Page 24 of Leo

Sophia would love if he called her up, but he was a one-woman man and no matter how frustrated and hopeless he felt, Sherrian was it for him. Why she could not see what the hell was in front of her was beyond him.

Stirring himself, when a question was thrown at him, he leaned forward and entered into the discussion.

*****

The sensational aroma hit him as soon as he opened the door, and the feeling of warmth and coziness permeated the air.

Leo had been hoping Sherrian would be waiting up for him, a stubborn hope that had not faded despite his long day.

The meeting had dragged on longer than anticipated, with the brothers’ bickering turning into a full-blown argument that needed his intervention. He had finally managed to broker a temporary truce, enough to keep negotiations alive and his hopes for the hotel's winter grand opening intact.

He shook off the tension as he stepped into the house, appreciating the welcoming atmosphere. The warmth was a stark contrast to the cold frustration that had clung to him during the meeting.

He hung up his coat and took a deep breath, savoring the delicious scent that filled the air. It was a blend of something sweet and spicy, something that spoke of home and comfort.

He found Sherrian in the kitchen, her back to him as she stirred a pot on the stove. She wore an apron over her t-shirt and jeans, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

The sight of her, so at ease and domestic, sent a pang of longing through him. He wanted to cross the room, to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair. But he held back, unsure of his welcome.

She was so absorbed into the task that she did not realize he had arrived. Taking the opportunity to study her, he leaned against the frame and felt the worry and despair fading away.

He had whiled away the time by having lunch with some associates and taking in a few sights. At one point, he found himself wandering into several boutiques, tempted to pick up a few things for her.

He had stopped at a local Bistro and sat there brooding in his liquor before he decided to come home. To hell with it, if he was going to allow her to make him stay out in the bloody cold when he could be in the warmth and comfort of a place that he owned.

As if sensing his presence, she turned her head towards the doorway. The quick flash of what he wanted to think of as pleasure flashed across her expressive face and her smile was wide and welcoming.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He remained where he was, blue-green eyes searching her face.

“So, I’m making Coq au Vin.” She turned back to the stove, giving him an enticing view of her taut butt outlined in the faded jeans. “In the spirit of our being in France, I decided to prepare the dish. Your maid, Maria, was getting on my nerves.” She glanced over her shoulder to see him still leaning against the doorjamb and wondered if he was still mad.

Aside from a terse text message during the day, she had not heard from him. “She was chattering like a damn magpie and mostly in French, which as you know, it’s not half as good as yours.” She paused for breath, and he waited. “I spent the day exploring the various cafes.

My request to go back to the kitchen to watch how a meal was being prepared was not taken kindly.” She turned towards the table tucked into the corner of the room and turned over the plates. “Then I had two gorgeous French men hitting on me.” She flashed him a smile, unaware of the tensing of his shoulders.

“What did you do?”

“About what?” She sent him a vague smile as she bustled back to the stove to remove the pot.

“The flirting?” His face was a mask of irritation and impatience as he watched her flitting from stove to table.

“Oh, I told them I was married, and my husband would not take too kindly to me spending an unforgettable day making love. Their words, not mine.” The fact that she called him her husband, sent emotions washing through his body.

Remaining neutral was no longer possible. Pushing off the doorframe, he came towards her and took the wine. “Let me help.”

They spent the next few minutes putting the meal on the table in silence.

She sat across from him and stole glances as he took his first bite.

“Well?”

He took his time chewing and she had to resist the urge to reach across the table and shake the answer out of him. It annoyed her that she was on tenterhooks waiting for his approval. It also confused her that she had enjoyed cooking for him. When she looked up and saw him standing there, she had felt the acute sense of something akin to longing spearing through her body.

“Oh, come on!”

"Don’t keep me in suspense," she urged, her voice tinged with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

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