Mastered(46)

Drake’s car pulled into the alleyway of his apartment building, adjacent to the side entrance, and he quickly got out and strode inside. As he rode the elevator up, he loosened the neck of his buttoned-up shirt and divested himself of his suit coat, throwing it over one arm.#p#分页标题#e#

He realized he was restless. He’d been that way all day since leaving Evangeline in his bed this morning. There was an edginess to him that defied explanation. An urge to cement his relationship with Evangeline and outline his expectations so there would be no question of his intentions.

Tonight he would have her. But first, they’d have the discussion that had been brewing in his mind all day, followed by a casual, relaxed dinner, which would give her time to digest all he would say to her. And then he would take her, possess her. He would show her to whom she belonged now.

Fierce satisfaction gripped him, and he realized he hadn’t anticipated the company of a woman so much in his life. For that matter, for the first time ever, he wasn’t already deciding how long his affair would last. He never began an affair without knowing when it would end, and yet he hadn’t even considered anything beyond securing Evangeline and making sure she didn’t go anywhere for a damn long time.

Hell, was he contemplating an actual relationship as opposed to a quick fuck or a fling? Maybe he was losing his goddamn mind. He was certain his men thought so. And maybe he was, because his world had tilted on its axis the moment he’d seen Evangeline walk into his club, and nothing had been the same since.

When the elevator opened, he stepped into his apartment and immediately swung his head toward the kitchen, frowning. A delicious aroma wafted through his nostrils. He checked his watch, certain he wasn’t mistaken on the time. He’d left his office so he would arrive sharply at six, as he’d informed Justice. Surely the delivery service wouldn’t have made such a mistake and delivered the food before the requested time.

He had the entire evening meticulously planned, and he didn’t like interruptions or unexpected twists.

He tossed his suit coat over the coat hanger by the elevator and walked into the kitchen only to pull up abruptly when he saw Evangeline at his stove manning four different skillets. He was a blunt man and not prone to putting much thought into how things were worded. Not when his words were sufficient to get results.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

Evangeline jumped, nearly dropping the spatula she held. She turned her head in his direction, her eyes huge in her face as she gazed anxiously at him. Clear confusion was reflected in her vivid blue eyes, and then she cast him a puzzled look that suggested he was in error for asking what she was doing.

“Justice told me you would be here at six, for me not to dress, and that we were having dinner in. I assumed that meant you wanted me to cook. He did say we were eating in,” she repeated, as though reassuring herself she hadn’t misunderstood what Justice had told her.

There was a tremble to her voice and Drake sighed, realizing how it could well have been misconstrued on her part. The edge of fear and uncertainty in her eyes made his response instinctively gentle. He didn’t want to start the evening out on a bad note. Not when so much was riding on it.

“I have no intention of turning you into a domestic slave, nor do I expect you to cook for me. I have a delivery service that brings in the finest meals when I want to eat in. They come in, set the table, and quietly make an exit. I had a delivery scheduled for seven. I had planned for us to talk before we ate.”

“Oh,” Evangeline murmured.

She looked down at the meal she was preparing, color rising in her cheeks, embarrassment dulling her usually brilliant blue eyes. It was like a physical blow to his stomach and made him feel like the worst sort of ass for being so blunt and making his statement sound like a reprimand. As though she had done something wrong. When actually, the fact that she had prepared a home-cooked meal for him touched him absurdly. His own mother, what he could remember of the bitch, certainly hadn’t ever cooked him anything.#p#分页标题#e#

“I’m sorry,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I can throw it out. I misunderstood. I’m sorry,” she said again.

He felt like he’d just kicked a puppy, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. He in no way wanted to hurt her feelings when she’d obviously gone to great effort to prepare what appeared to be a sumptuous dinner.

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “It smells delicious, and good food should never go to waste. I’ll just call the delivery service and cancel our order. How long before dinner will be ready?”