“Keeper? You intend to keep me? I don’t do month to month.”
He is silent for a moment, slightly grimacing as he sips. “Continue with your terms.”
“I need to be respected.”
“Says the woman who slept on the floor outside my door when perfectly good rooms are available.”
“A good mistress must be nearby. Then she can act quickly if you need something.”
Jahleel sets down the cup. “The adjoining suite already has your things. My closet connects the two. What else?”
“I expect to be the type of mistress that’s treated better than a wife.”
His eyes sparkle. He even chuckles. “You had time to think of all this outside my door?”
“Though you sent me away, I didn’t sleep until Stephen returned. He examined you and told me you were doing better. Then I could rest, but I wasn’t going to be far from you.”
“All this devotion now.” He fingers the handle of a butter knife like he’s deciding where to aim. “You listened to what I wanted. The bath was what I needed.”
Sliding him the fresh whipped cream, I say, “A mistress must be attentive.”
Lada awakens, purrs, and then glares at him. She stops making any sound.
“Lady Hampton, introduce me to your pet. Busy woman, how did you find time?”
“Just a cat I saved on the way here.” I pick up her basket and present her to him. “Her name is Lada.”
His face blanks. “Yes, Steele said that name last night. That was what we called Anya’s cats.”
“It was the first name that came to me. I meant no harm.”
When Jahleel reaches across and strokes her head, Lada purrs like she’s found a lost friend. “You must’ve remembered her,” he says. “Good to know all memories are not bad ones for you.”
Our gazes connect and linger. My mind strays to the kiss we just shared, and the ones from last night. “Many are good, but the present is better.”
He drinks his tea and grimaces.
“Probably not enough honey. You like things sweet. I’ll have to tell Scarlett.”
We begin eating, not talking. My eggs are good, and the bacon, too.
He’s slow and deliberate but does clear his plate. He uncovers a platter of his favorite dessert, kartoshka. Each pastry offers the scent of caramelized sugar, browned butter, and warmed berries.
My bargaining partner peers at them. For a man who loves dessert, how can a pile of his favorite treats go untouched? “I’ll also speak to my sister about making something to stir your appetite.”
“You think I need to eat more. I’m a waste?”
“That’s not the right word, Jahleel. Wasting away. And yes, you must eat more.”
“Then what is more muscled?” He flexes his arm. The deep indigo sleeve bulges a little.
I push his elbow down. “You are nicely done. But being so ill … oh, I don’t know, you were sizable. Thicker.”
“You like me thick, is that it?”
Tea dribbles out of my mouth. “That’s not how I’d say it.”
“But I understand, Katherine. Fine. I accept your offer.”
