He opened his mouth in faux offense. “Yeah, though it will be brunch by the time everything is ready. I’ll have you know that Angel keeps a fully stocked vegetarian pantry—and baked beans are considered a breakfast food… in Australia.”
“Mm, I thought we were in upstate New York, but baked beans work,” she retorted with amusement.
“You and he apparently have something in common,” he teased, picking up the can and setting it next to a pot on the stove. “I could make you a classic breakfast of… powdered eggs, baked beans, and biscuits if you want to eat now.”
She gave a playful shudder. “You’re really trying to impress me, huh?”
“Oh, I haven’t even started with my real talents,” he murmured in a low, sexy voice while wiggling his eyebrows.
She laughed. “I’ll wait. No sense cooking something just for me if you are making a larger meal.”
The kitchen door creaked open behind her. Markos entered, walked straight to the fridge, and pulled out a large container of steaks that were marinating. The moment he peeled back the lid, the rich scent of garlic, rosemary, and soy hit her nose.
Kiki blinked. “That’s… a lot of steak. You know there’s only three of us, right?”
Markos shrugged, setting the container on the counter. “Steak and eggs, darlin’. Steak and eggs. Nikos can keep his damn beans. Besides, we’re expecting company, and they are going to be hungry. I’m going to do another perimeter check, then head down to the basement. The steaks won’t be ready for at least an hour or two. I expect a few of the guys to be here by then.”
She stilled, barely registering what Markos was saying.
Company? How many?
Her stomach dropped.
She wrapped her arms around herself. Her breath caught in her throat as unease slithered down her spine. More people. More eyes. More risk.
More ways to be exposed.
She tried to breathe, slow and steady.Count backward from five. Don’t panic. Not here. Not now.
The door clicked shut behind her as Markos exited.
A ripple of peace ran through her when muscular arms wrapped around her waist from behind, groundingher.
Nikos’s presence was immediate. Solid. Safe.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to mess with the cook,” she said, trying to hide her growing panic behind humor.
His lips brushed her ear as he murmured, “This doesn’t count when it’s the cook doing the messing around.”
She turned in his arms, her cheek brushing against his chest. His hands moved with hers, sliding to the small of her back. When she tilted her face up, he was already looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
It undid her.
Their mouths met—tentative at first, testing.
Something cracked open inside her.
Her arms locked around his neck, her fingers tangling in the damp ends of his hair. Their kiss deepened, slow and consuming. It wasn’t soft. It was… intense. Ferocious with need and hunger and something she hadn’t dared hope for in years.
Connection.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that—wrapped around each other, pressed against the edge of the kitchen table, their breathing tangled and shallow.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. They were both panting.
His thumb traced the edge of her jaw. His voice, when it came, was fierce and low.
“I won’t let anyone touch you. No one’s going to hurt you—not while I’m breathing. You can trust me, Kiki. You can trust us.”
