Page 74 of Wicked Sinner
Caesar is standing at the stove wearing dark grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt, his dark hair still slightly mussed from sleep. There's a pan of what are definitely pancakes on one burner and bacon sizzling on another. The coffee maker is gurgling, and there's a vase of fresh white roses on the kitchen island that definitely wasn't there yesterday.
"Morning," he says without turning around, like he can sense me standing there. "I wasn't sure what you liked for breakfast, so I made a little of everything."
I look at the kitchen counter, taking in the spread he's created. There are pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit cut into perfect pieces, orange juice, and a steaming cup of tea that smells like Earl Grey. It's the kind of breakfast spread you'd find at a five-star hotel.
"You cooked all this?" I stare at him. “You said you didn’t like to cook.”
“I don’t, usually. But I made an exception for you.” He flips a pancake, reaching for his cup of black coffee, and when his gaze slides over me with that familiar heat, I feel a flood of tingles run over my skin.
This is just fucking unfair.
It’s hard enough to resist him as it is, to remind myself that before I agreed to all of this, he kidnapped me. That Caesar Genovese is a man I can’t trust and shouldn’t turn my back on, let alone let my walls down enough to fall back into bed with him. A man this gorgeous is nearly impossible to resist.
Now he’s cooking me breakfast, looking like that, in what feels like an underhanded attack on my willpower.
“Why?” I blurt out, still staring at the food.
“Because I wanted to.” He turns to start arranging food on a plate, ostensibly for me. “Sit down. I’ll have a plate ready for you in a second.”
I sit, because I can’t think of what else to do. I’ve been too caught off guard. I can’t look at him, so instead I look at the roses, touching one of the petals gently. “These are beautiful.”
"The florist assured me they were the best.” He slides a plate toward me and hands me the mug of tea. “I ordered Earl Grey. If it’s not what you like, I’ll get something different.”
“It’s perfect. Decaf?” I ask, thinking of the baby, and he nods.
Well, shit. He thought of everything.
We eat breakfast in what could almost be called comfortable silence, if I ignore the underlying tension that seems to follow us everywhere. Caesar keeps glancing at me like he's trying to gauge my reaction to his domestic efforts, and I find myself wondering what he's really trying to accomplish here.
The food is delicious, that’s undeniable. I polish off every bite, and Caesar smiles at me, clearly proud of himself.
“Seems like it was edible,” he says, finishing a piece of bacon.
“Don’t get a big head.” I slide off of the barstool, taking my plate to the sink. “I was hungry.”
He lets out a low whistle. “You’re a hard woman to please.”
“I didn’t ask to be pleased, so yes.” I turn, looking back at him. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Work.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “I’ll be in my office for a while. I have some meetings after. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”
“You don’t have to be.” I look at him, and he meets my gaze evenly.
“I’m not interested in spending time with any woman but you,” he says quietly. “I might not always make it home for dinner, but it will be because of business. Not because of anyone else.”
“I haven’t asked you to be faithful,” I retort, even as the idea of him with another woman sends a stab of jealousy through me that I have no reason to feel. “This marriage isn’t real.”
“I made vows to you.” Caesar’s jaw tightens. “I plan to keep them for as long as they hold.”
I don’t know what to say to that. There’s an intensity to his face, his voice, that brings me up short and makes any comeback I might have had die on my tongue.
“What are you planning to explain about why you married a nobody mechanic over one of those precious mafia daughters?” I ask finally, when I’ve had another few sips of tea and can speak again. Caesar narrows his eyes at me.
"I'm going to tell them that I married the woman I wanted to marry, and anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me directly."
There's something in his tone that makes me look at him more closely. "You're really not going to back down, are you?"
"No." His dark eyes are serious. "I told you. I protect what's mine."
