Page 47 of Take My Breath Away
“I’m happy to cook.” I go to stand up but his hand wraps around my wrist. Gently but firmly, he pulls me back. He doesn’t let me go and I don’t try to pull away.
“I know that part of our arrangement is that you look after the food, but not today.”
We’re sitting close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath, laced with chocolate and vanilla. He’s smiling, and his eyes, moss green and flecked with gold, are locked on mine. His grip around my wrist slackens, but just a little, and he must be able to feel my speeding, out of control pulse, because it’s booming all the way through me.
“And I’m glad you do because I’ve not eaten so well for — well I don’t know for how long. But I don’t expect you to do it every night, and I certainly don’t expect you to do it now, not after the last few hours we’ve had.”
He’s still holding my wrist as he holds my gaze.
“But I like doing it.”
He smiles. “And I like that you like it, more than you know, but you’re not my cook and housekeeper, although there’s definitely an opening if you ever decide to revise your plans.” He smirks, making sure I know it’s the joke he means it to be. “And this is on me. No arguments.”
He lets go of my wrist and jumps up from the sofa, and without thinking I trail my fingers over the place where his have been.
“But—”
“I said no.”
He’s looking down at me and although he’s smiling there’s hard resolution in his direct gaze, telling me that any arguments from me will be brushed away. But it doesn’t stop me from trying.
“And I say yes. You let me stay here for not much more than a few quid, and you insist on buying virtually all the groceries—”
“I have a weekly delivery set up from Waitrose. I see no reason to change it.”
“That’s not the point.”
I stand up and placing my hands on my hips, I look him in the eye.
“So whatisyour point?”
I huff. I think my point is very clear, but it’s obviously not.
“Look, you’re only charging me chicken feed to be here—”
“I don’t want you to pay me a damn penny for anything, but you insist, you stubborn little bugger.”
My jaw drops open. Stubborn? I’ve never been that. Too pliable, too willing to agree and say yes, too eager to please to ever be called stubborn.
“I want to buy you dinner.” James’ voice drops, his tone almost caressing and I shiver as his words curl around me. “It might only be a takeaway, but it’s still dinner. So why not indulge me and let me do that for you, eh?”
Because every little thing you do for me weakens my resolve to reset my life, making it harder to leave…
“Thank you.” He’s giving me no choice.
“Then that’s settled. We are, as they say, on the same page.”
I’ve never felt more unsettled in my life, and the pages are turning too fast for me to read.
“Thai Me Up?”
“What?” I jump. My legs almost buckle, and my face heats…No. Yes. Maybe…
“Thai Me Up. It’s new, not too far from here, and Elliot says it’s very good.” He’s grinning at me, reading my mind, and my face throbs out another blast of heat. Just like my dick. Thank fuck I’m wearing loose trackie bottoms, and an oversized and long sweatshirt.
“Yes, that’d be great. Yeah I like Thai, it’s really nice.”
“It is. And so much better than beingtiedup. All that chaffing, it’s not good.”
