
“Just my ex. He’s been phoning all morning. I should take his call and talk it over with him rationally, but I want to enjoy my breakfast before I start that conversation.”
“Do you want to get back with him?” Freddy widened his eyes and pressed his hands to his hips.