Page 225 of Titus

I chuckled in response. “Can I help?”

He looked horrified. “You are a guest.”

“My mother was a chef for a family in Madrid, so I feel uniquely qualified to help make breakfast.”

He studied me, then smiled. “Then you may grate tomatoes.”

I laughed again. “Wow. Really giving me the important jobs.”

“You must earn promotions.”

“I see that,” I teased back.

Twenty minutes later, I was officially employed by Titus’s chef. We had fresh tomatoes, toast points, potatoes, coffee, and orange juice.

At some point, Mateo had apparently decided I was competent enough to be trusted with eggs.

“You know, Mateo, I feel like I’ve really moved up in the world.”

“You are progressing beautifully, Señora.”

“Mm hm. I’ll add it to my résumé.”

Mateo chuckled as he arranged fruit, then he glanced past me and stopped. I followed his gaze to see Titus standing in the kitchen doorway.

He was barefoot and wearing dark lounge pants that hung low on his hips. His hair was completely disheveled, and he stood there, looking like a half-asleep little boy who had woken up too early on Christmas morning to see what Santa had brought him.

Goddamn, even like this, he looked absolutely devastatingly handsome, standing there and watching Mateo and me for God knows how long?

“Good morning, Mr. Hawk,” he said.

“Good morning, Señor Alvarez,” he answered with a friendly nod.

His eyes moved over all the food we’d been preparing. Then he looked at the flour on my shirt, and his eyes met mine. “Good morning,” I said sweetly.

The corner of his mouth slowly lifted. “Good morning.”

He continued to stare as if he hadn’t quite processed what he was seeing, then his gaze shifted back to Mateo. “You let her cook?”

Mateo looked equally offended. “Sir, as you must be aware, it is very difficult to say no to such a powerful woman.” He gave me a quick wink as Titus laughed.

“I’m all too aware, Mateo,” he said, his eyes back on me. “You were supposed to wake me.”

I smiled. “You were passed out.”

He crossed the room, his eyes never leaving mine, until he stopped directly in front of me.

He looked over at the breakfast, then at me again. “You made me breakfast?”

I leaned up, kissed him on the chin, and smiled. “Mateo and I did, and since you like to sneak out of bed to make me breakfast, I thought I’d return the favor.”

He lifted a hand and gently brushed my cheek. “I look forward to showing my gratitude for this,” he finished with a wink.

“Will you be taking breakfast on the patio this morning?” Mateo asked.

“Si, gracias,” Titus said, then took my hand and led me toward the outdoor dining area.

Mateo brought breakfast out to the terrace overlooking the Pacific soon after we sat down. The morning air was cool, and the ocean below looked calm. The entire scene felt so peaceful that it seemed almost impossible that the past two weeks had really happened.