Page 85 of Raise Hell

Finally, I take a bite.

“This is amazing!” I gush, mostly out of surprise. I have to cover my mouth with my hand to prevent that same delicious food from flying out all over him. “Sorry.”

He smiles. “I’m glad you like it.”

“South African food is definitely on my radar now. Damn.”

A tension I didn’t realize was there leaves his face, like it matters to him if I like the food. He ordered something else, not the boar sausage or whatever he called it. His dish is a sort of stew with bits of potato, spices, and dark chunks of what I assume is beef or lamb floating in it. It looks good, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s even better than mine.

Drake catches me staring at his plate when I’m not fast enough to look away. He smirks and raises his fork in the air.

“Want a bite?”

I lean forward and open my mouth. His other hand is cupped underneath the spoon to catch the chunk of meat if it falls. When I take the bite, his fingers just barely brush my chin.

That small touch is enough to set a tingle along my skin.

I pull back as quickly as I can. “It’s good.”

“It’s potjiekos.”

“I’m not even going to try to pronounce that.”

My heart is racing as I force myself to stare down at my plate. I can’t do this if I can’t get my body’s response to him under control.

If this is a game of chess, my king is cornered and cowering.

There are another few moments of charged silence. When Drake takes a sharply indrawn breath, I assume he’s going to say something about the obvious sexual tension. Probably a gloating comment about how obvious it is that I’m moments from ripping my clothes off and demanding he eat me next.

Instead, he surprises me by saying something else entirely.

“My father refused to acknowledge me until I was about eleven years old. I spent most of my childhood thinking he was dead.” Drake speaks offhandedly, no emotion in his voice. But his eyes flash like diamonds in the darkness. “Mamma didn’t want me to know who he was, or that he was still alive, because she knew I’d try to contact him at some point. She didn’t want me to be hurt when he inevitably rejected me.”

The Northeast elite with the half-black heir, who is also a foreigner. Yeah, I could see how a dick like Anton Van Koch would want to make his firstborn son just disappear. That’s what happens when your empire is more important than basic humanity.

I set down my fork. “Sounds like she was trying to protect you.”

“Would have worked better if he hadn’t come riding in one day out of nowhere insisting on his parental rights. He threatened to get the courts involved if Mamma didn’t let me go with him.”

I’d known a bit about Drake’s history, whatever I could find on the internet, but not this. “Then what happened?”

“Mamma doesn’t have much money, but she isn’t the type to roll over without a fight. They agreed I would split my time between them for a few years, but that I had to attend St. Bart’s when the time came. Apparently, every Van Koch male has attended this school since it was founded.”

“But not the women?”

“St. Bart’s didn’t start letting girl in until the 80s, but yeah.” Drake takes a sip of wine. “We’re sort of an institution around here.”

“That’s an understatement,” I say mildly. “And now your sister is here, too.”

“That was part of the deal. I wanted her to have the same opportunities for a good education, but I didn’t want her to end up by herself.”

“That doesn’t explain why you don’t want anyone to know you’re related.”

“Felicia doesn’t need that kind of target on her back. It’s the best way I can think of to protect her.”

I know more than a little about wanting to protect your sister, although he seems to be doing a better job of it than I have.

“Do you think your father loves you?”

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