Page 100 of Heir

“You spent the whole day cooking for me. The least I can do is heat it up.”

“All right,” I conceded.

He smiled. “Good girl. The quicker you learn that I’m in charge and all you need to do is what I tell you, the better it will be.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

He turned away from me, but not before I caught a hint of amusement in his eyes.

The feminist part of me rebelled at the idea of putting Kai in charge of all aspects of our relationship, but another,biggerpart of me reveled in his dominance.

I squirmed on the seat, not saying anything. He plopped the tray in the oven and set about warming up the food.

The kitchen was back to its original state of cleanliness.

There wasn’t a single thing out of place, and I wondered where his need for organization came from.

I also wondered if having me here was difficult for him.

But Kai was an adult.

If he didn’t want me here, he would say it, wouldn’t he?

He pushed a can of soda in front of me. I worked hard to keep the grimace off my face.

Not well enough, because he still caught on.

“What?” he asked.

“Ah, nothing.”

I shook my head and looked down at the island.

“Do you not like soda?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Maybe I’ll just have some water,” I said.

He didn’t say anything for a beat. Then he opened the soda and took a first sip. “We’ll share.”

I opened my mouth—to say what, I didn’t know—but he was already placing the can near my lips. Slowly, I took a small sip.

He smiled at me, and I felt like I had just won the lottery.

He set the can back down and checked on the food.

I moved to the fridge, pulled out the salad I had prepared earlier that day, and set it on the island.

After a few minutes, he approached with the tray of lasagna, wearing oven mitts.

My lips twitched at the sight. He mockingly glared at me. I would have thought he was mad if he weren’t smiling a little.

“Don’t look at me like that, pretty girl. I didn’t pick these damn frilly things out.”

Damn frilly thingswas right.

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