Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager / The Oilman’s Baby Bargain: Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager. Michelle Celmer
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager / The Oilman’s Baby Bargain: Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager - Michelle Celmer страница 16
Название: Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager / The Oilman’s Baby Bargain: Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager
Автор: Michelle Celmer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408915950
isbn:
“I, uh, sure. I’ll make the soup and then let you rest. You really should be in bed.”
“I’ve been in bed. It’s boring. And lonely.”
Cara arched her brow. “I’ll find my way around. Point me toward the kitchen.”
He placed his hand on the delicate curve of her back, wondering what she’d been up to today, dressed in a classy, sleeveless black-lace blouse and white slacks. Had he interrupted her plans tonight? “C’mon. I’ll show you where it is.”
Cara darted glances back and forth from one room to the other. Kevin liked his penthouse, having decorated it himself, but he imagined Cara didn’t. Too much black and granite and hard angles for her liking—there was nothing here that spoke to a woman’s feminine side.
“It’s a nice place,” she said politely. “Big. How many rooms?”
“Seven.” He shrugged. “It’s home for now.”
When they reached the kitchen, Kevin set the bag on the polished-granite countertop. Cara took in the state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances and nodded. “Either you don’t cook much, or you have an expert cleaning staff.”
Kevin cracked a smile and it actually hurt his face. He hadn’t smiled in two days. “Both. I know the place looks sterile. I eat out a lot or bring in food. You know I’m not a cook.”
“Yeah, I remember. Boiling an egg is your specialty.” She smiled wide. “I thought that might have changed.”
He sat down on the counter stool across the island from Cara, content to watch her. “Some things have changed, but not my cooking abilities. I’m still pretty hopeless in the kitchen, but I make up for it in other ways.”
She blinked, looking a little flustered, and rubbed her hands down her slacks. “Okay, well, I’ll just get started.”
She removed the groceries from the bag and started laying things out, opening and closing kitchen drawers until she had all the utensils she needed. “Are you going to sit there and watch me?”
He nodded. “Unless you need help.”
God, he hoped she didn’t. He’d sat down because his rubber legs needed the break. He’d felt better after his shower but, as the hour wore on, weakness consumed him again.
“Nope, this is a one-woman job.” She smiled and went to work efficiently. “Just watch and learn.”
Cara scooped up the carrots and potatoes she’d cut into small chunks and tossed them into the big soup pot. The chicken pieces were already cooking and she’d used caution with the spices. Normally, she’d spice up the soup to give it a sharp bite, but she had to stick to more bland ingredients for Kevin’s sake.
He watched her intently, making small talk, asking her about the recipe, truly engaged in what she was doing. But each time Cara glanced at him, he appeared to slump lower on the stool. His voice droned in quiet tones and only his stubborn nature kept him in the kitchen instead of the bed, where he really needed to be.
“You’re exhausted, sweetheart,” she said softly. “The soup’s going to need an hour of simmering. Let me get you into bed. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”
Kevin pursed his lips and stared at her with feigned irritation. Hell would freeze over before Kevin would ever admit defeat, but she knew he was grateful for the reprieve. “Only because you called me sweetheart.”
“That was my strategy all along,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She moved to his side of the island. “Can you get to your bedroom okay?”
He lowered his dark blond lashes. “Sure, but it’d be more fun if you helped me.”
Cara couldn’t tell if he was joking. He really did appear weak and his color had faded since she’d first arrived. She feared he’d overdone it. “Okay, I’ll get you there.”
Kevin stood and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She followed his lead to the farthest room down the hallway. Double doors opened to a room that could only be described as a suite in itself. A blackmanteled fireplace stood across from the massive bed. An enormous flat-screen television covered one wall and a room-size balcony ventured out from two French doors, overlooking the Houston skyline.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.