Page 62 of Brutal Heir

Clearing my throat, I poured myself a cup. “Sorry. It’s how I like it as well. I must have done it out of habit.”

With an inward groan and an apology to my Italian ancestors, I added three spoonfuls of sugar and a large dash of cream to my coffee.

The first sip made my teeth ache. I preferred espresso in the morning but refused to drink what passed for it in Paris.

She wrapped her fingers around the warm cup and took a sip before casting her bright, beautiful eyes up at me. “What did we talk about last night?”

Setting aside the disagreeable coffee, I lifted the cloche from her plate, displaying two poached eggs on a nest of ham atop a sliced croissant.

I drizzled the pale-yellow Hollandaise sauce over it. “As I recall, there wasn’t much talking.”

She blanched.

Her coffee cup rattled the saucer as she set it down.

I placed a warm, reassuring hand over her shaking one. “Nothing happened, little one.” Then I gave her a wink. “I think I’ve proven today that I prefer my partners to have a certain level of…enthusiasm.”

Her cheeks flushed as she slipped her hand out from under mine and placed it in her lap. “Thank you. I’m ashamed I drank so much. I just can’t shake the feeling we talked about something important.”

Since my fury at finding her drunk in that café, ready to take food from another man, had driven me to a brutal honesty that could ruin everything, I’d been betting on her memory loss.

With a charming smile, I lied, “Nothing that I can recall,” before removing my cloche.

She frowned again. “You’re not having the same as me?”

I’d ordered the eggs Benedict for her because I’d noticed from the detective reports that she always ordered it when she went out for brunch with friends.

“I prefer a light breakfast.”

She picked up her fork and traced circles in the Hollandaise sauce without eating. “Eggs Benedict is my favorite.” She looked up at me. “Why am I getting the strange feeling you already knew that?”

I spooned some dark cherry preserves onto a slice of wheat toast. “There goes your American suspicious nature again. Perhaps I ordered the most popular tourist breakfast because the hotel recommended it.”

Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she continued to toy with the food. “Of course. That was very thoughtful of you.”

I reached for my coffee cup and raised it to my lips before remembering all the sugar and cream.

Without taking a sip, I set the drink aside and leaned back to study her. “I’m going to need you to actually take a bite, sweetheart.”

She gripped her fork so hard her knuckles whitened. “I guess I’m just not hungry.”

“All the same.” I leaned forward and, with my fork, cut off a piece of egg and ham. After sweeping it across the Hollandaise sauce on the plate, I held it up to her mouth. “Open your mouth.”

The tension between us crackled, pulling her thoughts in the same dangerous direction as mine.

The corner of my mouth lifted as my gaze traveled to her lips, my intention clear. “That is always an option if you continue to refuse to eat.”

She clamped her mouth around the fork and pulled back, chewing slowly while she kept her eyes locked on mine.

Pleased with her obedience, I gave her another wink. “Good girl.”

I laid my fork down, threading my fingers together and prepared for the next step of my plan: getting Sabrina to Italy. “I wanted to discuss your career.”

She swallowed and looked at me with frightened eyes. “What about my career?”

“Specifically your new job at the House of Diamanti.”

After putting her fork aside, she toyed with her napkin. “But I already have a job with Édouard Sauvage-Lafleur.”