Page 85 of Chain Me

Who knew the big, bad contractor could make for a capable domestic?

Oblivious to my thoughts, he remained intent on his task. His fingers flew from ingredient to ingredient, sorting them as he went.

“I decided to exert a bit of creative control,” he confessed without a hint of guilt. “Your nutrition means more to me than fear of your legendary wrath, ohmistress.”

I let the taunt slip by unchallenged, unwilling to explore the unfamiliar sensation lancing through my chest. Instead, I peered at the assembled ingredients with a frown. “Well, whatareyou making?”

He reached into a brown paper bag that had yet to be unpacked. From it, he withdrew something wrapped in butcher’s paper—a large, completely whole fish. After selecting a knife, he proceeded to slice off the creature’s head. As his gaze met mine, something that might have been amusement lifted the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see.”

I crossed my arms. “Fine.”

Damn him. Watching him cook shouldn’t have been nearly so fascinating. The man possessed an alarming skill with a knife. With unnatural ease, he chopped veggies, washed herbs, and shifted things from pots and pans. It wasn’t long before a delicious aroma filled the entire room and I eagerly sniffed, lightheaded in anticipation.

Though, to disguise my interest, I made sure to sigh loudly at random intervals. “Does your sudden concern for my ‘nutrition’ mean no evening brandy, then?”

I was just being petty now, but Dublin was prepared for me.

From another paper bag, he fished out a bottle that resembled champagne at first glance. “Sparkling cider,” he explained, setting the bottle down. “I wouldn’t imagine denying such an esteemed heiress of her customary nightcap.”

Touché, Mr. Helos.Resigned, I waited patiently while he finished. As he removed the final boiling pot from the stove, he looked back as if noticing me there for the first time.

“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed for dinner, mistress?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “I wouldn’t dare to presume that you eat in casual clothing like some common riffraff.”

Apparently, he too was capable of channeling my mother from beyond the grave.

Throwing my head back, I performed a haughty appraisal of him with a sweep of my gaze. “How could I? My lazy servant hasn’t offered to dress me yet.”

“Ah, I beg your pardon.” He stepped around the counter while wiping his hands on a dishcloth. “How unacceptable.”

I stiffened as he advanced on my position step by dangerous step.

“Can you walk up the stairs on your own?” he wondered. “Or are your feet as delicate as your hands?”

A flame jolted to life in the pit of my stomach. As if fed by gasoline, it spread, feeding an inferno only he could ever spark. Nothing else affected me the way he could with a single searching look. Nothing except his touch.

“I…I can walk,” I conceded, rising to my feet. I swayed. Finding my balance at all was a feat of sheer willpower on jellied limbs.

“Good.” Dublin inclined his head toward the door with a gentlemanly nod. “After you.”

I led the way to my bedroom, where I was alarmed to find that not only had someone cleaned it, but the door to my wardrobe was hanging open, mysteriously brimming with new clothing.

“Yulia works fast,” I blurted, recognizing her handiwork in the delicate satins and artfully applied lace. A red dress in particular drew my eye. The moment my gaze settled over it fully, Dublin had already yanked it out by its hanger.

“Turn around and raise your arms,” he said, manipulating the fabric in his hands.

“Shouldn’t I be the one issuing commands?” I couldn’t even muster up enough air to sound truly indignant.

“I am simply eager to serve.”

A shiver ran down my spine at that chosen word. The hoarseness I thought I’d heard in it was simply my ears playing tricks.

“Arms.” Impatient, he took it upon himself to spin me around. Then he tugged the zipper of my dress down. Gradually, the fabric slid down my hips to pool at my feet. “Step.”

Shivering from head to toe, I took two steps forward, freeing my ankles from the discarded fabric.

“Now…” His fingers fanned across my torso, radiating possession. “Hold your breath.”

I looked back in confusion. “W-Why?”