Page 13 of His to Keep
“No, I don’t, but I expect you to let others do the dirty work for you.”
Eilidh scoops up some scrambled eggs with her fork and pops them in her mouth. She grimaces, but says nothing. I take a bite of mine and realize I forgot to season them.
“Are you volunteering to do my dirty work for me?” she asks.
“Yeah, I am.”
She sets down her fork and looks up at me. “Why?”
I’m surprised she even has to ask. “Because you’ll be my wife. It’s my job to avenge you.”
Eilidh bites her thumb as she contemplates that. “You want this to be a real marriage?”
“After what we did on the dining table, you bet I do.”
A smile touches Eilidh’s luscious pink lips. “That was kind of incredible.”
Relief surges through me. “I was worried when you ran off.”
Eilidh picks up a piece of slightly charred bacon, frowns, and sets it back down on her plate. “I just needed a moment.”
It’s understandable. We went from zero to a hundred miles an hour in just a few minutes.
“You weren’t a virgin?”
“No.” Eilidh smiles ruefully. “You want the story?”
“Not unless you want to tell it. I only hope it wasn’t…” I trail off, unsure about broaching such a sensitive topic.
Fortunately, Eilidh can see I’m struggling and rescues me with a response. “Nobody forced me. It was a brief fling with a cute guy about a year ago. It didn’t come to anything.” She looks off into the distance as if remembering, then turns her gaze on me once more. “It couldn’t come to anything.”
“You had feelings for the guy?” Why does the thought of her loving some man before me cause such irrational jealousy?
“No. I mean, I liked him, but it would be silly to fall in love with one of your captor’s men, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
We sit in awkward silence before Eilidh hops down from the stool she was sitting on. “Do you have any more eggs?”
“There’s a couple.”
“Right, I’m going to make us some fried eggs and toast.”
I glance down at my plate and have to admit my attempt at cooking breakfast was pretty grim. “You know how to cook?”
“I wouldn’t call frying an egg cooking, but I think I remember how not to burn the crap out of it.”
She comes around to my side of the counter and shoos me out of the way. I sit on the stool she vacated and watch as she washes the frying pan.
“Don’t get ideas,” she says as she sets it down on the stove. “Even if we do get married, I won’t be running around like some perfect little housewife preparing your meals and ironing your shirts.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Wherever we end up living, we’ll have a housekeeper to deal with all that stuff. But, for now, I want to enjoy this snapshot of domestic bliss, even if I know it can’t last.
CHAPTER 6
Eilidh
When we finish breakfast, which was edible, if not inspiring, Gio insists on cleaning up. I don’t argue. Washing dishes has never been a chore I enjoy, not that I often had to. Growing up, we had staff who took care of things like that. I only ever did household tasks when I was being punished for unacceptable behavior. That didn’t happen often either. My parents were lenient with me since I was the baby of the family. I remember them making Lorna scrub the stone floors of the castle’s entrance hall once when she stayed out late with some boy, though. My sister was a bit of a rebel.
