Page 76 of Dark OZ

“You think my eyes are pretty?”

Ignoring my sass, Nick pulled two clear mugs from a cabinet. Then, clicked off the burner and moved the pot to the countertop. “How do you feel?”

The delicate metallic sound of the lid hitting granite rang out. Curling steam filled the air, making me think of magic potions. Nick stirred the contents with a long silver spoon, like some dark cafe wizard. It was mesmerizing to watch.

“Thea? Are you still hallucinating, or is watching me make espresso really that hypnotic?” Damn me. His accent was so sexy. I would listen to this man read a grocery list, just so long as he didn’t stop talking. Even my name sounded sexier when he said it. Not Thea, but Tay-ah.

“Thea,” he repeated, harsher this time. Hearing my name shouldn’t make my nipples hard, but here we were. “I asked you a question.”

I blinked rapidly, clearing the spell he was casting over me. What had he asked? How I felt? “Better, much better. It feels good to be walking around.”

Dark liquid poured smoothly into the cups, making the air instantly aromatic with the rich scent of coffee grounds.

“Did they tell you what happened?”

“I got the highlights.”

Nick slid the glass over to me. “I drink my espresso black.”

“Shocker.”

“If you want to add something to it, Danny keeps the sugar and flavored creamers next to the barbaric thing he calls a coffee maker.”

“Black is fine. Wait, Danny uses flavored creamer? I just assumed he’d drink coffee as bitter as he is.” I moved to the corner where a stainless steel bowl was filled with individual creamer cups, everything from Hottie Biscotti to Marshmallow-Snickerdoodle. I snorted with amusement. “How positively squishy of him.”

“Ozmandrians have no idea what a good cup of coffee is supposed to look like, much less taste like.” His accent thickened with annoyance. It would be sexy, if it wasn’t so damn amusing to see him riled up over something as simple as coffee. “It took me five long, nearly unbearable years before I managed to get these.” He tapped the coffee pot with the spoon. “The first time we did a job beyond the borders, I bought an entire case of moka pots and had one put in each of our safe houses. I refuse to ever suffer Danny’s swill again. I’d rather drink grey water.”

I took a sip. Black fireworks exploded across my taste buds. “What demon did you sell your soul to in order to make coffee this damn good?” I breathed, greedily sipping down more.

Nick laughed. A rough and hearty exhalation shook his chest and made his white teeth shine beneath a wide smile. The sound lingered in the quiet room like a phantom. I didn’t dare speak for fear of dispelling the happiness from his features.

He shifted his stance, studying whatever my reaction must have been over a long pull of dark coffee. “The devil took much more than my soul,fiore mio—” He lifted his glass to me. “—and I didn’t get anything as nice asthisin return.”

I cleared my throat. The now full weight of his attention made my skin prickle. Teasing Nick wasn’t like teasing Danny. When I pushed Danny’s buttons, it made me feel alive. When the fires of his anger rose, mine decided to bring along the gasoline. With Nick, everything he did was with the promise of menace. Teasing him felt like I was turning that hot poker on myself, and I wasn’t entirely certain that I’d like the bite of pain I felt in return.

Chapter 35

Mystomachflipped,rumblingloudly as I started opening cabinets in search of something to eat. The fridge was filled with vegetables, a large drawer held what looked like half a dozen different cheeses. I settled on taking out a massive hunk of a hard white cheese, and a bundle of celery. They didn’t go together, but it was as close to ready to eat food as I could find. I sat the entire pile on the counter, along with a plate and a knife.

Nick moved closer, the weight of his gravity loomed in my periphery like a giant black hole. I ignored him, unwrapping the cheese. I was about to knock off a hunk from the end, when the deep tenor of his voice vibrated behind me, his warmth seeping into my back.

“I was going to wait and see what you managed to do, but I can’t in good conscience let you butcher a perfect block of pecorino.”

Thick bands of tattooed muscle wrapped around my body. His hands slipped over mine, taking control of the knife and adjusting my grip. Damn, he smelled good, like something spicy with a slightly metallic edge. Whatever it was, it made all of my lady bits sit up and say, “Yes, sir.”

“You’ll take your thumb off cutting like that.” He pushed down on the handle, and a quarter inch band of cheese fell on to the plate. He picked it up, slipping it between my lips. I tasted the salt of his fingertips before my closed around the cheese. I didn’t have time to be shocked, before my already overwhelmed senses locked onto the flavor of the pecorino. Damn, it was good. Really good. I groaned as the lump dissolved in my mouth.

Nick scooped up the food that I had laid down on the counter, and tossed them back into the fridge.

“Hey! I was going to eat that.”

“And now you are not.” He motioned to a lower cabinet. “Get the large silver mixing bowl from the lower cabinet. If you’re going to eat, then it should be something more balanced than some artisanal cheese and celery.”

“I don’t really know how to cook anything. Em didn’t exactly trust menear the knives,” I grumbled and sat the bowl between us on the counter.

“Which is why I will teach you how to make something worth eating.” He pulled a large bag of flour from an upper cabinet, followed by a blue container of salt, and a tall glass bottle. The dark green bottle had a label written in a foreign language. Whatever was in that bottle wasn’t from Oz.

“Get me three eggs.”

---