Page 13 of Scorned Beauty

Infuriated, I grabbed the towel and marched to the alarm that screeched me awake. I also opened a window before stomping back into the kitchen.

“You gotta have better pans,” he muttered as he scraped what looked like charred bacon into the trash.

“I don’t cook.”

“Obviously.”

“What are you still doing here?”

“Let me get breakfast ready.”

He opened my fridge to get more bacon out. My mouth gaped. Eggs, yogurt, milk, and other groceries filled its depth. I was living in an alternate universe. My usually empty fridge was filled to the brim with food. When did he do this?

“Why don’t you pour us coffee?” The only decent appliance in the kitchen was my coffeemaker. The microwave and toaster oven belonged to Mom. Like I told Dom, I rarely cooked. Since I lived alone, I didn’t feel the need to mess up my kitchen since New Jersey had a fantastic street food scene.

“You don’t have to cook me anything. I rarely eat breakfast.” Coffee was needed for this conversation.

“Call it brunch, then.”

I poured us each a mug of brew. “I don’t think…”

He shot me a quick, pointed glance. “I would appreciate it if you threw on a robe or I might…” He cut himself off before adding, “Just…put something on.”

Mortification crept up my neck as I was made aware of my state of undress. I’d just given Dom an eyeful of shadowed nipples.

“Fuck.” I retreated to the bedroom, with the coffee sloshing all over my hand. I went to the dresser and pulled on clean panties and sweatpants. Exhaustion had caught up with me last night. I stripped off the scrubs I had on and threw on a negligee and fell into bed. I didn’t even remember tossing and turning and fell promptly into a deep sleep. Somehow even with Dom in my apartment, I felt safe enough to relax after the night I’d had dealing with the Russians. But this morning, finding out he still hadn’t left, I armored up with a bra and a thick sweatshirt. I took one look at the mirror and was satisfied I was back to my shapeless self.

Squaring my shoulders, I left the room. Dom had set up bacon and eggs and a whole plethora of breakfast breads.

“Not as good as Jabbin’ Java’s.” He nodded to the croissants.

“Are we going to pretend that you being here is normal?”

“At least sit down and eat and we can talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Dom. You filled my fridge with food and cooked me breakfast. You’re thankful I stopped the bleeding and helped you out last night. We’re even, okay?”

Dom narrowed an assessing gaze at me. I could see him contemplating tactics. “Please sit and enjoy breakfast. I’m sure you’re hungry and not thinking clearly.”

“Don’t gaslight me.”

“For fuck’s sake.” His veneer of calm cracked. “I’m losing patience with your denial. We don’t have to be anything, but I acknowledge that I was overbearing yesterday and…” He stopped at my arched brow. “Right, I’ve been more thanoverbearing, bordering on rude arrogance and cockiness and it’s not the way to…” He let out a deep breath of what sounded like surrender as he sagged into his chair. “Please sit.”

I sat. It was a novelty to see him in full-blown frustration instead of me.

“I’m attracted to you. I admit it was more of a curiosity in the beginning for a woman who seemed to want to hide her looks beneath hideous outfits.”

I was about to object but it was Dom’s turn to raise a brow. There was no use denying it.

“And I get it,” he continued. “We’re a nefarious immoral bunch and not to be trusted, and the only reason no one has snatched you yet is because Sandro declared to us you are a friend of the family. You won’t get trouble from the Italians, but the Russians are a concern.”

“That’s not your concern, is it?”

“It’s my concern if I want to fuck you. In case you missed the part where I’m attracted to you.”

“I can’t afford to get mixed up with you.”

Dom nodded. “I know. I can’t afford it either.”