Madeline coughed the word bullshit then laughed.
“Madeline Elaine,” Mrs. Fletcher warned as she slid the muffin pan into the industrial oven, saving me from having to preheat for my brownies.
I set my coffee cup on the island and walked around to the cabinet where I pulled out a mixing bowl. “It’s okay,” I said, stacking butter, sugar, and flour into the bowl. “Madeline is still waiting for the prince to come dashing into the kitchen with a glass slipper in his hand.”
Madeline lifted one shoulder in a shrug, continuing her task of kneading flour into dough. “What? If it can’t be me, it might as well be Katie.”
I grabbed a sauté pan and clicked on a burner, then glanced at my braided leather sandals. “Well, I’m not missing a shoe so…”
Madeline watched as I dumped a chunk of butter into the pan to be melted. “What in the world are you baking at seven o’clock in the morning?” she asked.
“Brownies.” I grabbed some sugar and eggs. “Chocolate is a great substitute for all this sex I’m not having.” I shot her a wink then dumped the sugar into the bowl.
“I’m fairly certain it’s the opposite.” Sutton’s voice drifted into the room from the doorway, smooth and rich like the chocolate laying on the kitchen island.
“Cheese and rice! Where do you keep coming from?”
He watched as I grabbed the melted butter from the stove and poured it over the sugar. His powder blue button-up pulled taut on his biceps and dressy pants that probably cost more than I made in a month hinted at the outline of his muscular thighs. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and my mind immediately pictured the way the fabric might hug his butt. He was there, tearing through my bloodstream like heroin. There wasn’t enough chocolate in the world to get him out of my system.
His gaze lazily drifted to my face. “Secret passages. It is a castle… and chocolate is an aphrodisiac.” A slow grin curved his mouth, yet his voice showed no hint of emotion.
I was sure he was teasing but after seeing the sealed off library door, nothing would surprise me. “Isn’t there a polo match or fancy opera somewhere missing a prince?” I cracked an egg and snapped my composure back into place, praying to God that he was wrong about the chocolate.
Of all the places in this humungous castle, why did he always seem to be exactly where I was all of a sudden? I’d managed to hide from him for months and now he was all over me like a second skin.
“So, that’s what you think I do all day?”
“Other than stalking me? Yes.” I cracked a second egg, adding it to the bowl.
Madeline and Mrs. Fletcher watched our verbal sparring with intense curiosity, the homemade bread and blueberry muffins long forgotten. To someone on the outside it probably felt uncomfortable, but for us it was the norm.
Sutton stepped behind me, placing one of his legs between mine, not caring that we had an audience. He flexed the muscle of his thick thigh against me, sending a throbbing ache straight to my core. “I was hoping to get some coffee, but I think I like this better.”
Since when did the royals start getting their own coffee? Didn’t he have people for that?
I slid away from him, grabbing the bag of chocolate chips and another bowl. “I don’t remember offering it to you.”
He followed me to the other side of the kitchen where the microwave was. “You don’t? Because I remember it quite well.” His voice was calm and controlled, nothing like the turmoil that churned inside me.
I dumped the chips into the glass bowl then stuck it in the microwave before turning to face him. “I answered your questions. It’s your turn to answer mine,” I said, hoping the hum of the microwave hid our conversation from Madeline and Mrs. Fletcher. They’d gone back to continuing a hushed conversation and preparing breakfast, or at least pretending to.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
I doubted he was talking about melting the chocolate before baking it. I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. “Is there some reason it’s not?”
He closed the gap between us, trapping me between his hard body and the counter behind me. His eyes darkened when they fell to my lips. I watched the muscle in his jaw flex and wondered if he was remembering our kiss. I would never forget it. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“You wanted to know what I had against your father. I want to know what you have against mine.”
His eyes grew cold again. “I don’t know if I can answer that.”
Can’t? Or won’t?
I challenged him with a glare as disbelief flooded through me. “Well then maybe your father can.”
“Don’t you dare bother him with this.”
“Why? My questions aren’t justified because I don’t wear a crown?”
“That’s not fair.”
“No. What isn’t fair is that my father died a hero, and everyone keeps painting him as the villain. The man who let me stand on his toes while we waltzed around our living room then took me outside and showed me how to shoot a bow. The man who read me Jane Austen until I fell asleep and taught me how to change a flat tire. The man who gave his life to save his king. That’s the Matteo Bellizzi I knew.” I paused to catch my breath. “My dad was a loyal man, an honest man. So, if he saw your father as an enemy, there had to be a good reason, and I won’t stop until I find it.”
The high-pitched sound of the microwave timer cut through the air.
Sutton ignored it, lifting his hand to hold my chin between his fingers. “Why can’t you just leave it alone?”
“Because I can’t. It’s an invisible force, a light at the bottom of a dark abyss. I can’t keep ignoring it. I have to see where it takes me.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “What if that light is a fire and you’re falling straight into the flame?”
My stomach fluttered, and I wasn’t sure we were still talking about my father.
“Then I guess I’ll just get burned.”
Eighteen
Sutton’s cell phone rang, snatching us out of the moment and plopping us right back into the middle of reality. He answered, the voice on the other end of the line unmistakably female. She spoke, and he listened, saying nothing more than, “I’m on my way,” before hanging up.
Quiet chatter filled the back half of the kitchen as the rest of the staff showed up for work in small clusters. I didn’t know how much they had seen or heard, but the looks on their faces said it was enough for another afternoon full of gossip. They bowed and curtsied the moment they realized they now had Sutton’s attention. A wave of shame rushed over me. He gave orders and people obeyed them without question, yet I defied him every time I opened my mouth. What was wrong with me? Better yet, what was wrong with him for letting me do it?
He tucked his phone back into his pocket and straightened his posture, then swiveled around to face me again. “I need to go.” His strained expression made my stomach churn. Let him handle it. His pain isn’t your concern.
Sutton pulled his mask of usual detachment over his face, but his eyes flashed a fire that stole my breath. “We’re far from done here, little sheep.” Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me to face the world and pretend he hadn’t just practically liquified my bones then completely dismissed me all in the same breath.