Page 51 of A Devious Arrangement
Actually, Bash never showed me where I’d be staying last night.
My room has to be somewhere up here, and I hesitantly step into the hallway when music drifts up the stairs.
My feet are already moving before I can think better of it, and I spot Bash in the kitchen.
He’s shirtless—because of course he is—his broad back on display. The thick, corded muscles flex as he expertly flips something over the stove.
He’s whistling along with a song I don’t recognize, and some of the tension that’s been building inside me releases.
I’m about to sneak away when my stomach growls.
Mortified, I slap my hand over my abdomen, praying he didn’t hear it. But of course, he did.
He’s wearing an appreciative smirk when he spots me dressed only in his shirt.
“Morning, Princess. Glad to see you’re finally awake. Or maybe I should say good afternoon?”
I glance at the bright afternoon sun through the window as I walk the rest of the way down the steps. “What time is it?”
“A little after one. You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you. Looks like you needed it.” He sounds sweet, but his wink ruins it.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, instead allowing the smell of breakfast to call me closer. I pull out one of the four stools at the island and take a seat.
Bash comes around the counter, holding a large plate in his hand, and sets it in front of me. It’s overflowing with pancakes with golden syrup on top. I’m practically salivating over breakfast.
He catches me by surprise, leaning in and kissing the marks he made along my neck.
I hold up my fork, a piece of delicious pancake stacked on top. “We’re going to talk about that later.”
He just laughs and kisses my temple. “Do you like pancakes? I’m sorry it’s the only thing I know how to make.”
There’s a hint of worry in his tone, like he really is nervous I won’t like it. I look up at him. His hair’s messy from sleep, and there’s a pink blush across his cheeks.
How is he so freaking adorable right now?
I pop my fork into my mouth to stop myself from saying anything stupid, but I moan the second the maple syrup touches my tongue.
His lashes are lowered over his eyes as he stares at my lips. I can practically feel the heat coming off him. He swallows hard before standing.
He tosses a dish towel over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go for a few hours.”
I ignore the unruly twinge in my chest and make myself sound as bored as possible. “Have fun.”
Bash wraps his arms around my waist from behind and murmurs into my neck, “That’s no fair. You don’t sound like you’re going to miss me at all.”
I stiffen in his hold and turn so I can look at him. “Should I miss you?”
“Absolutely.” He captures my mouth, and just like last night, I’m helpless to stop him. He pulls back and licks his lips. “Hmm. Syrup.”
I refuse to respond to that, instead snapping out, “It sounds like you’re the one who’s going to miss me.”
“Who says I’m not?”
Chapter 26
Anastasia
Bash’s houseis four stories, five bathrooms, three half baths, and four guest bedrooms. There’s a gaming slash movie theater room, a pool in the basement, and even a quarter-sized basketball court. If it wasn’t for all the toys and babyproofing, it would be the definition of man cave. Snooping through someone’s house while they are away…well, it’s not my finest moment, but my brain’s spinning a mile a minute, a demanding need for me to dosomething.I need to figure out how to get that stupid tiara and get my brother back. It doesn’t matter how many times I remind myself that Iamdoing something.
