Page 36
When I finally wake up, it’s already quite late, and I’m alone in bed again.
I find him in the kitchen, preparing food for the both of us.
“Something smells amazing.”
“Hello to you, too.” He smiles at me, taking the pasta out of the pan. “I hope you’re hungry now.”
“Oh, trust me. I managed to work up quite the appetite.”
He cooks, knows how to keep a conversation, and looks like a greek god.
I'm beginning to wonder what the catch is that a man like Enzo is still on the market.
"We need to keep you well fed." He laughs as he watches me gobble down the remains of my pasta. "Keep your energy levels up."
A blush forms on my cheeks at the reminder of what happened, and he kisses the top of my head.
"This is unbelievably good, but next time, you're letting me cook for you."
I know that I'm treading on thin ice here. We haven't yet talked about what any of this means, let alone if there's going to be a next time.
But he brings out a particular boldness out of me.
"There will be no need for that. You don't have to do anything when I'm around."
His words have a hint of possessiveness to them. As though I already belong to him.
"Demanding, are we?"
"They don't call me boss for no reason." He laughs.
"Well, let me feed you a bite, then, Boss."
I fork up some of the pasta and bring it to his mouth.
We're sitting by the large window that opens into the patio, and I take a moment to drink in the gorgeous view.
For a moment, it almost feels like we are a couple already. Lazily feeding each other, recuperating energy after a particularly... busy night together.
He looks at me with an expression I can't yet place, and I wonder if he's thinking the same thing.
"I'll drive you back to your hotel." He glances down at my clothes.
I 'borrowed' one of his shirts from the closet this morning, knowing that my own dress is in no state.
"For you to freshen up."
"Right, of course."
I've almost forgotten that I still have work to do here. The lines between business and pleasure have never been so blurred before.
On the drive back to the hotel, he doesn't let go of my hand. And right before I leave, he gently cups my face and places a chaste kiss on my lips.
I deepen it, tracing my tongue with his.
"Quinn," he groans.
"What?" I bat my eyelashes.
I find him in the kitchen, preparing food for the both of us.
“Something smells amazing.”
“Hello to you, too.” He smiles at me, taking the pasta out of the pan. “I hope you’re hungry now.”
“Oh, trust me. I managed to work up quite the appetite.”
He cooks, knows how to keep a conversation, and looks like a greek god.
I'm beginning to wonder what the catch is that a man like Enzo is still on the market.
"We need to keep you well fed." He laughs as he watches me gobble down the remains of my pasta. "Keep your energy levels up."
A blush forms on my cheeks at the reminder of what happened, and he kisses the top of my head.
"This is unbelievably good, but next time, you're letting me cook for you."
I know that I'm treading on thin ice here. We haven't yet talked about what any of this means, let alone if there's going to be a next time.
But he brings out a particular boldness out of me.
"There will be no need for that. You don't have to do anything when I'm around."
His words have a hint of possessiveness to them. As though I already belong to him.
"Demanding, are we?"
"They don't call me boss for no reason." He laughs.
"Well, let me feed you a bite, then, Boss."
I fork up some of the pasta and bring it to his mouth.
We're sitting by the large window that opens into the patio, and I take a moment to drink in the gorgeous view.
For a moment, it almost feels like we are a couple already. Lazily feeding each other, recuperating energy after a particularly... busy night together.
He looks at me with an expression I can't yet place, and I wonder if he's thinking the same thing.
"I'll drive you back to your hotel." He glances down at my clothes.
I 'borrowed' one of his shirts from the closet this morning, knowing that my own dress is in no state.
"For you to freshen up."
"Right, of course."
I've almost forgotten that I still have work to do here. The lines between business and pleasure have never been so blurred before.
On the drive back to the hotel, he doesn't let go of my hand. And right before I leave, he gently cups my face and places a chaste kiss on my lips.
I deepen it, tracing my tongue with his.
"Quinn," he groans.
"What?" I bat my eyelashes.
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