Bunny and the Beast(Divine Creek Ranch 22)(11)

Trotting up the stairs, keeping pace with him easily, she said, “I probably have an answer.”

“Do you have a child?”

“What?” she asked, seeming surprised. “No. Why do you want to know that?”

“I overheard your phone conversation and was curious.”

She shrugged, and he was relieved she didn’t appear upset. She wasn’t his, technically, and he had no right to ask her personal questions. She said, “Curious is okay. I was talking to my brother and then to my grandmother.”

“Is that who Grinnie is?” he asked with a smile. Of course Bunny wouldn’t call her elder by a sedate or common name.

“Yes,” she said, nodding and smiling so brightly it lit up the room. “She’s my maternal grandmother. She lives with us.”

“And you have a brother? Is he younger?”

“More questions? Yes, Tristan’s fifteen. He’s disabled. He was in a car accident with my parents. They were unhurt, but he sustained a brain injury. He lives with us, and my grandmother takes care of him during the day, makes sure he gets to and from his activities, and helps with the homework his online tutor assigns him.”

“So you’re his guardian?”

“Yes.”

“And always will be?”

She looked directly into his eyes and arched an eyebrow. “Yes. Your point?”

“I apologize. It was rude of me to ask. I thought you were much younger, and unencumbered.” What a stupid thing to say, Hazelle. You’re just surprised she’s self-employed, the bread-winner for her household—and seems to know her own mind better than you know yours.

She rolled her eyes. “I can imagine what all you think about me.” Eye rolling was a spanking offense in his domain. Another boundary she breached with utter nonchalance.

He sighed heavily as he turned to her outside his office door. “But you’re unmarried, correct?” he asked, glancing down to verify her ring finger was bare.

Full pink lips curled up like the Cheshire Cat’s, and she chuckled. “Yeah. So?”

“All right then. I have another question.”

“With all these questions you keep asking, I may start charging you for each one.”

“Will you have supper with me?”





Chapter Four




Bunny fiddled with her napkin while Joseph poured her wine. Across the kitchen, the cook, Mrs. Hernandez, bustled around, her cheeks flushed and a big smile on her face. She kept glancing over at the two of them, seated at the table just off the kitchen. Just big enough for four seats, it looked out over the garden and, from the looks of it, also doubled as Mrs. Hernandez’s spot for prep-work, reading the paper, and eating meals with her co-workers.

“Is this all right with you?”

“What? The wine? Anything is fine. I’m not much of a drinker.”

“No, I mean sitting at the kitchen table. You’re fidgeting, and I want you to be comfortable. You had a long day.”

“So did you. Do you normally eat in here?”

“Sometimes. I like to be close to the center of the house, catch up on what’s going on.” He leaned a little closer as he slid her wine glass across the table to her. Her eyes were locked on his, and she startled when the glass slid under her fingertips and his hand rested on hers.

“You don’t prefer one of the dining rooms? I saw several in different sizes.”

He shrugged as he sat back in his chair. “When I’m entertaining clients or business contacts, or when I need quiet.”

“Oh,” she murmured and then sipped from her glass.

“Here you go, sir,” the cook said as she brought to steaming plates to the table and then returned with a basket full of bread and a saucer with butter on it. “I’ll be just next door if you need me.”

“It looks wonderful, Carmen. Thank you.”

Mrs. Hernandez had gone to great lengths from the look of it, preparing them an Italian pasta dish served in a creamy carbonara sauce and topped with thinly sliced grilled chicken breast. Bunny’s mouth watered, and her stomach chose that second to grumble loudly.

All three of them laughed, and Bunny reached up to pat Mrs. Hernandez’s arm. “This looks delicious. I may beg you for the recipe, ma’am.”

The cook gave Joseph a coy look and then, in a stage whisper, said, “Well, all you’ll have to do then is ask Mr. Hazelle. It’s one of his mother’s recipes.”

“Really?”

The cook nodded and then told Joseph to just put the dishes in the soapy water in the sink and she’d see to them in the morning.

Joseph nodded as she left and then turned his mesmerizing gaze on her, as if he was divining all her secrets.