Page 44 of Shark Bait

“Is there something wrong?” Alessio asks, his gaze catching mine.

Alessio’s blue eyes are difficult to hold. I look away. “Not at all.”

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asks, sounding offended.

I pick up my fork and commence to eating before the Doberman snaps and bites my head off for offending his household by not eating any of his food. The flavor of the steak bursts on my tongue the moment I put it into my mouth.

“Holy moly, what’s on this steak?”

“Orange zest.”

“Get out,” I say in disbelief. Who does that? Never heard of that. I shove another bite into my mouth, trying to chew politely while wanting to shove the entire filet into my mouth and eat two more. Make that five. Damn, this is the best filet I ever had.

I fork a potato and taste it, and it’s the best damn potato I ever had, and that’s saying something coming from someone who got all the potato straight from the farm. “Guys, I was going to offer to make pancakes tomorrow for breakfast, but now I’m thinking I’ll show up hungry and wait to be fed.”

“I like your pancakes,” Shark says.

Alessio stops chewing, but doesn’t comment.

Valerina takes a sip of her water. “I would love pancakes. Haven’t had any since I left New York.”

I was right about New York. “Oh, yeah? Where about in New York?”

“Manhattan,” she says.

Of course. “Did you do any shopping there?”

Valerina sighs wistfully. “Did I ever.”

Alessio dabs his mouth with a napkin. “Ever been to New York?”

“Sadly, no, but I’m planning on it now that I can afford a shopping trip on Fifth Avenue.”

“We can go together. Fly commercial, if you prefer.”

“Sure. Um, commercial is fine. First class. Sipping champagne while my feet stretch out on the bed and under a comfortable fluffy blanket in a dark, quiet cabin.”

“Oh yes,” Valerina says. “I could use another vacation right now.”

“From what?” Alessio asks.

She smiles a devilish grin. “You.”

Alessio shakes his head.

“Where is Leo?” I ask.

“Napping,” she says. “He ate a burger with fries. When he wakes up, we’ll have cakes.”

Alessio and Shark are changing plates, getting second servings. Valerina seems pleased. At first, I thought there was too much food, but with how much these men can eat and with my big pregnant appetite, I’m starting to see why Valerina served enough to feed a small army.

She helps herself to more salad, looking longingly after her potatoes. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?” Alessio asks.

She shakes her head. “The baby is too small to be an excuse for all the calories I’m consuming.”

“Which baby?” I ask because I want to be sure the bump I see behind her flowy shirt is a pregnant belly.

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