Page 19 of Cinderella's Fling with the Off-Limits Billionaire

No drama.

He wasn’t Jay.

She breathed more easily.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d feel like, so I got a selection of things.”

With curiosity, she followed him into the kitchen.

“Sushi, Chinese, Italian, salad.”

She wrinkled her nose at the last suggestion. “I’m definitely not a salad girl. Chinese okay?”

He pulled out several containers and lined them up on the bench, then gathered bowls and cutlery. “Help yourself,” he offered, and she appreciated that, because Jay used to always serve her food, deciding how much she should eat depending on whether or not she’d gained weight. He weighed her too. She pushed the memories out of her mind. Or tried to, at least. But the funny thing about memories was that they were always there, even when you wanted to resist them. Jay was no longer a huge part of her life, but he had shaped her. He’d made her wary of everyone, because he’d been such a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her ability to trust—even to trust herself and her own judgement—had been permanently altered by his manipulation and controlling behaviour.

She heaped an array of meals into her bowl then sheepishly looked at Leandro. “I’m starving.”

He nodded with something like approval, taking the bowl from her and placing it in the microwave before he began to assemble his own meal. His was even more generous than her own. “Also starving,” he said with the hint of a grin.

The kitchen began to smell wonderful, and her stomach rolled.

He removed the dish when the microwave chimed, replaced it with his own then pushed her meal across the counter. He retrieved cutlery too.

“Have a seat.”

She did so, on one of the benches, and watched as he refreshed her champagne then placed it beside her meal. She took another sip. It was really delicious too. She waited until his own meal was ready, and he came to sit beside her, their knees brushing in a way that sent funny little snakes writhing through her belly.

“So,” he drawled. “No regrets?”

She shook her head. “Definitely not.” She pressed her fork into some of the noodles. “You?”

“No.”

The Chinese was delicious. She had a few mouthfuls before replacing her fork and reaching for her drink. “What brings you to New York?”

His features tightened almost imperceptibly. “A wedding, and work.”

“Convenient.”

“In what way?”

“Well, to need to be here for two different things. Two birds, one stone…”

“The work is because of the wedding. My…brother just got married. His wife and he run a company based in New York. So while they’re on their honeymoon, I said I’d hold the fort.”

Was she imagining the undercurrent of tension in his words?

She pursed her lips a little, contemplated asking more, before remembering that there were things he didn’t want to talk about. She wouldn’t push, she wouldn’t pry. That’s not what they were.

“Do you like it?” She asked instead.

He exhaled, as if relieved that she’d changed the subject. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Definitely not.”

“New York is a fascinating city. What’s not to like?”

“Oh, you’re preaching to the choir,” she assured him. “I adore this city. Everything about it, even the way it can smell in summer,” she laughed. “Well, maybe I don’t adore that, but it doesn’t tarnish the beauty for me. Then again, I haven’t really travelled,” she said with a lift of her shoulders. “So maybe I just love it because it’s all I’ve ever known.”

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