Once Andrés’ employee had delivered the food and left, she moved toward the tray, needing some kind of distraction. She reached for the pot of tea and went to pour some into the delicate china cup, but her movements were sloppy and rushed, and the amber fluid sloshed out of the cup and splashed against her wrist.
She gasped, nearly dropping the pot. Andrés was beside her in an instant, taking the pot from her and setting it back down.
“Cristo, Chloe, you must be more careful.” He caught her wrist and lifted it toward the light, peering down at her scalded flesh.
“As if I did it on purpose.” Tears blurred her vision again, caused this time by pain and frustration. She just wanted to scream and sob. She wanted to kick something and throw a tantrum like a toddler. She was ridiculously emotional and didn’t even know what to do with herself. And she only blamed half of it on pregnancy hormones.
“Let me get some ice, cariño,” Andrés voice gentled, as if he regretted his loss of temper. He scooped up some ice from the silver bowl that held soft cheese, wrapping the chunks of ice in a linen napkin and then placing it against her wrist. “Hopefully it will not blister,” he murmured. His gaze rose to meet hers, the expression in his eyes as gentle as his touch. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, but the unsteadiness of her voice belied her response.
Andrés pressed a hand against her back and ushered her to the chair once more. “Sit. I will bring you tea and breakfast.”
This time Chloe didn’t protest, mostly because she didn’t have the energy to. While Andrés might shut her out from anything personal, there was almost something sweet about the way he rushed to help her. Seemed determined to take care of her. Whether it was after she dumped scalding tea on herself, or while she was experiencing morning sickness.
A few minutes later, he set a cup of tea on the table next to her and then handed her a small plate of food. Despite her protests of not being able to eat with the morning sickness, her stomach growled anyway. Perhaps she would see if she could get down at least a few bites.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her mouth curving into a slight smile as she glanced at her plate.
She’d been gone from Spain for a couple of months, but time faded when she lifted the churro and took a bite. Her taste buds danced with recognition of the fried dough rolled in cinnamon and sugar. She chewed slowly, relaxing more. She made no attempt to stop her moan of pleasure.
“It is good, I take it?” Andrés drawled with amusement.
“Yes. Quite good.” She licked the sugar off her thumb and gave a small smile. “I’d forgotten how much I love these.”
In Seattle she would usually eat a yogurt or eggs nearly every morning for breakfast, determined to have some protein to start the day. But during the summer, while she’d worked at Andrés’s resort, she’d thrown herself into the country’s culture. Eating a small breakfast of a churro or pastry, perhaps toast with jam, but saving up for the large meal that was custom to eat at lunch.
Which, perhaps, would work quite nicely now that her stomach protested too much food in the morning. She took another bite of churro, surprised to find that she was holding down her food rather well.
Andrés had dished up his own small plate of food and was about to sit down when he paused in front of her. “You have a bit of sugar,” he murmured softly and reached out to trace his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “Right there.”
Chloe almost dropped her churro. Tingles of awareness rushed through her at his touch, especially with the memory of their lovemaking still fresh in her mind.
His gaze was light and teasing. He dipped his head and his mouth hovered just above hers. “And right here, I believe.” His lips brushed hers, then his tongue flicked out over her bottom lip, catching the tiny granules of sugar.
It was only when he lifted his head did she remember to breathe again. She dragged in an unsteady breath, her pulse racing once more and every nerve in her body on high alert from his brief kiss. “Thank you,” she said huskily.
“De nada.” His mouth curved into a pleased smile as he sat back down in his chair and lifted a churro to his lips.
She was entranced at his long fingers holding the sugary stick of dough, and then when his teeth flashed white as he bit into it.
Desire raced through her, sending warmth low in her belly. She closed her eyes, stifling a groan. Heavens, how was it possible she wanted him again so soon? All Andrés was doing was eating a churro, for God’s sake.
Andrés said suddenly, “Did you have a chance to visit Girona while you were here during the summer?”