Chapter 14: Chapter thirteen
Chapter thirteen
"What a time to resume your work chef," Regan said, startling Elena.
"Shoot." She hissed and blew on her finger which she had cut in fright as she was chopping the onions. "How long have you been standing there?" she said with irritation clear in her voice.
He answered nothing to her question and smirked when she started pacing around to look for a plaster or something. He simply walked to the top left shelf and picked out the plaster she was looking for. "Your hands," He demanded.
"What?" she asked back with a furious glare.
"I said give me your hands." His tone became more commanding.
Her mind willed her to obey but her mouth would have none of it, "I can handle myself, it is just a cut and if you didn't scare me like that, this shit wouldn't have happened." She tried to gnaw the plaster from his hands.
Regan said nothing and roughly pulled her hand. She could act stubborn all she wanted but he was going to do what he wanted to do.
"I said –" She was cut off by Regan's next action. She sucked in her breath when he took the cut and placed it in between his thin lips and sucked on it with his eyes lowered. His shadow of his dark lashes caressed his cheek-bones. She was utterly flabbergasted and blinked a few times to understand her predicament. "What are you doing?" she asked in a dazed yet audible whisper.
"Now that you re 'calmer', let's treat your wound." He said and gently pulled her gently to the sink by the arm.
She hissed when the water came in contact with her torn skin. It felt nothing like the soothing feeling she had gotten when Regan had sucked on her finger. Regan didn't mind her and applied the antiseptic immediately to get an even louder hiss from her. Her eyes became as wide as pans as he leaned in close and blew on the finger. His eyelids lowered again in that same beautifully sensuous way. When he was done, he wrapped the finger in the plaster he had taken out of the cupboard. "There you go," he said and finally painfully letting her fingers go.
Elena was this stupefied by his action. Connor and her had been intimate and had done sensual thing before but why did this feel different? She pinched her cheek mentally to come back to reality. "Why did you do that? I-"
"I was expecting thank you. That's rude, El." He said and folded his arm on his midnight blue robe across his shirt, exposing a peek of his sculpted body. His left brow rose gracefully on his face as he gave her a pointed look.
"Thank you," She muttered and looked away. She suddenly felt shy but what she could not understand is why her mouth kept being defiant to him even though she had accepted his help.
The sudden diffidence amused him to no end. "Were you like this with Connor?" he asked after chuckling at her meekness.
She gave no answer to his question and picked at her fingers.
Regan saw her acting out her nervous habit and decided to shift the topic, "What are we cooking for dinner?" The word 'we' flowed out of his tongue so naturally.
Her head shot up again with so much intensity Regan thought her neck might've snapped. "We?" Her arched brows which framed her brown eyes furrowed.
"Watch your attitude, darling." He said, unfazed by whatever defiance she was putting up against him. His voice slipped through his throat patiently, "For someone who doesn't know how to handle a knife I think you are in dire need of a chaperone."
"You walked in on me. You startled me," she shot back.
Regan gave her a blank stare to let her know that was having no more of her bickering.
She cleared her throat seeing that he wasn't having any of it. "I'm sorry." She lashes went over her eyes to peek at him. His brows had relaxed. "I was cutting the onions. I was cooking pasta." She waited a while for him to say something but he didn't. She awkwardly went over to the chopping board to resume her cutting.
Big, strong arms clad in blue silk wrapped themselves around hers and she could feel a sturdy front behind her back. She let out a loud gasp, "What are you doing?" she rasped.
"Making sure that you don't cut your hand again." He said as he guided her to cut the onions, hand in hand. "You know El" his words mixed with his distinct minty breath danced on the nape of her neck, leaving the hairs on alert. "For an employee, you are obsessed with picking fights with me." He noticed the movement of her mouth but beat her to it before she could make any sound. "I think you should cut it out… darling." The whispered words rolled out of his tongue naturally.
Her neck prickled when she noticed that he had used the endearment on her for the second time that night.
The cooking went on in perfect, comfortable silence and Regan sat at the dinette while she dished it. "Why do you want to hide the fact that Evan is your father?" he asked as she laid out the dished food on the table.
Her hold on the fork she was holding tightened and she stiffened. "Why do you ask?"
"We go a long way. No need to fret perle. Claus is my friend"
Another endearment.
She sat on the chair after placing the food out on the table. "He is a man of influence and I don't exactly like the spotlight and all the attention."
Regan nodded and gave her a stare.
"What?" she asked with a forkful of pasta in mid-air."
NOTE: sorry for the late upload. network was really messed up. Thank you guys for bearing with me. I love you guys
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