“You’re wrong when you say you have nothing to give me,” he said gruffly, still grappling with revelations still swirling in his mind. “But Idounderstand, Angel. I understand only all too well.”
Suddenly the distance between them was too much. Not just thephysical distance but the emotional distance as well. He’d made so many mistakes with her. And even knowing she wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met, he’d still treated her the same. Lavishing expensive gifts on her instead of providing the things that really mattered to her. Even knowing the priceless treasure he possessed and that she was unique and rare, he hadn’t made the effort to truly learn her.
He held out his arms, holding his breath and hoping she didn’t refuse him. “Come here, Angel. I refuse to have this conversation when you look tired on your feet and all I want to do is hold you.”
He exhaled a long sigh of relief when after only a slight hesitation, she walked into his arms. He wrapped them around her and for a long moment he simply held her, closing his eyes as he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.
Then he maneuvered her to the sofa and sat, pulling her down into his lap, once more wrapping his arms tightly around her. Her slight frame nestled perfectly against his. As if she’d been made for him and only him. Two pieces of a puzzle.
So fucking perfect. Soft, warm. So loving and generous. She was a shining light in the darkest recesses of his tarnished soul. A welcome-home gift—treasure—every time he walked through his door.
“First I want to address the issue of equality and what you can contribute to make you feel as though you give me something in return for what I give you. Though, babe, ifallyou ever gave me were you, I’d spend the rest of my life trying to catch up, because nothing and I mean nothing I give you will ever be more precious than you giving yourself to me. You can’t put a price tag on something that is priceless and worth more than all the money in the world.”
He felt her smile against his chest, and he caressed the length of her hair, resting his chin atop her head, marveling at the contentment he felt over such a simple act.
“You’re an excellent cook and you said yourself you love cooking.At first, I didn’t like the idea of you cooking for me when I came home because as I told you that very first night, I never meant for you to be a domestic slave.”
She leaned away from his chest so she could look at him, mischief in her eyes. “Just a sex slave,” she teased.
He relaxed, relief surging through his veins because she was no longer tense, nor did she seem angry.
He smacked her playfully on the behind but left his palm there, cupping the soft plumpness of her ass.
“Damn right,” he said with no remorse whatsoever. “But I took something away from you that I shouldn’t have. I made you feel as though you contributed nothing to our relationship. You enjoyed cooking for me and you were happy that I loved your meal. Hell, I even loved those fucking cupcakes and you had every single one of my men eating out of your hand so they’d get one too. If someone had told me a month ago that the men who work for me would eagerly be lining up for a cupcake made by an angel, I would have laughed myself stupid.”
She blushed but her eyes were shining in delight, the corners of her mouth tilted upward into that delectable quirky half smile that was so characteristic of her. Some might consider it a fault, but Drake found it endearing. Even now, he paused to drop his head and nibble at the corner of her mouth, running his tongue over that delicious little quirk. She shivered against him in response and his entire body tightened. So fucking responsive. He’d thought it, said it, too many times to count since she’d barged into his life, or, if he was honest, since he’d dragged her into his life.
She lit up for him. Him. Only him. Hell, she’d been around his men, his brothers, all men most bitches couldn’t keep their hands off of, and yet Evangeline smiled at them, was affectionate with them all, much to their disgruntlement and bewilderment, but in no way could her actions or responses ever be construed as sensual. She wasn’t a flirt. She was toodamn honest, not to mention too innocent to even know how. If she liked you, she was nice to you and she let you know she liked you. It was as simple as that. And apparently she’d decided that she liked all his brothers. Men would die to have a woman go up in flames the instant they looked at her in a certain way. Or touched her, kissed her, whispered the right words. Hehadsuch a woman right here on his lap and in his arms. In his bed every night, offering her complete submission as sweetly as a woman ever had, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to fuck up and lose her.
He nearly shook his head. Compromise. Not a word in his vocabulary. But when it came to Evangeline, he was fast learning new words and most certainly their definition.
“I love your cooking,” he said. “Best fucking meals I’ve eaten in my life.”
And they were. He might do a lot to keep a woman like Evangeline, but he wasn’t a liar. Not even to make her feel better or to appease her would he lie. She valued self-worth most of all. How hollow would that self-worth be if it was built on lies he’d told her?
Her eyes glowed with pleasure, her entire face lit up with radiance to rival the sun, her cheeks growing rosier by the second. She looked at him as if he’d just saved her from a burning building, for fuck’s sake. It didn’t take much to please this woman at all, and here he’d been throwing tens of thousands of dollars at her when apparently all she truly wanted was...him.
He couldn’t comprehend it, but the proof was here, looking him in the eyes. She wanted Drake Donovan the man. Not the wealth, power, status or prestige of being on his arm and under his protection.
His money appalled her. The gifts he gave her horrified her. Silas had informed him that she was less than thrilled to accept the cash and credit cards he’d sent over. She’d been more excited over the fucking Chinese takeout than over a credit card with no spending limit. Andhe’d bet his entire fortune that she hadn’t even touched the cash, much less counted it.
How did you keep a woman like his angel happy when she didn’t appear to want anything?
She only wants you.
And that he could give her. If that was all it took to make her happy, tokeepher happy and to make damn sure she never walked out on him, then he’d give her exactly what she wanted.
“Once a week, same day unless it can’t be avoided, you cook for me. I’ll arrange my schedule so that I’m home no later than six. And when I say unless it can’t be avoided, Angel, I mean that nothing short of death will keep me from being here. Now that’s all I can promise,” he said in a serious voice. “You are my single most important responsibility. You gave me your trust and with that trust, you gave me yourself and you placed your faith in me that I’ll keep you happy. I take my responsibilities very seriously, and therefore I’m going to continue to spoil the hell out of you. You will not lift a finger except those nights you cook for me and you will not be washing the fucking dishes afterward. That’s what I pay a cleaning lady for. And what you can do for me is accept whatever I choose to give you and know that I give it not to take away your sense of self-worth or sharpen the divide between our net worths, but because it makesmehappy. And what will make me even happier is if, as I told you the night I took you home with me for the first time, you think of creative ways of expressing your gratitude. Not be thinking of ways to pay me back and certainly not dwell on not being able to pay me back. Because that will seriously piss me the fuck off.”
She surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. She buried her face in his throat, and the soft whisper of her exhalations blew over his skin, setting fire to his every nerve ending.
“I’m sorry,” she said in an emotional voice that was muffled by his throat.
He pried her away from him and glanced sharply down at her.
“For fuck’s sake, what the hell are you sorry for?”
He knew his exasperation was showing, but hell, she was the single most infuriating, complex woman he’d ever known.
