Page 19 of Branded in Love
“I want to,” I interrupt him. “It’s my way of saying thanks for all you’ve done for me.” My cheeks grow warm. “You and Sasha.” I pull back a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
“Actually…” Sasha says. He stands in the doorway. “I’m thinking I might go back to the Pantheon.”
Gavriil’s eyes brighten. “Really?” he whispers, pleased. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Thanks, Luciana.” Sasha gives me a brief smile. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”
“That’s all right,” I tell him. My heart is lighter than it was yesterday and nothing can spoil this feeling. “Have fun.” I would have teased him, but I’m not that well acquainted with the man.
Sasha purses his lips. He moves closer to Gavriil and speaks into his ear. I can’t listen to a thing, but Gavriil nods, and his semblance does not change. That’s a good sign.
I watch Sasha as he leaves. It’s just Gavriil and me now. “I guess I’ll go find the kitchen,” I mumble, picking at my nails.
Gavriil takes a step towards me, but stops in the middle of the hall. “I can help… if you need me.” The softness of his tone and the gentle stare of his dark eyes wash away from me any dregs of anxiety.
Slowly, I come to realize that I’m smiling at him. I’m sure I must be gawking at the man. Ugh... I shake my head. “You know what? Yes. I’d love some help.”
Gavriil’s taciturn demeanor thaws, giving way to a warmer expression. “I’ll show you the way,” he says.
15
LUCIANA
Istop at the kitchen’s threshold. It’s huge. I don’t even know where to begin.
Gavriil moves past me, tying his hair into a low coil. He then unbuttons his shirt’s sleeves and rolls them up below his elbows. “All right,” he says under his breath. Hands cinched to his waist, he sweeps the room with a glance, as though it’s the first time he’s set foot inside, which might be true. “If I were the chef, where would I keep the pasta?” Long and sturdy fingers smooth across the cabinets. He opens a few with no success.
I do the same. “This kitchen’s so big, it should come with a floor plan.” I choke a laugh.
He sniggers. “I’m sure there is one,” he teases. “Found it.”
I open a door and find the pantry. “Me too!” I cheer.
As I’m filling my arms with tomatoes and onions, I come across an even nicer discovery. “A-ha…” I say, reaching for the bottle. “Looks like Chef has a secret love affair with vodka.”
“Seriously?” Gavriil frowns. He sneaks up behind me so fast that I startle. I almost fall, but he catches my shoulders and steadies me. And then his brawny arm glides beside me. Gavriil grabs the bottle and reads the label. “Huh…” he says. “Beluga.” One eyebrow shoots skyward in astonishment. “Gold Line.”
I tilt my head and lean closer to see. “He’s got great taste.” I shrug. “Come on. Let’s take everything to the table.”
Gavriil nods. He slips the bottle inside the cabinet.
“No, no…” I all but sing as I head to the kitchen island. “Make sure to bring that too.”
He doesn’t put up much of a fight and does as I say.
I set the veggies on the table, then grab a knife and start dicing. “We’ll need some meat,” I mumble.
Gavriil opens the freezer and slips the bottle in there. “Secondo piatto?”he says. His Italian accent is charming. Bad, but still charming. He points at the refrigerator.
I stand in front of the white wood panel and pull the handle. At once, I am in awe. The bulk of food inside the fridge seems far too much for two grown men. Beef, veal, venison, lamb... this could well be a butcher’s shop. “Whoa…” I utter, baffled. “That’s a lot of meat.”
Gavriil stares at me, troubled.
“Listen, I only wish my fridge were half as full...” I crack a smile. “Grocery shopping is not my forte.” I grab what I need and head back to the table.
Gavriil adds the pasta to the boiling water, and I do my thing, working on the sauce. “So...” I tell him as coolly as I can. “What’s the story?”
He starts. “The story?” he asks, creasing his brow.
