Page 46 of Heart of The Night

‘No, you’re addictive,’ he said, his voice dripping with a dangerous sensuality. His hand gripped the top of the doorframe as he pinned me with a look. The sight of him right then was enough to give me pause. He was the epitome of masculinity, and his current pose underlined it fiercely. Women never stood like that. His posture alone radiated a potent dose of testosterone. It was hardly fair. He was practically glistening with sweat, and he looked outrageously enticing.

I slipped out of the bed and walked up to him.

‘That’s it,’ he murmured, a triumphant smile gracing his lips.

I stopped before him, resting my hand on his slick, bare chest. Then I gave him a good shove, pushing him into the bathroom, and quickly shut the door between us.

‘You little minx!’ he moaned, making me giggle.

‘Enjoy your shower,’ I said, pivoting on my heel to get started on breakfast.

As I moved past William’s partially open wardrobe, my gaze wandered in. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed that the uniform blues and greys were no longer interrupted by the splash of Francesca’s orange silk dress. Wondering if I had just overlooked it, I walked in and did a quick sweep of the room, but there was no sign of the dress anywhere. What had he done with it? Frowning, I decided to ask him about it when he emerged from the shower.

I made a beeline for his fridge, assessing the ingredients I had at my disposal: heaps of fruits and vegetables, which immediately reminded me of Jason. Like his brother, William seemed rather focused on staying healthy. It was hardly surprising – with that athletic physique, junk food was obviously not a regular on his menu. That made me wonder, though: did he have a secret stash of sweets or crisps somewhere?

Spotting eggs and chives, I decided to whip up omelettes for us. As they sizzled in separate pans, I went on a cupboard hunt. I half expected to find hidden goodies, but after scouring every last shelf, all I found was a single bar of dark chocolate, two packets of crisps, and some assorted nuts. He clearly wasn’t fibbing about not having much of a sweet tooth.

‘Mmm, smells good,’ he said, suddenly right behind me.

I swivelled to face him. ‘They won’t be a patch on your scrambled eggs.’

He chuckled, wandering round the island to grab a glass. ‘I bet they will.’

He was half-dressed, his light-grey waistcoat unbuttoned and his bronze tie hanging loose around his neck. The top two buttons of his white shirt were still undone, though he had managed to get his light-grey trousers on properly.

He was just so… Well, gorgeous.

‘Thanks for cooking,’ he said, filling his glass with water and downing it in one. ‘Again.’

‘Thanks for eating it,’ I replied, a smile of amusement dancing on my lips.

He gave me a sideways look, seeming a bit confused. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? You’re a wizard in the kitchen. Those fillets you cooked last night were top class. Honestly, it’s the best chicken I’ve ever had – tender, hot, juicy…’

My smile widened. I had made it extra spicy, just for him. ‘The trick is slow-cooking them till they’re sixty-eight degrees in the centre.’

His head tilted, a glint of admiration in his eyes. ‘Huh. Good to know.’

He opened a drawer, fetching two plates, then rifled through another for some cutlery. With an easy saunter, he rounded the island and took a seat. I slid the omelettes from the pans onto the plates, adding a sprinkle of chives on top. Then, clad in nothing but my knickers, I hopped onto the stool beside him. His gaze slid over me, lingering on my bare chest.

As I reached for my cutlery, he suddenly leaned closer, his voice low and laden with desire. ‘I’m on the verge of ditching my meal to have you for breakfast instead.’

I gulped. ‘Really?’

His knife clattered to the table as he traced his fingertips across my thigh. His touch sent a tingling current through me, stealing my breath away. But as his hand began to wander higher, sneaking closer and closer to my underwear, I swatted it away.

‘Stop it, you lustful, insatiable knob,’ I chided, though my smile betrayed my amusement. ‘Eat your eggs.’

‘But I find yours more enticing.’

His witty response took a second to register. Then I felt unbearable heat rushing to my cheeks. ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’

A chuckle spilled out of his mouth as he reached for his knife. ‘I was half-joking.’

Half-joking. I let out a laugh. ‘You’d be wise to stop talking now.’

He pressed a quick, sweet kiss to my burning cheek before tucking into his omelette. ‘Mmm. Delicious.’ He gave me a winsome grin.

Smiling, I scanned him from head to toe. As my eyes admired his outfit, my mind inevitably wandered back to Francesca’s dress.

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