Page 30 of Glorious Sinner

I licked mine where his thumb had been, and he growled softly.

“Stay up here if you want. Sleep some more. I’ll be in my office downstairs if you need me.”

I nodded, and was still nodding as he strode out of the room.

Could I really do this? Could I let him in?

I wasn’t sure I knew how to, how to let anyone close anymore. How to trust someone with every part of me.

But I realized I wanted to try. So bad it hurt.

“Add the flour then fold it in,” the woman said, her kitchen perfectly clean and a bright smile on her face.

I hit pause, leaving a floury fingerprint on the screen of my phone, and dumped a cup of flour in the mixing bowl. Arthur had hovered around me, looking stressed as I’d unloaded ingredients onto the counter, but had finally given up and left me to it after egg number two met its untimely demise on the floor by the fridge.

What can I say? I don’t do a lot of baking, or cooking of any kind for that matter—not anymore. But I’d woken up this morning after a really great sleep and felt energized. I was sure there was no correlation between my current mood and the fact I’d woken up in Tomas’s bed, right?

Riiiiiight.

I wanted to thank Tomas for being there for me, and since the man had everything, this was what I’d come up with. I knew he liked my chocolate muffins because I used to make them for Dad years ago when Tomas still worked for him. Tomas had loved them, and he’d always come back for seconds.

It was the only thing I knew how to make well. Unfortunately, I’d needed the help of a video this morning, since the recipe was back at my apartment. I looked around the kitchen. Maybe I’d gone a little overboard?

There were a dozen cooling on a rack, another batch in the oven, and a third in the bowl in front of me. God, he’d think I’d lost it. I winced and glanced at the clock. 3:00 p.m.

I’d been in here most of the day. Grabbing a tub of frosting, I got to work icing one. I’d just drop one off to Tomas, then finish up and clean the mess I’d made. My belly flipped at the thought of seeing him again, which was ridiculous. It had only been a few hours. Five and a half, to be precise. Yep, I’d been counting.

What are you doing, Stephanie?

I ignored the voice in my head, put the now-frosted muffin on a plate, and headed to Tomas’s office. The door was open and there were murmured voices coming from inside. Probably Arthur telling on me for messing up his kitchen. I poked my head around the door.

Tomas stood in front of his desk, body rigid, expression dark, hard. The man standing across from him said something and Tomas’s expression caused goose bumps to skitter down my spine. This wasn’t the Tomas who watched movies with me, who carried me to his bed, who’d gently kissed me at the foot of the stairs. This was the ruthless crime boss. A man who demanded respect and leveled anyone that tried to get in his way.

I’d seen him do business in the club. I’d seen people avoid him while he sat there waiting for me, afraid to even look his way. I knew what and who he was. Still, it was startling to see it here now.

“You have a fucking nerve coming to my home like this,” he said voice low, deadly.

The other man took a step back. “I thought…I just thought…”

“Next time use the fucking phone.” His eyes hadn’t wavered from the other man. “Get the fuck out.”

The man spun around, striding toward me. He paused when he saw me, then quickly averted his eyes. I watched him rush out the door, shutting it behind him.

I turned back to Tomas. He was standing in the same place, but now his dark eyes were on me. I couldn’t read them, but my belly squirmed.

I held the plate up lamely. “I, ah…I made you some muffins.”

His gaze slid from mine to the muffin and back. His lids lowered for a couple of seconds and his chest expanded on a sharp breath. Then those eyes were back on me. “Come here,” he said.

“I’m sorry if I…I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting or whatever…”

“Come here, Stephanie.”

It was a command, but there was no anger in his voice. The low, rough edge to it had zaps of electricity shooting through my belly. I could see him trying to pull back, to shake off whatever I’d just seen, but he was still there. Oh, he was definitely still there, and he was beckoning me to him.

My feet were moving in his direction before my mind registered what I was doing, until I was standing in front of him. I held the single muffin up in front of us.

“You made this for me?” he asked, not actually looking down at it, his gaze still on me. He was searching my eyes, my face. He wanted to know if I’d seen the interaction, if it frightened me. If he frightened me. He hadn’t. I could never be afraid of Tomas. He would never hurt me or mistreat me. There was no doubt in my mind about that. That man, the one I’d just seen, was who came for me when I needed him most, who was protecting me now. How could I think less of him for that?