Page 36 of Cooper

“Stop a second.” I take the towel from her but make eye contact. “Hey. Look at me.”

She looks up.

“Leave the panties off and come here.” I realize since we’re not actively having sex I might sound a little bossy and that’s not my intention. “Please.”

She slowly comes back to the bed, and I pull her down beside me.

“Tell me why you’re suddenly embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” she says slowly. “I’m a little unsure how to behave after…”

“After?” I prompt.

“I don’t know. I’m not a prude I just… I’ve never had a lover quite so bossy before.”

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you I like a little…dominance in the bedroom. We should have discussed it, but things have been kind of crazy. If you don’t like it, I won’t do it anymore. Or, you know, much.” I try to make light of it.

She bites her lip. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I’m just not used to it. And I’m not sure how it carries over into the rest of our relationship.”

“It doesn’t.” I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it softly. “You’re still you, and I’m still me. I just like to be in charge in bed. This isn’t some master/slave BDSM thing.”

She visibly relaxes. “Oh. All right.”

“You just tell me if you don’t like something or if it’s too much, okay?”

“Okay.” She leans over and lightly kisses me. “I loved it. But I’m starving. Are you up to eating something other than me?”

I grin. “Yeah, I’m hungry too.”

She gets up and starts setting out the food and the aroma is amazing.

“God, is that paprika I smell?”

She nods. “We use it a lot in our cuisine here. One of the wonderful things about Limaj is that we take little bits and pieces from so many other European countries. Paprika from Hungary. Olive oil and feta cheese from Greece. Desserts from Romania. Wine from all over the region.”

“The food I’ve had so far has been amazing.”

“I should have at least half a day off on Sunday. If you’re up to going into town, I’ll introduce you to our famous black and white hot chocolate. It’s incredible.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“I guess it is.”

We eat at her desk, and the goulash is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I never thought much about paprika, but it’s prominent in this dish and I like it. The bread is still warm and the butter so fresh I wonder if it’s made in house.

I realize I don’t know a lot about her culture, and I want to. We talked a lot during our time in Iraq, but it was different. We talked about the Royal Protectors, American football and European soccer, the fact that she’d never had a Snickers bar. She told me she’s not close to her parents even though she helps support them financially.

I know her pretty well, but there’s a chunk of information missing.

“When was the last time you saw your parents?” I ask as we eat.

She lifts her brows. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. We talk about a lot of things, but your family isn’t one of them.”

She shrugs. “There isn’t much to tell. I come from a small town up north and my parents are old school. They weren’t fans of the old regime, but they aren’t fans of this one either. The old one was too strict, too conservative, and this one is too liberal. They like that they’re no longer under tyrannical rule, but they also think dresses should be longer, gay sex is a sin, and a woman’s sole purpose in life is to bear children and take care of the family.”

“They must not have been fans of you going into the military.”

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