What I told Matthias notwithstanding, I haven’t had anything since lunch. I sort of lost track of time, and Bianca, who would normally get me to eat something, had to leave early to pick up her aunt at the airport.
I’m going to grab a bowl of cereal, since I can’t cook and don’t want to bother Matthias. I take my bag and go downstairs so I can eat and review the docs at the same time. Marketing sent their revised campaign, and they’re waiting for my final approval.
But this time the kitchen isn’t empty. I smell the aroma of coffee filling the area and see Sebastian standing in front of the espresso machine. He’s in a white T-shirt and boxers, his feet bare. His hair is slightly mussed, like he’s run his fingers through it a few times. And, surprisingly, he’s wearing wire-rimmed glasses, which make him look like a hottie professor.
My hormones go shivery. I’m tired, but not dead.
He turns around and stops abruptly. His eyes are on my face, then they drop to my chest.
And my nipples get pointed like…tiny little hos with minds of their own.
Now I wish I hadn’t lost my bra so soon. But it’s too late.
He tears his eyes from my breasts and looks at me. But from the dark gleam in their depths, it’s obvious he thinks I dressed like this to seduce him.
Clearing my throat, I place the black leather bag stuffed with printed copies of the documents—and my laptop—on the counter. His eyebrows pinch.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, then sigh. It’s obvious what he’s doing. “What I mean is…I thought you were watching TV or something.”
“I had some stuff to look at. I thought you were working late again.”
“I still have things to go over, but I wanted to come home early.” I go to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. “Earlybeing a relative term.”
Sebastian takes the milk out of the fridge for me.
“Thanks. Can you get me a bottle of water, too?”
He places it on the counter.
“Thanks.” I grab a bowl and dump the cereal and milk in it.
He stays out of my way—and the kitchen is large enough that we aren’t brushing against each other or anything—but my whole body is aware of where he is at all times.
Sebastian isn’t the type of man you can ignore, even if he gives you space. He’s like a lion lazing in the sun, watching gazelles in the field before him.
I should act like one of the gazelles and mind my own business. After parking myself on a stool by the kitchen island, I gulp everything down fast.
He takes the stool next to me. “Didn’t you have dinner?”
“No time. I need to wrap this up soon.”
“Want something more substantial?” He jerks his chin at my bowl.
“Don’t feel like ordering something and waiting, and I can’t cook.”
“I can’t, either,” he says, making a face. “For everyone’s health and safety.”
His mild irritation over the fact that he can do anything he sets his mind to—except cook—makes me laugh.
“When do you find the time to party and have fun if you’re working all the time?” he asks.
“I don’t. Contrary to what people think, I never partied much. Most of the events I was photographed at were work-related.” I try to keep my tone unironic. “Photographed” is a euphemism for paparazzi harassment, but that isn’t Sebastian’s fault. “Besides, I’m trying to lie low. I can’t seem to avoid scandals no matter what I do, and I don’t want anything to embarrass you or your family.”
“You don’t have to do anything on my behalf. Or my family’s.”
His terse tone makes it sound like he’s saying there’s a line between us and I shouldn’t cross it. And it annoys me after the weekend. “It’s the least I can do for your family,” I say, trying to not sound hostile. I don’t want to fight, but I don’t want him to be unfair, either.
“They aren’t worth it. You should do whatever makes you happy.”
