Oh yeah, me.
His eyes darkened. “You do realise you are naked in my lap, right? My hand is literally cupping your ass. It would be easy to smack it for you.” As if to prove his point, he squeezed. “Would you like that?”
I almost nodded.
Almost.
“No time for that Havoc; your guest needs feeding. Not what do you fancy?”
For a second, he didn’t say anything, just stared at me from a few inches away and then, with a sigh, he let me go, letting me clamber from his lap.
He didn’t say a word until I was heading out the door, my body covered in sweat pants and the T-shirt I had worn to bed. There was no way I was going down those stairs with bare legs.
“Darcie?”
I turned. “Yeah?”
“You asked what I fancied?”
I raised an eyebrow at him; if he gave me a list a mile long of breakfast foods he wanted like I was his live in slave, we were going to have serious problems.
“You.” His voice was deadly serious. There was no smile on his face. Instead, a frown drew his eyebrows together. “I think I fancy you.”
***
“Well, you seem to have the infamous Havoc wrapped around your little finger, don’t you, girl?” The voice made me jump as I made my way into the compact kitchen. I hadn’t been expecting him to be hovering behind the door.
Like some lurker.
“I do?” I tried to keep my voice steady as I headed towards the fridge. Peering inside would only give me a few moments before I had to turn and face the music.
Or mobster.
Because I was pretty sure Havoc’s unwanted house guest was affiliated with the mob in some form or another; I had watched The Sopranos.
“Looks that way to me.”
Gathering up a packet of bacon, I used my hip to close the door and finally turned to him, plastering my face with a smile. “I’m pretty crazy about him as well.” I ducked my head. I couldn’t blush on command, so I was hoping he would take it as sweet and coy.
His eyes narrowed.
Maybe my acting needed some work after all.
Time to change tactics.
“I’m Darcie, by the way; Havoc forgot to introduce us last night and well this morning...” I trailed off. Pulling a pan off the hook, I let it hit the side with a clang. “My ass was in the air, and he was doing his macho thing.”
“His macho thing is the only thing keeping you alive.”
“What’s your name?”
Dark eyes narrowed. “I don’t think my name really matters.”
Well, wasn’t he just a massive ray of sunshine in the morning. And I thought I was grumpy first thing.
“Well, I’m about to cook your breakfast, and you have seen my ass; the least you can do is tell me your name?” The sizzle of bacon filled the room as he stared at me.
“Christian… my name is Christian.” He finally said.
