Page 19 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
I hate how he knows he’d find me curled up in one of the old chairs. I wandered down to the library after I read the letter the first couple times. It was the only place I felt safe in this weird,vacant house when I went looking for a quiet place to process the gut punch.
This was supposed to be a special, private moment to come to terms with everything.
Not this. Nothim.
I massage my temples as he scowls at me from across the room.
“So what did yours say?” I wonder if he’ll blow me off.
“He outlined his terms.” He throws the letter down on the table, the edges of the paper fluttering slightly. “I will execute Leonidas Blackthorn’s wishes to the letter of the law, and then I’ll be done.”
“Cool.” I pop a thumbs-up, trying not to laugh.
The expression on his face could melt the paint off the walls.
“Cool,” he grunts back, barely sounding human.
We glare at each other slowly.
Yeah, this is going to be peachy.
I suck in a deep breath. “So… we should probably think about this situation. What it should look like. You”—I point at him—“and me. And the egg, I mean.”
He folds his arms tightly, causing an obscene bulge in his sweater.
“The basics aren’t that complicated. I’ll stand in as your security, keeping you and your cargo safe from any external threats.”
“My ‘cargo.’ You make it sound like I’ve inherited a nuclear warhead.” I roll my eyes and try not to laugh.
He also makes it sound like we’ll be dodging mafia speedboats. Danger or not, it can’t be that ridiculous.
“But what else is new?” I sigh softly. “We’ve been there before. Like when I was sixteen and youwelded the door to Leonidas’ wine cellar shut.”
No amusement in his deep, bearish brown eyes. They just narrow like a hunting hawk.
“You bet. It was my pleasure. It would’ve been my ass if I let a minor get blackout drunk on my watch.”
“It was none of your business.”
“Itwasmy business when Leonidas asked me to keep you out of trouble.”
Out of trouble.
I was sixteen, and maybe I shouldn’t have been stealing PopPop’s wine, but hell, it’s not the end of the world. Dad always let me have a glass or two at home.
Then again… Dad and his attitude toward drinking makes my stomach twist. In hindsight, it’s a small miracle I didn’t wind up with his problems.
“It wasn’t the drinking,” I snapped. “You invaded my privacy. You had no right. You wouldn’t even let me in when Gramps said I could hang out there and draw.”
“I had every right. That’s why I left you an empty bottle on the table to sketch.” He sounds almost infuriatingly calm, and the judgment in his voice fuels my irritation.
“Well, I’m not little Nile anymore, in case you hadn’t noticed.” I straighten up, swinging my legs to the floor. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t treat me like a kid.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you planning on stealing more wine? It won’t be here. The cellar was cleared out months ago.”
“Jesus, no! That’s not thepoint.”
“Then I can trust you’ve grown up, Nile Queen?”
