Page 66 of Lethal Legacy

“Well, Lucia spent all afternoon teaching you to make cookies, which I now plan to enjoy eating. I think it’s the least we can do to say thank you, don’t you? And just for your information”—I wag a spoon in her direction—“I’ll have you know I was once a professional dishwasher.”

Ofelia’s mouth drops open. “Shut the front door,” she says flatly.

“Ofelia!” Lucia reprimands her. I have to turn away to stop myself bursting out laughing.

“It’s true,” I say, gathering up plates. “I spent more than two years elbow-deep in a restaurant kitchen when I was the age you are now.”

“No way.” Ofelia is staring at me as if she’s never quite seen me before. “Why weren’t you in school?”

“Oh, that’s a story for another day.” Suddenly rather uncomfortable, I look around for the dishwasher. I catch Lucia watching me with an expression not unlike Ofelia’s and get even more rattled.

“Oh my goodness.” Ofelia impatiently pushes me aside. “You seriously don’t even know where to start.”

Mickey comes back in, waving the plate triumphantly. “Dimitry says they’re perfect!”

“Well,” I mutter. “IfDimitrysays so . . .”

Lucia elbows me. “We told you so,” she says sweetly to Mickey. “Now, never let me hear you question my cookie-making skills again, or we just won’t be friends.”

“I’m your friend,” says Masha solemnly, taking one of Lucia’s hands.

“Me, too,” says Mickey, taking the other.

I drop a pot, and Ofelia cocks an eyebrow at me. “I thought you were a professional?”

I should never have told them about my past.“It’s been a while.” I’m unsettled enough that my voice sounds rather curt. This is all way too cozy.

“Luce!” Masha waves a wooden spoon covered in caramel under her nose. “Is your turn to make it clean!”

“No!” Lucia protests, laughing. “I can’t eat any more caramel.”

“Your turn!” Masha shouts, clapping her hands. Ofelia and Mickey join in the chorus. Shaking her head, Lucia brings the wooden spoon up to her mouth, and just like that, I’m glued to the spot.

The sticky mess slides through those bee-stung lips, and I catch a glimpse of pink tongue swirling around it. She closes her eyes briefly. “Mm.”

Oh. Holy. Fuck.

Her eyes open, widening when they meet mine. For a moment we stare at each other as the children cavort around the kitchen, and the heat in hers is enough to bake a thousand fucking cookies.

“Well, you’ve clearly got the cleaning up under control.” Even I can hear the hoarse note in my voice. “I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight, everyone.”

Ofelia whispers something that sounds likeswizzle sticks,and all three children burst into a fit of giggles.

Feeling severely jolted by the entire thing, I beat a hasty retreat, ignoring Dimitry’s sly fucking smirk at the door.

Idon’t call Lucia upstairs, despite an almost desperate desire to do so. I almost wish I hadn’t soundproofed the penthouse during the renovations. I have an intrusive desire to know where she is. Whether she’s returned to her own apartment yet or not. Whether she’s showering all that caramel off her body...

That leads to very dangerous images of licking the caramel off, inch by luscious inch. I’m terrified of how much I want to.

All this, and you’ve only fucked her once?I’m more thoroughly unsettled than I can ever remember being. Worse, it isn’t just the mind-blowing sex. It’s seeing the children smile again. Feeling, even just for a short time, as if that apartment was actually some kind of home, instead of a beige fucking hotel suite, which, no matter what I do, it has always seemed to be.

Except it isn’t your home. Or the children’s. And itdefinitelyisn’t Lucia Lopez’s.

I need to shut this train of thought down.

Right now.

Yes, it’s great that I’ve finally found an au pair that the kids seem, miraculously, to like. The fact that Lucia also happens to be mind-blowing in bed is a definite bonus. But it’s barely been a day. All this could come to an end at any minute. Not to mention the small issue of Miss Lopez’s fake identity.

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