Page 63 of The Temptation

I know Dominic wouldn’t have smothered her in barbecue sauce and devoured her—at least he better fucking not have—but I’m still hoping she eventuallyforgives me for leaving her alone with a man who scares the hell out of her.

I juggle the bags in one hand, shove the key into the lock with the other, and pray I don’t walk into the sound of Lucia’s tears because, honestly, I couldn’t handle them right now.

What I don’t expect is her laugh—soft and sweet—mingling with a low, husky one that sends a jolt of irritation straight through me.

I drop the bags beside the hall table with a thud as I stalk towards the sound with a tight jaw and ticking pulse.

I’m forced to do a double take when I step into the kitchen. Lucia’s at the table, her pretty face resting in her hands, with eyes locked on Dominic like he’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

He’s shovelling food into his mouth, clearly not bothered by the attention, or me. And judging by the lack of fur or tiny bones, I can only assume his plate isn’t full of kittens.

My eyes move around the space, and the pristine kitchen I left is now a fucking mess. Not only is something bubbling away on the stovetop, but there are stacks of dirty pots, pans, and dishes piled up next to the sink.

When I clear my throat, both heads swing in my direction. “A word, Lucia,” I growl.

“Oh, you’re back already?” she asks, surprised, and that comment sours my mood further. I’ve been gone for fucking hours.

I give Dominic a murderous look, which doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, before I swing around and storm back into the main room.

My hands clench into fists at my sides as I pace the floor, waiting for Lucia to enter. The moment she steps through the door, I stop cold.

“Care to explain?” I ask with a low, sharp voice.

“You’ve had your hair cut? It looks nice?—”

I run my fingers through my hair as my frown deepens. “Don’t try to change the subject,” I grumble, cutting her off.

Her eyes widen for a second, then narrow. “Explain what exactly?”

“That shitshow in there,” I grumble, jerking my thumb towards the kitchen.

She folds her arms slowly, with eyes locked on mine. “You mean the food? Or the part where I didn’t cry the whole time you were gone?”

My teeth grind. “The part where you got cosy with a man you begged me not to leave you alone with.”

Seeing them all chummy-chummy was the last thing I expected to find when I returned. Am I mad she fed him while I was gone? Perhaps ‘jealous’ might be a better word.

“I’ll admit I was scared at first,” she fires back, stepping closer. “So, I went into the kitchen for some space, and he followed. “I started cooking, and he began eating. That’s when I realised underneath all the brute was just a hangry marshmallow.”

“Hangry marshmallow?” I bark.

“You know, hungry-angry makes someone hangry. Once I fed him, he turned out to be a lovely man.”

“Lovely?” I roar.

“Yes, lovely,” she snaps, planting her hands on her narrow hips and lifting her chin. “I’ve invited him for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Well, you can march that sweet arse of yours back into the kitchen and uninvite him.”

“No!”

Silence builds as neither one of us is prepared to back down.

I finally step forward and keep my voice low. “Don’t test me, Lucia.”

She doesn’t flinch. “Then don’t abandon me and expect obedience when you come back.”

“For fuck’s sake, woman, I never abandoned you.”