Page 116 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
“You acted pretty brave for being scared,” his voice wa
s rough.
My eyes collided with his gaze for a millisecond. I swallowed. This was a monumental cluster. How the hell would I explain to Matt that Jackson was here but then he left. I needed him to stay. “I would appreciate it if you would let me make you breakfast.”
He held himself completely still for a long moment. “Unnecessary.”
He was so unyielding. He reminded me of a mountain. Solid. Powerful. Unbending.
Pent up air wheezed out of my chest. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly conscious of the fact that I was wearing only a tank top and a pair of sleeping shorts. “I don’t want to tell Matt that I scared you off.”
His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. “You aren’t scaring me off.”
“Could have fooled me,” I shot back.
Jesus. What had come over me? I never talked to anyone like this. I was quiet and unassuming. Why I had chosen the most intimidating man to exert my cheekiness with was completely beyond me.
His eyes flickered over me. And then in an answer, he dropped the duffle bag on the floor with a heavy thud.
“Just let me get dressed,” I breathed before racing back up the stairs to my room. I caught sight of my reflection. My long copper red hair stuck up in every direction. I had a big pillow crease on the side of my face. My tank top was so thin the material was practically see through. Without makeup I looked like I was about 15 years old.
Crap. Nothing like making the worst first impression ever. I started to get dressed, while my mind tried to remember what Matt had told me about his friend. Something about a tree fort and another story about a school yard fight. Matt said that they had grown up to be different people. That was an understatement. Matt was a young liberal, urban lawyer. He dressed his lanky frame in expensive suits, he could talk about wine for hours and he had a constant, impatient vibe to him. The fierce man downstairs with a body like a solid fortress didn’t even seem human. His intensity made him unapproachable. He intimidated me. I could not imagine him and Matt having anything in common.
It baffled me that Matt had invited him to stay with us. For how long? Was Jackson just passing through town? It didn’t matter. If Matt wanted his friend to stay with us, I would make him feel as welcome as possible.
Chapter 3
From my vantage point on the stairs, I could see Jackson sitting at the island. His glance up to me was brief but I immediately felt self-conscious in my jeans and t-shirt. To compensate, I bustled into the kitchen, and asked in a bright voice, “What would you like for breakfast?”
“You don’t have to bother.” His voice was low.
“It’s no bother,” I pulled a pan out of a drawer. “Omelette?”
“Anything is fine.”
I was completely unnerved in his presence. My kitchen was huge, but when he watched me, I felt like there wasn’t room to breathe. I did my best to ignore him and started to cook. I wracked my brain to think of something to say but I came up blank. So I just concentrated on what I was doing.
“Do you want some coffee?”
Did my voice sound breathless? I took a few calming breaths.
“Sure.”
I looked over my shoulder. “I can do a cappuccino or a latte and Matt has some coffee syrups.”
He didn’t answer me so I walked over to the espresso machine and started reading off the labels. “He has Bourbon Caramel, Brown Sugar Cinnamon, Mojito Mint and Sweet Heat.”
A long pause hung between us, and finally he asked, “What’s Sweet Heat?”
“I’m not sure,” I picked up the bottle and read out loud, “fiery heat of ghost peppers with the sweetness of pure cane sugar.”
More silence. I glanced over my shoulder. He had no expression. “Just a coffee.”
“So an Americano?”
He gave a short nod.
I made him a coffee which he took black. Of course he did. Then I slid fruit and an omelette in front of him.
