Page 6 of Forbidden Hunger

At least having this much room should make Mr. Drake easy to avoid. If I can stay out of his way, maybe he won’t resent my presence so much.

“I wonder what Carole left for dinner,” Eden says, and I trail her into the kitchen, where she opens the fridge and peeks inside a covered dish. “Mmm, chicken stir-fry.”

My stomach rumbles, and she laughs. “Let’s get this warmed up before you keel over.” I pull out the brown rice next to the stir-fry, and we put it all in the microwave.

Eating right is essential to peak performance, but it hasn’t been easy on my budget. I feel a flash of guilt that I’m looking forward to having delicious, healthy meals courtesy of the Drakes.

While the food warms, Eden and I set the table. “Will your father be joining us?” I ask.

“Oh, yes, I think so. He’s almost always here in time for dinner, and he lets me know if he gets tied up at work. I haven’t heard from him, so he should be home any minute.”

I don’t answer. My system is a jangle of nerves at the thought of facing Mr. Drake. It’s bad enough he doesn’t want me here.

It’s infinitely worse that I want him.

I’ve tried my best not to feel this way. He’s my best friend’s father – and even if he weren’t, he’s so much older, not to mention totally out of my league. But every time I’m around him, it’s the same.

My mouth gets dry. My heart starts to pound. And a warm pressure builds between my legs until I’m squirming.

Not that that’s all I feel. Mr. Drake is smart, and strong, and a good dad. The more I learn about him, the more it deepens my admiration – and my physical attraction.

Before I can shove my feelings into the deep, dark hole where I keep them locked away, he comes through the door. His eyes go straight to me, and my heart jolts. I fix a smile on my face while Eden greets him. “Hi, Dad. How was your day?”

As soon as his attention shifts to her, I drop my gaze and scurry around finishing the place settings, my pulse skittering.

Dammit.

A whole city full of men, and he’s the only one who gets my engine revving.

I risk a glance at him. He’s tall, his broad shoulders filling out his suit, his features almost classically handsome, but with a sensual air that’s given me endless late-night fantasies.

Between school and dance, I’ve never had time for relationships. Now that I’m at the Institute, the only guys I’m around are other dancers, and dating any of them doesn’t seem smart. Not that I even want to.

They’re boys. Talented, good-looking, even, but boys. Ashton is all man.

The thought of being with him that way fills me with a mixture of nerves and exhilaration.

He takes off his coat and hangs it in a closet while Eden gets our dinner from the microwave. His face seems drawn, as if he’s had a rough day. Without thinking about it, I move to the wet bar along one wall.

I notice everything about him, whether I want to or not, including what he likes to drink. Moments later, the glass is in my hand and I take it to him. “Scotch on the rocks, right?”

“Yes.” He takes it from me, but there’s a strange look on his face. “Thank you,” he adds belatedly.

Crap. Now I’ve made things even worse by presuming to take care of him. We sit down at the table, and I’m careful to choose the chair across from him, as far away as I can get.

“Hang on,” Eden says. “I’ll be right back.” She hurries off to her bedroom, and I busy myself with putting rice and stir-fry on my plate when Mr. Drake offers me the dishes, giving him a tight smile but no words.

Fortunately, she’s back in no time. “You can use my old phone,” she says, setting it next to my plate. “We just need to get it activated.”

The screen is cracked, but it’s still a lot newer and nicer than the one I had. Before I can thank her, Ashton says, “What happened to your phone?”

He’s frowning, no doubt irritated by how much of a bother I am. I look away. “The landlord locked her out of the apartment before she could get her stuff,” Eden explains. “She lost everything – all her clothes, family photos, her extra dance outfits, everything.”

A muscle moves in his jaw. He mutters something under his breath that I can’t catch and takes out his wallet. “Here.” He tosses a credit card on the table. “Buy whatever you need.”

I stare at the AmEx like it’s a snake. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

His eyes narrow. “It sounds like it is necessary.”

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