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Disappointment filled her.
Maybe he actually wanted her to put her pajamas on and lounge around while he did all the work.
Lord . . . he wasn’t into her at all, was he?
She’d been living in this total dream world. She shook her head and took his hand, letting him help her stand. “I’ll do the clean-up and order dinner. What do you feel like?”
Again, he ran his thumb under her eyes. “You look exhausted, sweetheart. I want you to go upstairs, get ready for bed, then come back down here and rest. Understand?”
She was nodding before she could even think about what he’d said.
Damn it. When he used that tone of voice, she instantly caved. What was wrong with her?
“That’s a good girl. Off you go. Let me worry about everything else.”
14
Fifteen minutes later, she walked back downstairs. She’d quickly showered and washed the smell of smoke off. She hadn’t put on pajamas because there was no way she could wear her pajamas while he looked like a model for a high-end fashion magazine.
The man probably didn’t even own a pair of jeans and he wanted her to get into her highland cow pajamas? With her highland cow slippers?
Yeah. She was already at a disadvantage, considering that most of her clothes were from discount or thrift stores, while his clothes looked tailored to fit him.
There was no way she could be that relaxed with him.
So instead, she’d put on a pleated black skirt and a long-sleeved, emerald-green shirt.
But she didn’t bother to do anything with her hair. There didn’t seem to be much point in trying to look nice for Regent when he seemed to see her as a younger sister. Someone he had to look out for and protect . . . not someone he wanted to bend over the kitchen table and fuck until she no longer knew her own name.
Such a shame.
When she walked into the kitchen, everything looked normal. There was a faint scent of smoke, but the windows were open, so it would hopefully disappear soon. Where had the food and dishes gone?
“I had to throw several things out,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The doorbell rang, making her startle.
“That’s the food.”
She followed him out to the front door. “Oh, let me get some cash.”
“No need. One of my men went and got dinner.”
They had?
What men?
Jeez, Jilly, you know what sort of men he has.
The thought made her want to hide, but she forced herself to stand her ground, peeking out.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t the pale-haired man that stood on the stoop. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. He looked so . . . normal.
“Here you are, boss.” The guy held out two bags.
“Good. Thanks.”
The other man nodded, gave her a curious look, and then left.
