Page 19 of A Billionaire for Christmas

She did indeed want to be childish about it.

She leaned across, ignoring him, to retrieve the bagels that had just popped up in the toaster, and carried on whisking, blanching the spinach, and in a whirl, she laid out a plate, tossed on the bagels, buttered them lightly, took out the poached eggs, laid them carefully on top, drizzled the sauce, seasoned them with black pepper and garnished them with shavings of parmesan, a sprinkle of toasted flax seeds and a pinch of the French-farmed sea salt she never went anywhere without.

It was her secret weapon. The eggs smelled and looked amazing.

The spinach, twirled into a nest underneath, added colour and texture.

It had taken her under five minutes. Levi glared at her, his bread now burning in the toaster and his box of eggs yet to be cracked.

‘Shame you were in such a hurry to dismiss me,’ she said brightly as she carried them away. ‘I mean, how hard can it be, right?’

* * *

Stomping back to her room, Molly scraped the eggs into the bin.

Stubbornness had made her not give them to Levi, but anger had stolen her appetite.

Now that the rest of the family were no longer going to arrive today, she suddenly had an entire day to fill.

Plopping down on her bed, she took out Ava’s bucket list journal.

There was no way that Levi was getting his hands on her restaurant.

She had to find a way to save Le Petit Ange or Ava would come back from the grave and haunt her forever.

She stroked the smooth cover and with a wistful sigh flicked through the pages of Ava’s writing, the photos of her walking on stilts, petting an elephant in Thailand, dancing in the rain during a typhoon.

Molly picked up a pen and began filling in the blank pages with dates, times and her thoughts on the three challenges she had been able to tick off.

The priceless camel, the wedding, the naked sauna.

Excruciating. Nine more left and five days to complete them.

After she made sure that Levi was not hovering around, Molly made her way back into the open-plan, state-of-the-art kitchen to prep for the meals for the following few days.

She was not prepared for the mess that awaited her.

To all intents and purposes, it looked as though a gang of youths had broken in and had a food fight.

The benches were cluttered with tubs of butter and jars of peanut butter and jam with the lids left off.

Broken eggshells and bags of open flour spilled across chopping boards, abandoned utensils lay next to three frying pans, each with charred scrambled eggs in, lying discarded on the hob.

A carton of milk and a split bag of spinach were propped up against the toaster, which still had burnt bagels in it.

Lord knows what he had eventually managed to eat.

Molly rubbed at her tired eyes. Levi clearly had no idea how to cook.

There was a pack of bacon open on the countertop.

It was from America. Out of curiosity she opened the fridge to return it and found a selection of drinks and foods, also from America, that must have been shipped in.

How the other half lives! She got to work cleaning the surfaces and loading all the plates and dishes into the dishwasher.

Levi must expect his staff to run around after him.

Cleaning up was obviously beneath him. She wondered if he had been born into such privilege.

Did he have staff to do everything for him?

Luckily for her, she liked the therapeutic nature of cleaning.

Her kitchen at home was always spotless.

As a chef it was second nature to tidy up after herself.

She might as well keep busy and show him how professional she was capable of being because, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, he had seen a very unprofessional side to her so far.

A side to her that until she’d set eyes on him at the Cigar Lounge, she’d not even known existed.

She took a moment to let the events of the last few days percolate.

While she was still furious with Levi and how unfeeling he was capable of being, there was no denying that the sexual chemistry they shared was off the charts.

She’d never imagined kissing someone could feel like that.

‘What are you smiling about?’

Molly jumped, dropping the carton of cherry tomatoes she was holding. She watched them scatter everywhere. Typical. She swooped down to retrieve them.

‘Sorry,’ said Levi, bending to help her. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I came to clean up the mess I left behind.’

Me, or the mess on the bench? she thought.

Molly continued picking the tomatoes up as he crouched right beside her.

What did he not understand about avoiding each other for the week?

This was practically the opposite of what they’d agreed.

She sneaked a look at him, instantly regretting it when their eyes collided and her heart leapt traitorously.

She hastily fished up the remaining cherry tomatoes.

She couldn’t think straight with him around. New rules would have to be brought in.

‘So, what were you smiling about?’ he asked again.

Molly’s cheeks burned. You. I was thinking about you.

‘Nothing. No one. Not a thing,’ she yelped in a high-pitched voice, standing up, ramrod straight.

‘Okay, weird. Well, sorry about the mess I left behind me,’ Levi said, indicating the dishes and pans and trail of food littering the workspace. ‘You were right about the eggs. I apologise.’

Molly ignored him. I should think so.

‘And I think it might be better if I just let you cook for me instead.’

Presumptuous.

‘I’m very busy.’ Levi pointed to his laptop. ‘I don’t have time for cooking, so it’s probably for the best.’

Arrogant.

‘Are you still in a mood with me? Because, in all honesty, I need you to be more professional about it. About what happened between us. Or rather what didn’t happen between us.’

The cheek of him to rub it in like that!

‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You dated someone who worked for you, and it went sour?’

‘Something like that but throw in destroying family relationships and an ugly lawsuit and you’re almost there. Everyone wants something from me. And it’s usually money. I tend never to trust anyone.’

‘I would never ever do anything like that! Never! How dare you!’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to!’ She threw the poor cherry tomatoes rather violently into the sink to wash later.

‘Can you at least look at me while I’m talking to you?’ he commanded, his voice rising. She heard the annoyance in his tone. She was really getting under his skin.

Excellent.

‘Molly, look at me. I’m trying to apologise. I’m sorry, okay? Where are you going? Come back here. Don’t walk away from me while I’m…’