Page 45 of Suspicion

“Great.” Her tone was dry. “I have so many good options.”

“You’re stalling.” He didn’t blame her, but he was going to need her answer. Tucker was hungry, and if he needed to bind her to his bed, then he was going to do that before he tackled the rabbit pie. “Make your choice, little girl.”

“Oh God.” Brow creasing, she glanced at the floor. “Okay, I’ll call you sir!”

He almost heard the unspoken ‘for fuck’s sake’ that flashed in her pretty eyes immediately after the concession. The pussy cat could be tamed, but deep down, she’d always be wild.

“Thank you.”

There was less pleasure in the concession than he’d hoped, but he acknowledged it had been an effort for her. She deserved a reward for that.

“Would you like to eat now?”

“Yes.” She nodded, sniffing back whatever emotion her capitulation had motivated.

No doubt she was overwhelmed with the myriad of feelings the last day had inspired. He might be an ex-soldier, but he wasn’t devoid of all sentiment.

“Yes, what?” His lips curled at how much he was starting to sound like an old-fashioned headmaster. He could imagine the leggy blonde in one of those fetching school uniforms, her ass barely covered by the nearly-illegal length of her skirt. It was a stimulating mental image.

“Sir?” She heaved out an irritated breath.

“That’s right.” His reply was even more patronizing than he’d intended. “Well done. I’ll bring you a piece of pie.”

“Thanks.” She sounded resigned as he stalked to the pot and carefully lifted the lid.

“Mmmm.” He breathed in the delicious scent, taking a moment to exult in his creation.

“What kind of pie is it?” She rose to her feet and peered at the contents of the pot as he lifted out the wrapped pastry base.

“Meat pie.”

That was all he was going to tell her. Tucker was willing to wager she was the sort of woman who would turn her nose up at the idea of eating rabbit. For all he knew, she considered herself to be a bloody vegan! He hoped not, or she’d starve in his company. Meat was the basis of every meal as far as he was concerned.

“Okay.” She sounded uncertain. “It smells good.”

“Thanks.” He carried the pie to the counter and unwrapped the cloth. Unsheathing his knife, he cleaned the blade and sliced into his creation. “How hungry are you?” He peered over his shoulder to find she’d edged even closer.

“Very.” Her brows knitted as though she couldn’t believe she was admitting it.

He would have liked to have heard the word ‘sir’ at the end of that sentence, but he chose to let the omission go. She’d ceded when it counted. Now was the time for them both to eat. He’d work on her manners later.

“Sit down.” He motioned to the seat nearest him, slicing an ample portion from the pie and placing it down on the table before her. Steam rose from the slice as she took her place at the counter.

“Is there a plate?” she glanced at him, her expression caught somewhere between repulsion and confusion.

“I don’t have much crockery, little girl.” He enjoyed the way she flinched at her new pet name. The more Tucker said it, the more he loved it. There was no way he was giving it up. “I tend not to bother using what I have unless I have to. You can eat the pie without a plate.”

“I can?” Her voice trailed away, her attention falling back to her meal before rising to him.

“Yes.” He stifled laughter at the dismay dancing in her eyes. “Just use your fingers.”

“But my hands are filthy.” She lifted them, turning her palms over for him to see.

“Okay.” Tucker’s gaze flitted to them, assessing her pale skin. Her skin didn’t look dirty, but he accepted it was reasonable to wash them before she ate. “So you want to wash them?”

“Yes, please.” She shifted in her seat, apparently uncomfortable at having to ask his permission. He also hoped her ass stung nicely after her spanking yesterday.

“Yes, please, what?” He wondered if he’d tire of needing to prompt her for his title. Perhaps. But in the short term, the idea was electrifying. Her flushing cheeks were enticing. He couldn’t wait to see how else he could provoke her blush.

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