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CHAPTER41

DINARA

The morning sun’srays hit my eyes, and I groan, throwing the pillowy-soft comforter over my face, unwilling to wake up and face this nightmare. But with a resigned sigh, I drag myself out of bed.

Crap, I don’t even have a toothbrush. Yet when I head to the bathroom, I find everything I need, completely brand new.

I brush my teeth quickly, wash my face, and curse the fact that I don’t have my moisturizer.

My stomach growls, reminding me it’s been a while since I’ve eaten. But the thought of sitting next to that man, pretending we’re a couple, makes my stomach twist into knots.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. I wipe my hands quickly before opening it.

And there he is, looking flawless as always. Hair perfectly styled, white tee, gray sweats riding low on his hips, teasing a glimpse of that V leading to the one place that drives me wild.

Nope. Can’t be thinking that right now, Dinara.

“Good morning, baby. How’d you sleep?”

His smirk settles in my gut, sending a rush of warmth spreading through my body.

“Okay. Your bed is comfortable enough. Are my things here yet? I’d really like to take a shower and get changed.”

I’m not even wearing any panties…

He holds out a hand for mine, but I don’t take it.

He grabs it anyway, pulling me out the door. “Let’s have breakfast. After your things are here, you can take a shower.”

We make it down the stairs, entering an immaculate kitchen with a table already set up with plates and glasses. A woman places pancakes onto a platter.

“Good morning, Mrs. Quinn.” She greets me with a smile, her salt-and-pepper hair tucked neatly in a bun. “I’m Mary.”

I don’t even bother correcting her calling me by that name. We’re supposed to get married in a few days. What difference does it even make?

“It’s nice to meet you.” I extend a hand and she takes it in both of hers. “You’re even more beautiful than Mr. Quinn said.”

My face flushes as I remember the disheveled state I’m in. “You’re too kind, but I look like a mess right now.”

“Oh,” she scoffs, throwing a dismissive hand. “You look great.”

His mouth drops to my ear, his hand squeezing mine. “Just perfect. It’s gonna be hard for me to eat knowing you’re not wearing anything under my shirt.”

I elbow him as she watches us.

“Go ahead and sit, you two lovebirds.”

Lovebirds? I laugh to myself. If she only knew how many different ways I imagined killing him before getting out of bed.

“I’ve made all of Mr. Quinn’s favorites,” she goes on. “But if there’s anything else you’d like, just let me know and I’ll add it to the menu.”

“Anything you make is fine,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Alright, then.” She smiles, setting down strips of bacon and muffins before bringing over pancakes and croissants.

After pouring a pitcher of what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice, she heads out, leaving the air straining with tension. He pulls out a chair and sits, but before I can take mine, he pats his lap.

“This is your seat, leannan.”