Page 75 of Daman
I had eaten several meals with him at the castle, and Armen had cooked for us here at the cottage, but I’d never once asked his preferences. I hadn’t cared enough to.
Until now.
“He loves buckwheat porridge.” Armen ducked inside the pantry and came out with a bag of buckwheat before grabbing honey, milk, and butter. “It’s really simple. I’ll teach you how to make it. Then you can surprise him one morning.”
The only other person I’d ever cooked for, other than myself, was Lycus. I forced those memories away as Armen walked me through the steps to prepare the meal. He was right. It was extremely simple. If it tasted good, I’d have to give Raiden the recipe. He was always searching for new dishes to make.
“It takes about fifteen minutes,” Armen said once it was cooking on the stove. “I like to add fresh fruit to it before serving. Strawberries are good. Blueberries too. Whatever you want. You can even mix and match. Do you know how to fry an egg?”
“Of course I do.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Color rose in Armen’s cheeks.
I reined in my attitude and took a deep breath. “Sorry. So we’re frying eggs to go with it?”
“Yes.” Armen smiled. He was so forgiving. Gentleness reflected in his hazel eyes. “I can also teach you how to makeponchiki, which are like donut holes but cheesy,zapekanka, a breakfast cake, andgrenki.”
“Grenkiis like french toast, right? But made with a baguette?”
“I’ve never eaten french toast, so I don’t know, sir. Er, I mean, Daman. Not sir.” Armen checked the pot on the stove, avoiding my gaze.
Was I really that intimidating?
I poured a cup of coffee and took a much-needed drink, swallowing down the hot brew. I drank mine black, but Warrin liked to add a dash of brown sugar to his. I’d seen him do it the previous morning. I filled another mug and stirred in a bit of brown sugar.
“I’m going to wake His Royal Highness,” I said, carrying the mug with me as I walked toward the stairs.
Armen chuckled from behind me.
Warrin was exactly as I’d left him, though he hugged a pillow now instead of me. Stupid pillow. I set the mug on the nightstand and crawled into bed with him, dipping my face to his and nuzzling his cheek.
Fuck, his skin smelled amazing in the morning.
“Time to wake up, Commander. The day awaits.”
He emitted a sleepy groan and wiggled his nose. I kissed the tip of it, my chest light. These feelings were uncharted territory for me.
I might not have fully jumped off that metaphorical cliff last night and claimed him as mine, but I was definitely sitting with both legs dangling off the edge.
Warrin’s lids cracked open. “Good morning.”
“Dobroye utro.”
His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “I like when you speak Russian to me.”
“I like it when you do too.” I smiled when he pushed the pillow away and grabbed me.In your face, pillow.“I made you coffee. It’s over there.”
“Over there?” Warrin glanced at the mug on the nightstand. His voice was raspy and his accent thick. “That would require me to let you go.” He kissed the base of my throat. “And I’m not letting you go for anything.”
I melted at his words, and for the first time since I woke, my sin stirred in my veins. But not to lash out. Envy purred, causing a rumble in my chest. Damn. I reallywaslike a cat.
“Not for anything?” I nipped at his jaw, loving the roughness of his light stubble. “Not even coffee with brown sugar?”
A smile danced in his eyes, though it didn’t quite touch his lips. “No.”
“What about buckwheat porridge with sliced strawberries on top? Armen’s here, and he said it’s your favorite.”
“Tempting.” Warrin tucked my hair behind my ear. “But no.”
