Page 54 of The Promise
He relaxed his arms and tipped her tear-stained face up to his with a gentle finger. Her green eyes were dark with a mixture of anguish and passion, but her face was calm, the worst of the storm had passed. "I made you breakfast."
She smiled shakily and sat back, the quilt slipping, baring her breasts. He sucked in a breath and forced his hand to remain placidly on her shoulder, the desire to feel her nipple respond to his touch was almost more than he could bear. She made him crazy. With a shaking hand, he reached for the corner of the quilt, tucked it securely under her arm and tried for a casual tone of voice. "Come on, it's probably cold."
He reached for a bowl on the tray and handed it to her. He had to admit the congealed glop in the bottom wasn't very appetizing. Colorful, but not particularly edible. But then what did he know about modern tastes?
She stirred it with the spoon. "What is it?"
He struggled to remember the name. "Froot…something. Loops. Froot Loops. That was it." He smiled at the whimsy of the name.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. The box said it was cereal. I figured I could handle that. I mean all you have to do with cereal is mix it with water and heat it to a boil. Simple enough. I even figured out how to use the contraption you call a stove." He sat back, feeling smug.
She choked on a laugh, obviously trying to swallow it.
"What?"
The laughter escaped despite her efforts, and she almost dropped the bowl. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you." She swallowed. "This is so sweet of you, but you don't cook this kind of cereal." She lifted the spoon and turned it upside down. The rainbow colored blob hung from the spoon, firmly glued in place. "You eat it right out of the box. With milk."
He looked at the spoon and then at her, his face breaking into a rueful grin. "Patrick's always on me for not reading instructions." He shrugged. "I guess I'm not quite up to twenty-first century cuisine." The look in her eyes sobered him instantly and he ran a finger across her cheek, wiping away the last traces of her tears. "I'm sorry."
"For the cereal?" Her gaze met his, and he lost himself in the fathomless depths of her eyes.
"No. For all of this." He shrugged helplessly. "For everything."
She put the bowl down, and with a lithe twist, straddled him, dropping the quilt, her eyes never leaving his. "Not for everything, I hope." She smiled, a slow seductive turn of her lips that had his body singing with joy.
With trembling hands, he reached for her. "No, not everything."
"Tellme more about your relationship with Nick."
Cara looked across the table at him. "Where did that come from?"
He slid a forkful of pancakes into his mouth and licked at the syrup left in the corners of his lips. "This is really good," he mumbled over the pancakes.
She stared at his mouth, imagining that she was the one licking away the sweet sticky... She inhaled sharply. "Surely you have pancakes in 1888?"
He swallowed. "Yeah, sure, Patrick makes them all the time. But they don't taste anywhere near this good."
"God bless Aunt Jemima."
"Who?" He bit into another mouthful.
She smiled at his obvious ecstasy. "Never mind. You mentioned Nick."
He swallowed and laid his fork on the plate, reaching across it to cover her hand with his. "I want to know more about him. Something about last night just doesn't ring true. And I've got the feeling Vargas is at the bottom of it."
"Are you talking about the fire? We know what happened. It was the space heaters. The fireman told us." She leaned forward, searching his eyes for answers. "Are you saying it wasn't my fault?"
He pulled his hand away, running his hand through his hair. "I don't know. I just keep going over it in my head, hearing you talking about no smoking. You said one spark and…what was the word?"
"Kablooey."
"Right, kablooey. The point is you were being careful. Overly so, in my opinion." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with the wave of his hand. "I'm saying that I don't believe anything you did caused the explosion. It just doesn't make sense."
She frowned, letting his words sink in. "But I still?—"
"Look, when we left the gallery to go eat, you shut everything down. I remember because I was hungry and you were intent on checking everything twice."
