Adalia arrived at the house to find Matthias strumming away at his veslo. He immediately stopped when she stepped through the front door.
“Don’t have to stop on my account,” she casually spoke.
Matthias put the veslo down anyway and looked at her with hesitancy. “Can we talk?”
Adalia took her shoes off by the door. “Can I change and bathe first?” she asked.
“Of course,” he replied gently.
Adalia headed into her room, shoes in hand, and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t quite ready to talk about last night’s ordeal, but knew that the longer she avoided him, the more awkward it was likely to get. He could wait a few more minutes, though. Besides, she wasn’t the one that walked away.
After taking her time bathing and changing, Adalia emerged about half an hour later. She wandered out of the room, wearing loose fitting lilac, silk pants that tied at the waist and a cashmere, high neck sweater that was one shade darker. Her damp hair hanging in thick, wavy tendrils down her back.
Matthias had resumed his tune, but eyed her carefully as she entered the room.
Adalia collected items from the pantry for dinner, ignoring his steady gaze.
He spoke first. “Would you like some help?”
“Can you cook?” came her cool reply.
Matthias placed his instrument down and rose from the chair. “Depends on if we are having toast for dinner or not?”
Adalia rolled her eyes. “We are not. We are having a honey, ginger, pineapple, and summer vegetable, chicken curry.”
“Well, in that case . . . no, I can’t cook,” he said as he sat back down.
Skidding to a halt, arms full of ingredients, Adalia stared at Matthias. Shock registering on her face.
Laughter from deep within Matthias’s stomach echoed through the room. “You should see your face right now,” he laughed.
Adalia’s glare didn’t waiver, and she certainly didn’t smile at his humorous act.
Matthias stopped laughing and cleared his throat. “I only jest. How can I help?” he stood again and moved towards her.
Adalia didn’t answer. She simply resumed her duties in the kitchen, loudly banging ingredients down on the counter and shutting drawers with force.
“Hey . . . talk to me,” Matthias murmured as he reached for her arm.
“Don’t. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to kiss me like that, leave me like that and then come back and be funny like that and you certainly don’t get to touch me,” she snapped, pulling away from him.
She busied herself by chopping green capsicums and a brown onion. Tears threatened to spill over, and it wasn’t because of the onion.
“I’m sorry Adalia. Last night shouldn’t have happened. Trust me. You don’t want this,” he pointed to himself.
Adalia whirled, hands on hips. “How would you know what I want?”
Matthias ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I know where I come from and what my title says I am . . . it’s not nice. I don’t belong here in your world. There is too much darkness inside me. You deserve better.”
“You don’t get to decide what I deserve,” she threw at him. “You made me feel so stupid by leaving me last night. I don’t go around just kissing anybody. In fact, you’re the only person I have kissed since arriving in Lucius twelve years ago and now I totally regret it.”
Adalia watched the colour drain from Matthias’s face, but went back to preparing dinner—Shiloh would be here soon.
“What do you mean, the only person?” he asked.
“How else do you want me to explain it?” she replied curtly.
“So, you have never kissed another man since living in Lucius?” Matthias took a step towards her, and she glanced at him sideways.
