Page 28 of Forbidden Pawn

My body tenses instantly, and the relaxed atmosphere shatters. I don’t answer right away, taking a moment to rein in the frustration that’s bubbling up. She’s too observant for her own good, always asking questions, always trying to get into places she doesn’t belong.

“It’s none of your concern,” I say.

Her smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t push further. I turn away, staring at the horizon. It would be so easy to forget everything and lose myself in her for a while, but one little sign of curiosity on her part, and I can’t help but put the walls back up.

I want her, but I don’t want to get on the bad side of her brothers, especially while they owe me payment. You never know with these men. I already have enough trouble as it is.

Then again, what could she possibly tell them? It’s obvious that she’s trying to tease me into doing something to her, and that kiss hasn’t left my mind ever since it happened, despite my behavior toward her. I’ve been keeping my distance for a reason, and maybe she’s been doing the same? She backed up, possibly hurt by my rejection, and there has been no teasing ever since. Instead, she seemed subdued, sad even. Maybe this really is about her wanting some fun to pass the time while she’s here?

There’s only one way to find out.

Chapter 21

June

I know I’ve stepped over some invisible line again when I see Ryker’s expression harden. The lightness fades and the tension returns, thick and heavy between us.

My heart was beating fast with fear when he came upstairs and unlocked the door to my bedroom. He didn’t follow me right away, so I had some time to drive myself crazy, while I was waiting for the inevitable blaze of anger that would come from him, once he knew.

But nothing happened. He was calm and nice, not mentioning anything about me running into one of his associates downstairs when I was supposed to be locked away. I was relieved at first, but now I wonder. Did the guy not mention me, or is Ryker just pretending not to know?

I glance at him, trying to read his mood, but he’s impossible to figure out. He’s being… nice, which is exactly the opposite of what I expected.

What game is he playing?

“Are you hungry?” Ryker suddenly asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice a little softer than usual. My nerves are still on edge, but I’m trying my best to keep things calm between us.

“Let’s see what we can come up with,” he suggests, standing and gesturing for me to follow him back inside the house. We head into the kitchen, and I watch as he walks toward the cupboards. He’s moving like a man who’s used to being in control, but there’s something a little off about it. Like he’s not really sure what to do next.

“Do you ever cook for yourself?” I ask, watching him open one of the cabinets, scanning its contents.

“No,” he says, pulling out a random jar of sauce. “Like I said, I usually have someone here.”

I nod, biting my lip. “Right, but you sent him away because of me?”

He glances at me, his eyes narrowing briefly, but then he nods, turning back to the cupboard. He pulls out another random item—this time some dried herbs—looking a little lost.

I can’t help but smile. It’s endearing, seeing him out of his element like this. He seems completely lost in his own kitchen. Which explains why we have been eating mostly take out and sandwiches this past week, except for that first meal when he still had leftovers that his cook prepared.

“You know how to cook, though, do you?” I ask, trying not to tease him too much, but it’s harder than expected.

He huffs. “Of course, I do. It’s not rocket science.”

I suppress a laugh, stepping closer as I peer into the cupboard. Among the random ingredients, I spot a package of pasta, some garlic, and a can of tomatoes. Simple enough.

“Here,” I say, pulling the ingredients out. “How about I put you out of your misery and cook something for us?”

“Put me out of my misery?” he repeats, an eyebrow raised. “Do you really think I’m too stupid to cook some pasta?”

“I didn’t say that,” I respond. “But, to be honest, I have more trust in myself than in you. I think it’s better for the both if you let me do it.”

I wink at him, and he shakes his head, but he’s chuckling. Thank God. I don’t want to get on his bad side, but it’s so hard not to tease him about this. It’s a lot harder not be myself than I thought it would be.

He takes a step back, his expression now shifting between surprise and reluctance, but after a second, he raises his hands in defeat and steps aside.

“Fine,” he says. “I won’t argue with that. You cook.”

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