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Her mind then turned to the memory of her mother bringing up the fact again that she’d not being pleased that Zahara had gone to her half-sister Selena. But she had wanted to get to know her older sibling whom she had never been allowed to meet. Even now, her mother did not like talking about her older daughter, but from what Zahara had gathered from hearing her parents’ conversations when they thought no one was around, it really was not about Selena, but about her father. Her mother detested her ex-husband and he felt the same. They had both taken it out on the only child that resulted from the marriage.
Zahara was relieved and happy to see that her sister was doing well. She was married, loved, and adored by her husband, living on a beautiful ranch, and even started a new career as a reality-TV pastry chef along with her partner, Maddie. Zahara had been worried that her sister would not want to see her, but instead, Selena welcomed her with open arms and did not hold any grudges toward her.
Since leaving the ranch, the sisters continued building their relationship, and Selena expressed a wish to meet her other younger siblings, Ari and Trent, who were young teens.
Zahara felt lucky to have an older sister to talk to and hoped that their children would be close as well. She was determined to get her mother to let go of the past and work it out with Selena before it was too late.
She began to frown, wondering how she was going to make that happen, especially now that she had a child on the way and needed to focus her time and attention on the little one growing inside her.
“You can change anything that you do not like. This place belongs to both of us now. You have the credit card I gave you, and I will text you a list of interior designers,” Carter said distractedly as he stood beside her and gazed down at his phone.
He had been glued to his phone since they left her parents’ place. The only time his eyes hadn’t been locked on the screen was when he closed it for a second on the plane ride, but as soon as they landed and retrieved the luggage, he was on it like a fix.
“Thanks, I think I will repaint everything purple and pink and put a stripper pole in the den.”
He just nodded.
“Or set up my chemistry set you gave me for Christmas in the den. I have some ideas for a new experiment I—”
She finally had his attention. “I would prefer your first idea with the purple-pink montage and a stripper pole in my office,” he said, deadpan.
“Our office,” she corrected him and then moved towards the kitchen to see if he had the time to stock it. She was suddenly hungry and needed a sandwich.
She could feel him scowling behind her in righteous indignation because she was also going to use the study to work on her assignments and her experiments. The den was big enough for the two of them to work in, and she had decided that she was going to use one of the bedrooms as a nursery and the other one for a guest room, which only left the den for them both to work in. He had shown her the pictures of her new home when they were on the plane heading back to New York, so she didn’t have to go looking for the kitchen. She pushed the swinging door open and stopped abruptly, gasping in startled surprise.
A short, round man looked up from chopping vegetables and smiled at her, then at Carter when she felt him at her back again.
“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Brooks.”
“I’m not—” She didn’t finish because Carter put his arm around her waist, distracting her with his touch, making her feel suddenly hot.
“Good afternoon, Terry.”
He then glanced down at her. “Sorry I surprised you. I forgot to mention that I hired us a chef to prepare our main meals. Must keep mom and baby healthy and happy. I have been reading on healthy diets for pregnant mothers and have instructed Terry to prepare the meals according to the cookbook.”
Zahara smiled weakly. She could just imagine what he had told the chef to make for her and the little one. She was not always as healthy an eater as she should be. Being a student with classes, labs, and exams didn’t leave too much time to whip up something, so it was usually either something quick and easy or take-out.
She sniffed the air, smelling what she thought was a type of broth, and she guessed the colourful array of vegetables was what was going to go in the soup. She wrinkled her nose because she was not a fan of them, but then her stomach rumbled in the silence of the kitchen, and she flushed in embarrassment.
The chef didn’t even bat an eye at her loud exclamation of hunger. He just continued chopping the veggies and then put them in the pot with the boiling water.
“Have a seat at the table Mr. and Mrs. Brooks, I have some fresh fruit, jam, crackers, and cheese on a platter. I will just go and grab it while your midday meal is cooking.”
“I am not—”
“Terry, just call us Carter and Zahara for now. No need to be so formal,” Carter interrupted Zahara as he guided her to the table.
As he pulled out a chair for her, she hissed, “What are you playing at Carter? We are not even engaged yet.”
He looked down at her coldly, his gaze furious. “It’s just a formality at the moment, my dear. We will be engaged and married soon. I promise.”
“You, overconfident, pompous, unfe—”
He silenced her with a kiss. It was hard and punishing, and she refused to bend under its power. He cupped the back of her head and used the fingers of his other hand to put pressure on her chin, opening her up to his invasion. She fought the tide of the instant chemistry between them despite what he was doing, and she was slowly giving in, until it wasn’t a punishment anymore. His kiss changed and became coaxing, seeking a response from her, and just like that, she opened herself to him with a sigh. She was sinking fast into his kiss, forgetting everything around her. Then he slowly began to pull away and she gripped his shirt, making a protesting sound in her throat.
But she was going to be denied. He lifted his head away, separating them, and she saw emotion swirl in his silver gaze. She saw need, confusion, anger, and longing before he pulled down the shutters and was back to his usual distant self, but she had gotten a peek into his window, and what she saw gave her hope.
Her attention was suddenly caught by the chef standing off to the side, looking up at the ceiling and trying to whistle, but the only sound he managed to get out was a muffled wind sound. Instead of being embarrassed by the display of their passion in the kitchen, Zahara grinned. Not everyone can make a whistling sound, and his attempt sounded funny. Poor man.
