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He looked up and turned his brown gaze toward her. She couldn’t look away. She felt drawn to him in some way. Nothing seemed to make sense.
“You think I’m lying?” he asked.
“I, uh, I don’t know.”
“Lucia, I’m over forty years old. I’ve had a lot of meals in my time, and trust me, this is good. Is it the best thing I have ever tasted, no. Is it the worst thing I ever ate, no.”
Somewhere in between. She could live with that. She smiled at him. “I’ve never cooked before.”
“I gathered.”
“And I baked a cake. Kind of. It looks like a cake, but I skipped a few steps. There’s no eggshell in it, though. Did you know cracking eggs can be hard?” She was not going to tell him she asked Ben, the guard who was taking care of her today, to show her how to crack an egg. That was too embarrassing.
“I look forward to trying it.”
He didn’t have to be so sweet, but she was happy he didn’t seem to mind that she cooked. Back home, she was not allowed near the kitchen as that was for their staff. She was not allowed to do anything. Her life had been so boring.
What’s different here? You do nothing.
Lucia glanced at Boone. Should she ask him? He said he would never hurt her, but what if that had been a lie? She didn’t know much about him, other than he claimed not to be like her father or any of the men under Bonaldi’s ruling. Yet, she knew he had killed people, so how did that make him so different?
He acted so calm that day his car exploded. Like he expected it.
“Ask,” Boone said, making her jump.
“What?”
“You clearly want to ask me something, so ask.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You don’t believe me when I say I am not like your father,” he said.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it, because in a way, it was exactly like that.
He raised a brow.
She took a deep breath and decided she should just go for it. Back home, she was used to being hit, and if he was no different from her father, she might as well learn now.
“Is there something I can do during the day?” she asked. “I’m going out of my mind, just sitting around. I don’t want to watch television, and I’ve read all the books you have. I’m bored, and the only reason I cooked today was to do something with my time. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“What would you like to do?”
His question took her by surprise.
Lucia stared at him. “I ... uh ... I don’t know.” How pitiful was this? She didn’t even know what to do. “Forget it.”
“No, let’s not forget it. What would you like to do?” he asked.
She dropped her head, and then her hair slid in front of her, and she looked at her long, pain-in-the-ass hair. Lifting her head, she turned to look at Boone. “I’d like to get a haircut.”
“Okay. We’ll go tomorrow. I know a good place and they’ll treat you right.”
“You’re going to allow me to get a haircut?”