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He waved a hand dismissively at me. “Don’t worry. I have a file on everyone I meet.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, why should it?” Damyr cocked his head, and looked me with a curious expression.

Maybe this guy did have some psychopathic tendencies if he couldn’t get sarcasm. A shiver ran through me at the thought. Was I about to have dinner with a psychopath?

“Never mind,” I mumbled and looked for a change of subject. “How come you have a top notch kitchen if you don’t use it?”

“I have a chef,” Damyr replied with a shrug. “He likes to use it. Besides, he cooks for the whole family and I can’t be bothered with that.”

I sniffed the air again, dragging the scents of tomatoes and herbs deep into my lungs. “What are you making?”

“One of my favourites.”

Okay, so I guess this guy was hard work when he wasn’t interrogating someone. Got it. “And that is…?”

“Penne al’arrabbiata.” He turned to chop some peppers with a precision that was a little unsettling actually.

That was one of my favourites too, but I wasn’t sure I should tell him that. I carried on watching him work until he was plating it up and placing a dish in front of me. He sat on the stool next to me and I noticed he didn’t get any for himself.

“Are you not eating?”

He shook his head. “No, I ate earlier.”

When I was tied to a chair in his basement.

An awkward silence blossomed between us as he looked at the marks on my wrists.

I picked the fork up and let out a little nervous laugh. “This looks good. You didn’t need to go to the trouble of cooking for me. I’d have been happy with a piece of toast.”

Which was pretty normal fare for me. It was rare I got to sit an eat a meal, so I was actually impressed that he’d gone to the trouble for me. It was definitely a big tick in my books. Not that I’d tell him that. I didn’t want to give him a chance of getting on my good side.

“It’s no trouble and I wanted to… um…”

“Apologise?”

“Yes. That.”

I chuckled. “Don’t say sorry often then?”

He straightened his back, and a sneer curled his lips. “I do not need to.”

“I can imagine,” I mumbled before finally taking a bite of the delicious smelling pasta.

Holy moly.

Flavour exploded along my taste buds. Tomatoes and spices and fuck me, that was so good. A guttural moan passed my lips as I swallowed the food.

“Fuck,” Damyr mumbled under his breath.

I shot my eyes over to his and watched the blue darken to a colour as rich and deep as the darkest night. His reached out his hand and swiped his thumb along the corner of my mouth. My pulse skyrocketed.

“You missed a spot,” he rasped before licking the pasta sauce off the tip of his thumb.

I felt that lick of his tongue along the length of my cock.Fuck me.This guy wasn’t playing fair.

His eyes still held mine. Unblinkingly. Like there was a wolf lurking behind the blue and I knew I should be afraid. I mean, he might eat me, but that didn’t make me want to run away. Nope. It was the most thrilling feeling I’d felt in a very long time.