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Shirtless, and with his black pants hanging provocatively low on his hips, Vadim crouches down to inspect the contents of my freezer, looking for something to eat. Something that isn’t me.
“What am I supposed to make with this? With a teasing look, he points at my empty cupboards.
“It was Lily’s turn to get groceries this week.”
“Remind me again why she can’t hold down a job for more than a few days?”
I shoot him a glare, then hoist myself up onto the kitchen counter.
“Sorry, we don’t have room service here. No housekeeper either!”
He snickers, then decides to make do with what we have: two chicken thighs, an old onion, half a slightly dry lemon, a pinch of cumin, and a handful of rice. My private chef gets to work at the stove, peeling, slicing, squeezing, and seasoning as I look on admiringly. I observe every one of his movements. Every muscle as it flexes. The light from the range hood catches his skin, giving it a pearly sheen, and the focused look on his face makes me want to smother him with kisses.
“I rarely have the time or the opportunity to cook,” he says, as I watch, mesmerized.
“It smells so good.”
“Hold your horses. You haven’t even tasted it yet, Lancaster,” he says with a smile.
“So far, you haven’t disappointed me…”
“Alma, don’t distract me.”
A few minutes later, he hands me a beautifully plated dish.
“Voila! Quick and easy tagine-style chicken with lemon and grilled onions.”
“And the rice?” I ask, dipping the tip of my index finger into the sauce to taste it.
“Shit, I forgot the rice! That’s your fault…”
We laugh, even though it’s not especially funny. I’ve rarely seen him this relaxed. I grab the waistband of his trousers and pull him closer, so I can kiss him. His lips part, and my tongue slips inside, the taste of lemon still lingering in my mouth.
“Alma, you need to eat,” he says, reluctantly pulling away from my kiss.
“That can wait…”
“Eat.”
The chicken is delicious.
But not as delicious as the man who cooked it.
And the more he resists me, the more I burn for him.
33
Alma
A sideways glance, a lingering smile, a hand that casually brushes against mine.
In everyone else’s eyes, Vadim King is my boss, and I am his employee. In reality, he is my day and my night all at once. Even when I should hate him, my love for him keeps growing. And it scares me.
The secret nature of our relationship could have driven us apart, but without ever really saying it aloud, we’ve decided to turn it into a game rather than a burden. A tender deception, an exhilarating charade that has brought us closer together.
I still get upset about his fake relationship with May Sim, but Vadim knows how to find the right words to reassure me. Since he opened up about his parents’ tragic story, I feel like his walls are coming down. I’ve been tempted to tell him about my own wound a thousand times, but I can never manage to open up.
That painful episode of my life keeps resurfacing, without warning. Whenever I pass a glowing pregnant woman, receive a birth announcement that looks anything like the one I once imagined, or run into an old acquaintance who asks, “So, when are you going to have kids? You’ll see, being a mom is amazing!”
