35
Karma
"This is where we’re having dinner," he murmurs as he lowers me into a chair. I take in the crisp white table cloth that covers a table that has been set with silverware for two. The alcove is sheltered from the breeze by a screen on one side. The view itself is undisturbed though, and I glance out at the sea that stretches out into the distance. A cool breeze tugs at my hair. I tuck the strands behind my ear, turn back to the table arrangement. There’s a vase in the center of the table with one single perfectly formed black rose, the edges of the petals a blood red. It’s a perfect bloom, unlike anything I have ever seen. He reaches for a blanket that has been placed on a stool by the side. He places it over my lap, then tucks it at the sides.
"How does that feel?"
"Good," I murmur.
"Not too cold? Not too warm?" He nods toward the patio heater, "Should I turn that off?"
"No," I pat the edge of the blanket, "I am comfortable, as is."
"Good." He reaches for a napkin, shakes it out, then places it on my lap over the blanket, before pushing my chair in, just so. Then he walks around to take his seat on the other side.
"What’s all this about?"
"Can’t I have dinner with my wife?"
"Hmm," I frown, "not that I don’t appreciate it, but if you want to take me to dinner, why can’t we go out?"
He tilts his head, and I scowl. "You don’t want to take me out, is that it?"
He gazes at me steadily and I blow out a breath, "Since you found out I was pregnant you haven’t let me out of the house. In fact, you’ve barely let me out of your sight, and it’s really beginning to grate on my nerves."
He merely reaches for the jug of water and pours out a glass. "Drink," he orders, "you need to make sure that you are hydrated."
I open my mouth to refuse and he gives me a stern look. "Drink your water, baby," he winks at me, and bloody hell, when he calls me by that endearment, my heart seems to melt. I can’t refuse him anything when he looks at me with that mix of dominance and lust and tenderness all entwined in the depths of those hypnotic blue eyes. I raise the glass of water, sip from it, and his gaze falls to my mouth. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. I lick my lips, scooping up a drop of water from the corner of my mouth, and his throat moves as he swallows. His chest rises and falls, he leans forward, reaches for me, when the sound of footsteps approaches.
Momentarily distracted, we look toward Cassandra, who makes her way over to us to place a basket of bread between us. "The chef will be along shortly with your main courses. Enjoy." She glances between us, then backs away without another word.
Steam rises from the bread. Whoa, have they been freshly baked? I mean, of course, they have to be freshly baked. Nothing but the best for Michael, after all. I reach for a roll, then gasp and pull back, "Ouch, it’s too hot."
"Here, let me." He reaches for a roll, breaks off a piece. Steam rises from it as he offers me a bite-sized piece.
I glance at the piece of roll then back at him, "It may be too hot."
"It’s not."
"What if it is?" I frown.
"And here I thought you trusted me, hmm?"
Well, he does have a point there. I open my mouth and he pops the piece of bread inside. I chew on it, and the strong, tangy, yeasty flavor of the freshly baked roll explodes on my palate. "Oh, yum!" I finish chewing, swallow the piece, then open my mouth again. He pops another piece of bread inside and I chew on that as well. "This is really good," I admit as I swallow it down as well.
He butters the remaining piece, offers it to me and I eat that too. The flavors only seem to multiply, thanks to the butter. "I have never tasted anything like it," I confess.
"The chef is the best in Europe," he confirms to me.
"It’s not what’s-her-name, Marissa, is it?"
"You mean Larissa?" He smirks.
I frown. "Don’t flaunt your floozies in front of your wife," I snap.
He raises his hands. "Scusa," he murmurs, "mi sono sbagliato.I promise, I won’t speak of her again."
“Or see her,” I add, causing him to nod in agreement.Wait a minute. What is he up to?I stare, "You are being awfully conciliatory?"