Page 27 of Tempting My Billionaire Master

“Thanks, Ethan.” I watched him leave the bathroom, my legs suddenly feeling weak.

As soon as he was gone, I slid down the shower wall, my knees buckling. That was too close. If Ethan had realized I left the bunker last night, I didn’t know how I would have explained it. I had to be more careful. I only needed to keep up the act for a couple more days until me and Damon found a way to publicly expose Ethan’s assailants.

I knew that Ethan would never agree to this and I had to hide my work from him until we found the criminals. Until then I would make the most of these last few days with Ethan. Even if it was all a fantasy, I would let myself indulge in the fairytale a little while longer.

The hot water sluiced over my skin, washing away the tiredness that clung to my bones. I kept alternating between scalding and icy, trying to shock my senses awake. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would have to do. After last night’s expedition, I needed all the energy I could muster to keep up appearances in front of Ethan.

As I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off, I noticed that Ethan’s hoodie and sweatpants I had worn last night were covered in dirt from the forest. How could I have been so careless? Luckily, he hadn’t seen the dirt or the flashlight beneath the clothes. I couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

Feeling like a criminal, I carried the dirty clothes and flashlight with me to the pantry, which also housed the laundry basket. Burying the clothes deep in the bin, I hoped they wouldn’t be discovered before I could get them cleaned. I left the flashlight on a shelf, trying to make it look as inconspicuous as possible. I grabbed a fresh set of Ethan’s clothes—a t-shirt and sweatpants—and quickly changed into them.

As I left the pantry, a delicious smell greeted me. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and eggs with bacon wafted through the air, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.

In the kitchen, Ethan was busy at the stove, wearing an apron over his shirt and trousers. My heart did a little flip flop. The apron clung to his athletic frame, accentuating the muscles rippling under his clothes. He looked incredibly sexy, completely at ease in this unexpected domestic setting. How was it possible for any man to look that sexy while cooking eggs?

“Coffee?” He nodded at the mug waiting on the counter.

“You’re a lifesaver.” I took a deep drink, relishing the burst of warmth and energy that spread through me.

“That I am,” he said, flashing me a warm smile. “Your breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Ethan.” I leaned in to peck him on the cheek before taking a seat at the small table. A plate of eggs with bacon was waiting for me, and without waiting for him, I dug into the food. The first bite of bacon melted in my mouth, salty and crisp. The eggs were fluffy and perfect. I moaned in appreciation, feeling the caffeine and food already reviving me after the sleepless night.

Ethan’s foot nudged mine under the table in response and a surge of affection for this man swept over me, mingled with a pang of sadness. In a different life, this could have been ours: lazy mornings together, sharing meals and conversation. But that life wasn’t meant to be. I pushed the thought away, focusing on the present.

“This is amazing,” I said between bites. “I still can’t believe that a billionaire can be such a good cook. You turned simple eggs into a delicacy.”

“There’s nothing simple about eggs,” Ethan said, watching me eat with an amused smile. “You can boil them, fry them, scramble them, simmer them, poach them. There are egg curries, frittatas, egg tarts and a thousand other dishes, each with their own nuances. I wish you could try the shakshuka my personal chef makes—it’s an experience so divine you’d swear you died and went to heaven with every bite.”

I laughed again and shook my head. “You seem really passionate about cooking. I could never learn.”

He smirked and leaned in close, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not as passionate as you make me feel, Chloe,” he whispered.

Heat flooded my cheeks. I ducked my head, unable to prevent a smile creep across my face. “Oh, stop.”

He tipped my chin up, gazing at me with a smoldering look. “I won’t stop until you admit you enjoy my passion.”

I squirmed, acutely aware of his leg caressing mine under the table. “Fine, I enjoy your passion. There, are you happy now?”

“Very.” His lips curved. “And since you enjoy my passion so much, how about I teach you to cook? It’s not some esoteric art form.”

“I don’t know about that. Cooking is like chemistry and I am more of a ‘forgot my homework at home’ kind of gal.”

“Trust me,” Ethan replied, straightening up and giving me a reassuring smile. “It’s not nearly as complicated as people think, it’s all about little tricks.” His gaze turned sly. “Of course, the company also helps.”

“Smooth talker,” I said, unable to stop smiling.

“Another astute observation,” he smirked. “But really, it’s actually quite fun, and I’d be more than happy to teach you.”

I hesitated, then gave in with a rueful sigh. “All right, chef. Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”

Ethan’s grin widened. He took off his apron and settled it over my shoulders, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my neck as he tied the strings behind my back. The sensation sent a jolt of energy through me, making me feel more alive and invigorated than even the coffee had managed.

“We’ll start with something simple,” Ethan murmured against my skin. “Like bacon and eggs.”

I don’t know how, but even ‘bacon and eggs’ sounded exciting coming from him.

“First things first,” Ethan began, guiding me towards the stove. “The oven is still hot, so we can start with the bacon.”

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