She tastes the sauce and is surprised to find that it’s actually decent. She’s about to send another picture to Charles when she hears a familiar voice.
“What are you doing now?”
She slides the phone back into her pocket before he can see who she’s messaging. Waylen wraps his arms around her from behind and pulled her against his chest. She can smell the familiar scent of his cologne. He holds her naturally and loosely.
“Making pasta?” he asks against her hair.
Leilani gestures for the cook to remove the food from the stove and tries to get away from Waylen, but he holds her tighter.
“They said you’re making pasta. Is it for me?”
“No,” Leilani says flatly. She leans away from him, trying to escape his touch. Her posture refuses him, but he’s too close to her to care.
“I’ll ask the cooks to make something for you.”
Leilani turns to call the cook rolling pastry dough nearby, but Waylen stops her. He grabs her jaw with his hand.
“I want you to make it.”
“I’m a terrible cook,” she says, “I fear my food might make you sick.”
“Are you unwilling to do it?”
Leilani sneers, “Do I have any reason to be willing?”
Waylen squints and smiles devilishly. She’s doing it again. Usually, he’s annoyed by women’s games; their feigned indifference and sneers bore him. But when Leilani does it, it’s intriguing.
He turns Leilani to face him and backs her into the counter. His pelvis rubs against hers and she feels his heat.
“Do you feel it?” he asks.
“Feel what?” she asks with mock innocence.
Waylen caresses her cheek and pulls her head close to him. He nips her earlobe and whispers, “Below.”
He presses against her harder, but his eyes remain as deep and calm as the sea.
“Oh, I thought I felt the prick of a needle,” Leilani mocks.
“Wanna try it out here?”
“You shameless bastard!” she mutters, pushing him away, “Get off! I’ll make some pasta for you.”
Waylen allows her to push him away. He stands several feet behind her trying to calm the desire she’s aroused. Damn woman. She didn’t do a single thing, but he’s still turned on. He frowns wondering why he’s suddenly started desiring her after years of abstinence.
Footsteps echo in the dining room and Mrs. Florence Bamford’s imperious voice demands, “Since when do we eat common food like pasta for dinner?”
“It’s Mrs. Leilani Bamford. She wants pasta and insisted on cooking it by herself,” a servant stutters.
“That woman has too much time,” Florence Bamford complains, “Now we can’t get rid of that wretched smell.”
With a flourish, she pulls out a scented silk handkerchief and covers her nose. “I heard she was sick,” Florence Bamford continues, “Isn’t pasta too rich for a sick woman?”
“It is,” the servant agrees.
“Throw it out then!”
Waylen emerges from the kitchen, “Actually, it’s my dinner tonight.”
“Waylen, you have your meals prepared by some of the finest chefs in the world. Nutrition specialists consult on every single dish. This pasta is too rich.”
Bamford’s kitchen is known for using only the finest ingredients from around the world. Their meals include truffles from Italy, Russian caviar, and Akamatsu mushrooms. Simple spaghetti has never appeared on their dining table.
“I crave pasta today,” he sits and the table and gives his grandmother a challenging look, “Won’t you join me?”
Servants bring Waylen a plate of pasta and silver utensils. Mrs. Bamford walks to the table and sits across from Waylen.
“Prepare another pair of utensils for Mr. Francis Bamford today,” she orders, “He’ll be joining us for dinner tonight. And decant a nice Porto—he’s bringing a distinguished guest with him.”
The servant nods and retreats to the wine cellar.
“What guest?” Waylen asks.
“I don’t know. Mr. Bamford is about to return from his meeting with the president and he said to expect a guest.”
The servant places a bowl of pasta in front of Leonie.
“It smells so good,” she smiles, “If I wasn’t watching my weight I’d love to try some. But pasta is a little simple for such an important guest, don’t you think, Granny?”
Leilani smiles blandly at Leonie. Leonie and Mrs. Bamford make a terrific team. A few hours ago, one wanted to humiliate her and the others want to whip her, but now they sit across from her at the table as if nothing has happened. They’re perfect society ladies, Leilani thinks bitterly.
She notices Leonie subtly rolling her eyes at her, but she ignores her. After overhearing Leonie’s conversation with Waylen, Leilani understands that Leonie isn’t a threat to her. If it was anyone else, Leilani would take pity, but she’s done dealing with Leonie’s shit.
Leonie has tried time and again to frame her. This morning she tried to pin a drugged candle on Leilani. Earlier, she threw herself down some stairs and claimed Leilani has pushed her. Though Leilani’s memory is hazy, she distinctly remembers Leonie taking the fall.
Mr. Francis Bamford enters the room. He takes off his coat and hands it to a maid as he walks. He rubs his hands together and asks, “We’re having pasta tonight?”
“It’s Leilani,” Mrs. Bamford hurries to explain, “She was ill and insisted we have it.”
“Well, as she pleases then,” he says agreeably.
Leilani ignores her grandfather-in-law and stares at the man following him. Waylen turns to look at the distinguished guest and his expression becomes dangerous. With a deliberate but casual gesture, he puts his arm on the back of Leilani’s chair as if he’s claiming ownership.
“Come on, Charles. It’s only simple family food,” Francis Bamford apologizes, “I hope you don’t mind.”
Francis Bamford turns to regard his family, “My angina has been bothering me again. I asked Charles to dinner since he was free. You know, he’s the only doctor that ever makes me feel any better.”
Charles sneaks a look at Leilani. He had only just left the operating room when he received her photos. Seeing that she’d made pasta, he called Francis Bamford and got himself invited to dinner.
“This is probably the craziest and most shameless thing I’ve ever done for pasta,” he thinks, “But it’s only just the beginning of what I’d do for Leilani.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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