Page 92 of Stolen Kiss

Jensen

We satacross from each other in the dining room with our own plates of sausage, bacon, and two sunny-side eggs.

After our heated kiss on the bed, Emilia had pulled away.

She let me help her put on her prosthetic leg before heading off to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

And now we were enjoying a quiet breakfast, with stolen glances and hidden smiles.

Emilia hummed happily to herself as she took a bite of bacon, and I thought now would be a good time as any to bring up my phone call from this morning.

I put my fork down, prompting her to look up at me.

“Did you know Evelyn has a driver who also worked as his bodyguard?”

Her eyes crinkled at the corner to showcase her confusion. “Yeah, what about it?”

“What do you think about that?”

“About Evelyn’s driver? I know she only uses the driver when she has her hands full with the kids.”

I shook my head. “No, about you having a driver of your own.”

She laughed, even though I had said it seriously. I didn’t see any humor in this.

When I didn’t join her, her laughter quickly died off and she cocked her head to the side, looking me over. “You’re serious.”

“I already made the call.”

“Made the call to who?” she asked slowly. I should have paid better attention to the tone of her voice. I didn’t.

“A man named Warren Pike.”

“And why would you do that without discussing it with me?”

I wasn’t sure if it was truly anger I heard in her voice. “I’m discussing it with you right now.”

The crumpled-up, used napkin missed my face by a hairline. I looked over at her in surprise. Emilia stood up, her chair scraping across the hardwood floor, and she grabbed her plate and headed to the kitchen.

“Emilia, wait up.”

She didn’t. I stood and followed her.

I found her by the sink, scrubbing the plate with a little more force than she needed to, so much so that I was surprised it didn’t break. I leaned back against the kitchen island, watching her.

Suddenly, she threw the plate in the sink and shut off the water. She didn’t turn around but instead looked out the window, her shoulders tense.

“This would make things easier for you,” I said.

She turned around then, a fire brewing in her eyes. “Easier? I get around just fine on my own. I don’t need some man I don’t know driving me around.”

“Is this what it is? Because you don’t know the man?”

She threw her arms up. “Are you serious? How could you be so fucking dense?”

I straightened and crossed my arms over my chest.

She mimicked my posture, but I wondered if she would have done it if she knew all it did was draw my eyes over to her chest.

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