Page 17 of Forbidden Pawn

“What were you doing in my room?” I ask, but he just shakes his head.

“This is my house. I can be where ever I want, whenever I want,” he says.

He walks past me in hurried steps and runs down the stairs as if he was running away from me, pointedly avoiding my eyes.

I stare after him in confusion for a few moments before I enter my bedroom. I close the door behind myself and search the room for anything unusual. It doesn’t look like he touched my bag and my clothes, and everything I own is still there — except for the things he already took from me in the car. What was he doing in here?

An uncomfortable idea presents itself, and I search the room again, more thoroughly this time, as I look for any signs of cameras that he may have installed. But unless they are cleverly hidden inside the bed frame or behind the walls, there is nothing.

The bathroom! Maybe he installed some cameras there to spy on me. He would certainly get a better show, especially if he wants to see me naked without me knowing. I run over to the door that leads into the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom.

And then I see it. I know what he was doing up here.

There’s a little shelf above the sink that was empty when I was last in here, but now there’s a large array of hygiene products — soap, shampoo, facial creme, body lotion, and even hair conditioner and a pink razor. He really thought of everything.

And he ran up here to give these things to me. He wants me to be more comfortable.

But why?

Chapter 12

Ryker

“Thank you.”

Her voice startles me, and I turn around on the spot, facing her with a puzzled look. I’m standing in the middle of the open kitchen, with two large pizza boxes on the counter before me.

She’s wearing her pair of black leggings and a loose-fitting white t-shirt that reveals way too little of her delicious curves underneath. She obviously didn’t bother to bring her best wardrobe with her, and I can tell that she feels a little uncomfortable when standing next to me. I’ve always set great value on the way I present. Looking clean and put together is a good way to mask my dirty business.

“For what?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“For… the shampoo and everything else,” she says. “It was nice to take a proper shower.”

“You’re welcome,” I respond before I turn my back to her.

I can sense her presence behind me, as she lingers next to the aisle that separates the kitchen from the dining area, while I open the first pizza box.

“Do you need any help with that?” she asks, her voice surprisingly timid. Was one friendly gesture enough to silence that bratty tongue of hers?

I don’t turn around as I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. Just sit down.”

I have already set the table with plates, silver cutlery, napkins and a small plate of cut-up chili peppers. I always like to add fresh chili peppers to my pizza after it’s been in the oven. The heat while baking diminishes too much of the fire that can spice up even the most bland meal. Not that these pizzas are bland atall, they’re the best I know. But they’re even better with some extra heat. I place a few slices from the first box on a large plate before opening the second box.

“I didn’t expect there to be delivery out here,” Grace says, apparently trying to fill the awkward silence between us.

“There isn’t,” I say. “I have a guy.”

“Of course, you have a guy,” she laments. “You probably have a guy to iron you shirts for you, too, don’t you?”

Ah, there it is again. Lucky for me. And I thought tonight’s dinner was going to be boring.

“Is it Enzo?” she asks, apparently still desperate to strike a conversation.

I shake my head. “No. Enzo was still off duty today.”

I take the large plate full of pizza slices and carry it over to the table, while she takes her seat in the same spot she’s been using since she got here.

She eyes me like a prey that worries about being eaten by a predator, and maybe that’s not too far off. I have every intention of devouring that delicious little body of hers, if she’ll let me. And I know she will. I can see the interest flicker in her eyes every time she looks at me, and I know for a fact that her sassy attitude is just an attempt to hide her fear of me. But I gave her something she asked for, and that has touched her more than she cares to admit. She fears me, but she’s also smitten and confused.

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