Aware I've been silent for a while, I peek up quickly, seeing Alexander regarding me as I finish up chopping the celery. I'd taken longer than normal because I'm still in pain but won't lay down. I love to cook and was eager to help. I get I'm being stubborn, but I really want him to see how much I appreciate what he's done for me so far.
He turns and adds the ingredients before stirring the sizzling food and placing a lid on the pot. He dusts his hands together, then turns back to me to pin me with a rather indescribable look that takes me aback.
“It’s smellingso good."
"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "It is."
He leans his hips on the counter next to the stove. When he braces the heels of his palms on the counter, I can't help but notice his eyes growing a bit tight as he regards me for a silent, tense moment. He breaks it quickly, though, jerking his head to the side; his eyes roam over the pot on the stove. "I almost forgothow much I loved this dish," he says, voice deepening with sudden emotion that has me blinking in surprise. "Thank you for bringing it up,” he says. Still keeping his eyes averted, he takes the kitchen towel off his shoulder and places it on the counter.
"Oh." I shrug. “It’s nothing, really,” I reply lightly, tipping my wineglass for a sip because something tells me this man isn't usually this uninhibited, and I don't want to do or say anything to make it weird, or cause him to be uncomfortable.
Not much of a drinker, I hum appreciatively when the flavor hits my tongue.
He's got great taste in Pinots.
A movement catches my attention, and my eyes lower. Alexander fists his hand momentarily before clasping his wineglass, meeting my eyes when he lifts it to his lips for a deep sip. I flush, a little flustered that he's showing obvious signs he's attracted to me. In any other world, any othertime,we might be free enough to explore whatever this is that's happening between us. But the fact of the matter is I'm not just getting out of a four-year relationship. I'm trying to heal from a miscarriage.
I work to take our minds off it.
“So–I heard from a little birdy that you were going to be speaking at the Vancouver conference this year. I’m going as well, to get my educational credits for this year,” I say conversationally, wanting to talk about something other than the crap we’d been dealing with the last two days.
“Really?" Alexander's eyes bore into the center of my very soul it feels like. I nod, and he tilts his head, eyes roaming my face slowly for a moment before he continues, "Yes, I uh…I speak on the second day." He pushes from the island to place his hips back against the counter and then glances down at the pot again before facing me again. "We speakers normally get put up at this fancy resort. Do you know where you’re staying?” he asks, lifting his glass and forcing my gaze to his fingers.
They're so beautiful. Long and elegant.
“Oh, no. I don’t know yet…” I blush. Needing a moment from his intense stare, I turn my head. Through the threshold of the kitchen, beyond the foyer, I can just make out what appears to be a cozy library.
“Well, I’ll sneak you into my room if you’d like." My heart races, and my eyes widen in disbelief as I turn my head back to look him dead on, but he doesn't falter in his speech. Either uncaring or uninterested at what he'd just implied. "We normally get a pretty big suite, and I don’t need all that space. Up to you if you’d like,” he says, kindly.
Kindly.
My lips twitch before I lose the battle and smile. I don't think he understands the effect he has on people, and it's quite interesting to watch him navigate what seems to be his usual politeness and the slight attraction that's simmering between us. “I’ll let you know if the hostel turns me down.” I take another sip and hope my little smile doesn't look goofy.
There's a tense silence for a few seconds as his face morphs from a flirtatious look to one that's a bit…pretentious, and almost evenjudgmental.
“You’re joking, right?” he quips, placing his wine down on the counter. His eyes narrow, and a brow arches, letting me know he wants an answer.
I shake my head, a little laugh escaping me.“Yes,"I giggle. "A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” I say, gingerly sliding off the stool, going to the pot and taking the lid off before stirring the meat. “Gosh, this looksamazing; you’re doing such a good job. It already smells like that Italian place by my office.”
I keep my gaze averted while I work to replace the lid. When I turn, I gasp in surprise as he'sright therenext to me like he appeared out of thin air.
Alexander grabs my wrist, pulling me a couple steps to him. Making my heart pound painfully in my chest. “Do you really mean that?” he says, with a seriously handsome and cheeky grin on his face. My traitorous heart begins beating so hard that it's stealing my breath. He's looking at me with something akin to awe, even a touch desperate as he waits for me to validate him again. It's in this exact moment that I realize that I'm not scared of him.
I'm desperatelyattractedto him.
Like panty-wetting, clit-throbbing, melt-into-a-puddle-on-the-floor attracted to him. I nod, glancing down quickly at his hand on my wrist.
“I do. Hm-hmm,” I hum breathlessly, pulling my wrist away and stepping back a couple feet.
It feels wrong, and I instantly miss the feel of his warm skin on mine. I glance up just in time to see a flash of hurt in his eyes before it disappears behind that careful mask he wears.
“Add the wine. It’s ready,” Alexander says, handing me the bottle of merlot.
His eyes crinkle with amusement as I take it from him without a word. He turns back to the stove and then puts the towel on the little stainless steel knob. Shoulder to shoulder, he removes the lid again and watches as I pour a couple of healthy splashes in the pot.
Replacing the lid, he turns his head to look at me. “Now, we let it work for a bit. It's time for that nap. I can wake you up when it’s ready." We stare at each other for a minute. I'm so ashamed that I'm wondering if he means for us to lay down together. But he continues, his next words making me relieved and disappointed at the same time, "I have a few client folders to look over. I'm going to set up over there in the nook while the food cooks.”
He wets his lips, exhaling deeply through his nose as he rakes his gaze across my face. I wonder what the all-knowing,powerfulpsychiatrist sees as he so blatantly assesses me. He tilts his head.
