He slid the steaming mug across and got himself another. “How did you sleep?”
She smiled. “Very well, thank you.” Almost too well.
She eyed the pile of food on the table. He seemed so energized and light-hearted. She took a sip of the coffee. Not as rich as a frappuccino, but definitely gourmet. Needed a little sugar, but… She sighed. No point in dwelling on what she couldn’t have.
“Good?” Ethan asked.
“Mm.” She pulled her tablet from the purse she’d left on one of the stools by the counter. This was a familiar routine—checking the market while enjoying her coffee and what other minor morning vices she could come up with.
He gently took the gadget from her hand. “No work before brekky, as they say in the UK.”
She looked at him sourly. “I wasn’t working.”
He glanced at the screen. “Hmm. Market data. Market analysis. Market news. Looks like work to me.”
“It’s not.”
“Kerri. When a woman who screamed my name five times the night before ignores me at breakfast and hides behind a gadget, it’s kind of irritating.”
She opened her mouth and then shut it again. There was no arguing with that, and most likely his family didn’t allow anybody to stare at mobile devices at the table either. Hers hadn’t cared what she did as long as she made herself invisible.
He placed a full plate in front of her. “Thank you. So. You seem to be adjusting well to the time difference.”
“It’s not that bad. I don’t really have a consistent sleeping pattern.” She eyed the eggs. “Are these real?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t eat fake eggs.”
“I mean…are they low-calorie, low-fat substitute?”
“Absolutely not. Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said automatically.
“You don’t like eggs?”
“I prefer low-fat yogurt for breakfast.” If she said that about a hundred times, it might actually become true. Then she added, “And fresh fruit.”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re one of those ‘salad and water’ types.”
“Beg pardon?”
“I have it on good authority that you, in fact, love bacon and eggs. And sausage. Not to mention bagels laden with full-fat cream cheese.”
Damn it. Natalie had obviously ratted her out. “Well, yeah, okay…but I’m watching my cholesterol,” she said finally. Her chest felt tight, like she was speaking of something that ought to be kept secret.
“I don’t have any yogurt at the moment, but I can pick some up. In the meantime, a couple of eggs won’t kill you. As for the bacon and sausages, don’t worry. I’ll be happy to eat them for you.”
“Okay.” She sat at the table. It was nothing compared to the kind of heart-killing stuff she used to shovel into her mouth in Hong Kong.
Totally unfair. If she had to have a crappy liver, she should at least have titanium arteries that never got clogged.
He sat next to her rather than across the table as she expected. His big body made her feel a little crowded despite the spacious kitchen and dining area. Or maybe it was just his presence that loomed, filling every empty space with that inviting heat that was uniquely his. It promised, “Lean on me, depend on me, and know I’ll keep you safe.” She knew it was just an illusion that she wanted to believe. No matter how independent she strived to be, there were times when she wanted to close her eyes and rest her head against a broad, strong shoulder, attached to an even broader and stronger man who would fight the world for her.
“So since it’s Sunday, what are your plans?” she asked, tasting the eggs. “Another business meeting while you order me not to work?”
“Nope. I’m going to see my mom.”
“Do you see her often?”