Page 24 of The Chef and the Countess

She did and glared at him questioningly. “Well?”

Liam sat in the chair opposite. “I’ve enjoyed our time together. But I was upfront with you at the beginning. I wanted nothing serious.”

Melanie nodded. “Neither do I, love. We agreed on that.”

“It’s time to bring this to a close.”

Melanie sat back in the chair and crossed her legs. Her mouth turned downward. “You met someone?”

“Maybe. She’s caught my attention. If I’m involved with someone else, I can’t consider anything with her.” Liam couldn’t believe he had spoken those words aloud because it was against his core to become involved with an employee, let alone the widow of an earl. But the most surprising aspect? Admitting aloud that Celia attracted him.

“You’re throwing me over for who? Some little mousy waitress in your pub?” Her voice raised.

Liam had hoped the conclusion of their involvement would be cordial and respectful. Wishful thinking.

“It doesn’t matter who it is. This is the first woman I’ve met in years who’s interested me. I want to get to know her better.”

“Oh, really?” Melanie snapped.

“Why are you acting like this? What do you care?” Liam was growing annoyed at Melanie’s petulance.

“I wanted to be the one to end it,” she said, pouting.

“Then go ahead. End it.”

Melanie picked up a cushion and threw it at him, clipping him in the head. “Then go. I’m glad we’re over. I can’t wait to get away from you and your stench of kitchen grease, onions, and chicken fat. Because of that, I have to strip the sheets from the bed after every time you come here. You disgust me.”

Liam couldn’t muster up enough interest to reply to the vitriolic insult. But he was insulted. He had been looked down on his entire life—his poor upbringing with his perpetually sick mother, his living on the streets for two years until Walter took him in. He stood, giving Melanie a pitying look. She was on the verge of tears, and she looked—hurt. Liam had never wanted to hurt her, but it appeared as if he had. She cared more than she had let on, and he should have sensed it. Liam stood. “Goodbye, Melanie. Be well.”

He exited the flat and gently closed the door. He stood outside in the hallway, feeling terrible. Then he heard it—loud sniffling. His heart squeezed in compassion. Yes, he had a heart. Sometimes, he wondered if it functioned, as he often kept it closed off and hidden except for his restaurant “family.” Even then, he rarely showed any weighty emotions. This affair had not been supposed to end like this.

Liam reentered the flat. Melanie still sat in the chair, wiping a few tears from her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Mel. I had no idea,” he said softly.

Melanie laughed brokenly. “That I cared for you? Neither did I until you tossed me aside. Don’t worry. It’s not love, merely an infatuation which will dissipate with time.” She exhaled shakily. “I was hurt, and I lashed out. I didn’t mean what I said.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Liam’s mouth. “There’s probably truth in the account. Just as an engine machinist probably smells of oil, a cook would emanate food odors.” He placed the key on the table. “I forgot to leave this.”

“Does she work at the restaurant? This lady that has captured your regard?”

“Temporarily. I’ve got a rule about fraternizing with the employees. I’ll keep my feelings to myself for the time being—not that I even know what feelings are involved.”

Melanie gave him a sad smile. “Oh, Liam. When it comes to the heart, rules are made to be broken. The best of luck keeping those emotions to yourself. It’s not always easy. Eventually, a woman will know. She’ll sense it.”

Liam came to stand by her chair, took her hand, and kissed it. “Thank you for making my life less lonely.”

“We had a mutual need,” she whispered. “So, thank you.”

Liam released her hand, bowed slightly, and then quit the room without looking back. He slowly descended the stairs and stepped onto the walkway, pulling his peaked cap lower on his forehead and tightening his wool scarf around his neck. It was blasted cold out, but he would go for a walk, regardless. Liam needed to think.

What was at the forefront of his mind?

Celia, the dowager countess. He cared about what might happen to her and wanted to protect her from further harm. Her cheerful disposition despite her downfall, her eagerness to learn new things and become independent—God, he admired that. When she had landed in his lap… Liam nearly moaned aloud, remembering his swift and aching response. There was no way she could have missed his erection, considering the way she wriggled about. How would he resist the temptation, especially after seeing her naked in the tub? All luscious curves… He would never get that breathtaking scene from his mind. It would haunt his fevered dreams for many nights to come.

What Liam wanted most of all was to pull her close and kiss her senseless—until he ceased to breathe. And that temptation might be the hardest to ignore.