Singe (Guardian Protection #1)

“Shit,” I said. “That must have cost a fortune.”

“Not really. I’m a good client. They come to my house once a month. I just asked if we could move up the date. Well, not the chef. He was new. But he taught us how to cook healthy recipes that Val actually liked.”

My eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. “The chef?”

“Yeah, and he was incredible,” she announced excitedly. Fucking cute. “We might have someone new for Thanksgiving.”

Uncrossing my legs, I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “I’m sorry. Just to get this straight: You hired a chef to come to your house and cook you and a kid dinner?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Rhion was loaded. But a personal chef? For an eleven-year-old?

I hadn’t been sure how much I was paying her for babysitting, and I was quickly starting to regret not having asked that upfront. No way I’d be able to cover a personal shopper, a stylist, a makeup artist, and a personal fucking chef.

“Babe, what exactly is your hourly babysitting rate?”

She blinked and then laughed. “You aren’t paying me, silly.”

“The fuck I’m not. Though, judging by these shopping bags, I might have to be put on a payment plan.”

“You aren’t paying me,” she stated adamantly. “Today was my treat. Yes, I might have gone a little overboard, but don’t take this the wrong way.” She peeked down the hall. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “Your ex-wife is a bitch.”

“This is not news to me.”

“Okay, well… When Val told me that her mom makes her eat nothing but dry salad and plain chicken so she can lose weight, it made me…sad.”

I clenched my teeth and reminded myself that I needed to try to call April again. She hadn’t answered earlier.

“I love to cook,” Rhion said, “but I’m horrible at the healthy stuff. So I hired a chef to show us some quick and easy recipes she could make on her own.” She swung a hand out to the dishes on the table. “Some of it was a hit. Some of it was not. But I did learn that, if you put water in a champagne flute and drop some fruit in, it’s a totally different experience.”

She smiled.

I did not.

Because, in that moment, another PSI of pressure escaped my chest. The relief was staggering. She’d hired a personal chef to help my girl eat healthier. She’d bought her clothes and had someone come do her hair and apply makeup to make her feel beautiful.

And that act only proved that Rhion Park was more stunning on the inside than she was on the outside.

April should have thought of that to help pull Val out of this funk she’d been in. Shit, I should have thought of it. Yet, in the five hours Rhion had spent with her, she’d realized that something was wrong and gone about doing something to fix it.

God, that alone was sexier than any memory I had of her.

“Come here,” I ordered roughly.

“What? Why?”

I didn’t wait for her to obey—mainly because I didn’t figure she would. Rhion had more than proven herself to be stubborn.

After standing up off the couch, I prowled toward her, muttering, “You hired a chef to teach my girl how to make healthy food.” I stopped in front of her, looming close.

She leaned away, peering up at me through her lashes and stammering, “Are…are you mad?”

Shaking my head, I slid a hand around her hips, resting it on the bare skin at the small of her back, and repeated, “You hired a chef to teach my girl how to make healthy food.”

“Well, not completely for that,” she defended. “I was hungry and didn’t feel like cooking. Win-win.”

I dipped so my lips were at her ear. “Tell me something, Butterfly. Last Friday.” A satisfied smirk hit my mouth when her body went tight in my arms. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“Who says I kissed you?” she chirped, arching her back to create some space between us.

But I had no intentions of allowing her to escape.

“We both know you did. I’m just trying to figure out why,” I rasped. “For some reason, you pushed up onto your toes and brushed that sexy, rambling mouth of yours across mine.” Using my hand at her back, I guided her closer and then nipped at her earlobe.

“Oh,” escaped her mouth on a moan, her hands sliding up my arms to my shoulders.

Trailing my lips down to her neck, I asked, “Ring any bells?”

She didn’t reply, so I pushed her further.

“You barely knew me. But you still kissed me like a woman on the brink of starvation. I think I deserve to know exactly what I did to earn that.” After snaking a hand up into the back of her hair, I used it to tip her head to the side, exposing her neck to me.

As I raked my teeth over the soft skin below her ear, her fingernails bit into my shoulders.

My tongue darted out to lave up her neck, and the odd sense of familiarity at her taste created a wicked brew of confusion and erotic exhilaration. As much as I suspected I’d always want to know what happened that Friday night, I wanted one thing more.

Straightening, I ghosted my lips across hers before gently twisting my hand in her hair, forcing her head back. “You hired a chef to teach my girl how to cook healthy food.”

“I’m…I’m—”

“That’s why I’m about to kiss you, Butterfly.”

Her eyes flashed wide, and then, seconds later, as my lips descended upon hers, they fluttered closed.

Her hungry moan vibrated against my lips as our mouths finally connected. The world stood still like it had the first time I saw her—and then again at the bar.

In that moment, nothing else existed.

Not failure.

Not regret.

Not guilt.

Not fear.

There was nothing but a beautiful woman with a breathtaking smile and an even bigger heart and me, the man who was suddenly desperate to keep her from flying away. Again.

Her mouth opened and I slanted my head, greedily swirling my tongue with hers, claiming everything her mouth had to offer.

She swayed into me, pressing deep into the curve of my body. Her full breasts became flush against me, which incited a flood of memories of how they felt in my hands—and against my mouth.

She pushed up onto her toes, lifting her already tall heels off the ground as if she couldn’t get close enough.

And, as I held her against my mouth, I knew I couldn’t.

Our tongues eagerly slid together. They weren’t dueling for control, but it was as though we both feared it was the only taste we’d ever get.

It was…confounding. It shouldn’t have felt that way. Not with her. She lived in my nightmares, yet somehow over the last week, she’d sparked something inside me that burned so fucking strong that the flames followed me into my dreams.

It was going to wreck me to break that kiss. My body ached to take more of her. To give her more of me. To make good on my offer and slide a hand under that little dress, not stopping until her tight heat pulsed around my fingers. But Val was in the bedroom, and if I started that with Rhion, I feared I wouldn’t quit until I was inside her.