Page 32 of Carnal Urges
“Moi?” I say innocently.
“Aye, you.”
“Whatever can you mean?”
He looks suspicious at my tone of wounded surprise. “I mean he came into this room working for me, and he went out of it working for you. He suddenly thinks he’s your goddamn butler!”
“I prefer the term ‘majordomo.’”
Declan narrows his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, lass.”
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, gangster. I just told him I’d like to cook for him is all. Can you blame the guy for wanting to have a home-cooked meal?”
When he stands there silently, glaring at me in outrage, I add, “I think he needs someone to look after him. I’m guessing his blood pressure isn’t what it should be, either.”
I can almost see Declan’s hair falling out, strand by strand.
I smile at him. “Any updates on the clothes I needed? I’d kill for a pair of lululemons right now.”
He mutters, “You probably shouldn’t mention the word ‘kill’ at the moment.”
God, it’s so satisfying getting under his skin. It might be my new favorite thing. My smile grows wider. “You know what I think?”
“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t.”
“I think you just wanted an excuse to come back in here and see me.”
“And I think calling you an idiot would be giving you far too much credit.”
I laugh. “Good one. How long did it take you to figure out how to use the internet to look that up, Grandpa?”
“Your parents are brother and sister, aren’t they?”
“Oh, look, we finally have something in common!”
His face turns red. His hands curl to fists at his sides. He stands there staring at me in unblinking, silent fury, breathing hard and gritting his teeth even harder.
I’ve finally done it. Declan is about to drop dead from rage.
I stand, wipe my hands on a napkin, and cross to him. Looking up into his angry face, I say, “I’d like to show you a trick that might help you cope when you’re in stressful situations.”
“And I’d like to show you the inside of a dungeon, but we can’t always get what we want.”
“Be quiet for a minute, gangster.”
“You first.”
That makes me roll my eyes. “I’m trying to be helpful here.”
“I didn’t need any help until I met you.”
My smile is sweet. “You mean ‘kidnapped’ me. As I was saying, a trick.”
I draw a slow breath for a count of four, hold it for a count of four, exhale for a count of four, then wait to draw another breath until I’ve counted to four.
He watches me with a look of disgust. “Congratulations. You know how to hold your breath. It will come in handy after I’ve put the cement shoes on your feet and thrown you into the harbor.”
“No, silly, I’m breathing in squares! My dad taught me how to do it.”
